The Penn's Grove record., 1888-12-15

quite feelin' about you, an said il the
paintin, didn't turn out . good job.
there was the place az b~ookkeeper In
his button factory as you could have ct
any time, and SO farewell. Your lovin'
aunt, RoxANNA MATHER-
Roy had crushed this letter 10 his
hand, and walt$d on with the feeling
that he had nothing more to hope or
expect In this world. He had. in fact.
been working against hope for the last
month, with o cold, d~espaIring feeling
settling down upon his heart. He was
one OF the competitors for . prize. but
each day he passed his brush over the
days work with an angry vehemence,
o~bliterating bis failures.
I am . gigantic mistake he said TO
himself gloomily. There's nothing left
for me but to go back to the button
factory. There's nothing in me. l
can't get up the ghost Of . conception
for a picture. Ny figures look as II cut
out OF pasteboard, my skies : Ike
Aunt Roxanna's bluing, my rocks are
pasty. Heighol l could almost wish
I'D lived In those wonderful days OF
magic and wizards. II any obllging
gentleman In black should appear now
and say, Roy Mather, you shall have
your hearts desire for the paltry con.
sideration Of Halloo, who are you
tumbling over?"
A fierce ssacre' came from the adj
vancing foe, but the next moment 1t
was changed to q greeting. A sallow
faced, dark eyed gentleman In black
stopped suddenly, and then said:
1T is Monsieur Mather, eh? Ahl
you come, I suppose, from your friend
-ahi the poor young man-cut down
like q DOVER
what do You mean2' cried Roy. rec
ogniKlng . fellow student.
\ is it that you ask mef Why, /
thought It was with you, Damon, and
what you call the otherPs
Never mlndi What is tbs matter
with Lang9'
.Ohi he Is dying; that is allp
Roy turned away and walked rapidly.
He had been 60 occupied with his
work. having a studio Of his own now,
that he had hardly thought Of Lang for
three weeks, and his conscience smote
him.
But certainly Mather could not be 80
desperate. or his friend would have let
him know.
He made his way up the dim stair
way, meeting no one When be pushed
open the door Of Lang's room there
was no light or any sound save q half
smOthered moan from the bed.
He found q match after awhile and
lit q candle. Then he called his fraen1
by name but there was no knswer.
He took the light in his hand. A
horrible fear was c.utodtng ut his throat
as he walked toward the bel; for the
moaning had ceased. And at she hr
glance It looked as II the shadow that
lies In wait for all of US had indeed
c-ossed that threshold, and laid q dim
hand upon one aching brow.
He Is gone. poor fellowp thought
Roy, and no one beside him to hear
his last words or to hold his hand In
the supreme moment. Perhaps, though,
there may be some faint pulse OF life.
II / had some stimuiants-
He bathed the cold face with water
FIRST, and then looked about for some
thing stronger.
In doing this he saw an easel. and
upon / t stretched q finished picture,
that even in that faint and dim light
glowed with life and power. There
was q tall headland, pine crowned,
draped with dainty ferns. Above 1t
the misty air seems like amber, the sky
Is OF meiSIng gold. Below, the sea,
with its emerald light and foam rested
waves and fame opals OF Liz And
where the reeds seem to thrill with the
Wild stands ONT ike q lily queen,
A miracle of mow and cold.
It is miranda on her island. She
looks at Roy with fearless, but innocent
tender eyes.
She livesi It would hardly seem a
miracle II she stepped forth and touched
his hand. ALL this is genius. He
recognizes 1t with q gr0an.
And the man whose cunning hand
has done the work is lying there dead
It is nothing to HIM now, that he would
have won the prize. What are earthly
laurels to him. who sees the amaranth's
deathless BIZ ,mp What are all the
triumphs or the toll to one on whom 3
new day dawns In the land where Tiers |
shall be no night,
Il must take care OF this PICTURE
said Roy. He would have given It to
me, and it will not do to let 1t fall Into
the hands Of"
He had rolled 1t up with this thought,
and hearing the door open turned to
face q virago. |
so. some one at last. And how Is 1t
that you make your way into my
house, and ask no leave9 The doctor
1t is who has forbiddenf'
The poor f9 q friend Of mine.
and IL Won will esp-. little wine. I think |
he ia In a faint.
sWineY AM hut dear. Does he not
owe me atty francs? And be was to
nav with his crand prize. and here he
has esoaped-died out of pure malice
to cheat me. But / Will have all-all
he has had the grace to leave, Typhus.
too: that AZ mems nv dodgers. All. /
am a lone woman, and have no enc to
tara NV narfD