Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-07

came upon him. and he pitched grunting at
their feet. Dick laughed again, remember
ing the horror. Itseemed so exactly like his
own case. "But L have little more time
allowed me-" he said. He paced up and
down the room, quietly at first, but after
ward with the hurried feet of fear. 1t was
as though black shadow stood at his elbow
and urged him to 90 forward; and there were
only weaving circles and floating pin-dots
before his eyes.
"We must be calm, Binkie; we must be
calm" He talked aloud for the sake OF dis
traction. "This isn't nice at all. What
shall we do? We must do something. Our
time is short. I shouldn't have believed
that this morning; but now things are differ
ent. Binkie, where was Moses when the
light went out?'
Binkie smiled from ear to ear, as a we'll
bred terrier should, but made no sugges-
ton.
Were there but world enough and time,
This coyness. Binkie were no crime.
But at my back Ialways hear
He wiped his forehead, which was un-
pleasantly damp. "What can do? What
can do? 1 haven't any notions left, and I
can't think connectedly, but I must do
something. or shall 60 off my head"
The hurried walk recommended, Dick
long-neglected canvases and old notebooks;
for he turned to his work by instinct, as
thing that could not fail. "You won't do,
and you won't d." he said at each inspec-
tion. 'No more soldiers. I couldn't paint
'em. Sudden death comes home too nearly,
and this is battle and murder both fer me-"
The day was failing, and Dick thought
for moment that the twilight of the blind
had come upon him unawares. "Allah Al
mightyP he cried, despairingly, "help me
through the time of waiting, and I won't
whine when my punishment comes. What
can do now, before the light goes?"
There was no answer. Dick waited till
he could regain some sort of control over
himself. His hands we're shaking, and he
prided himself on their steadiness; he could
feel that his lips were quivering, and the
sweat was running down his face. He was
lashed by fear, driven forward by the desire
to get to work at once and accomplish some-
thing, and maddened by the refusal of his
brain to do more than repeat the news that
he was about to go blind. "It's humilia-
ting exhibition" he thought, "and I'm glad
Torp isn't here to see. The doctor said I
was to avoid mental worry. Come here and
let me pet you, Binkie."
The little dog yelped because Dick nearly
squeezed the bark out of him. Then he
hSoAu bhO mon SpCdhIHk IL VIC
and, dog-like. understood that his trouble
stood off from him.
"Allah Is good, Binkie. Not quite so
gentle as we could wish, but we'll discuss
that later. 1 think 1 see my way to it now.
ALI those studies OF Bessie's head were nom
sense, and they nearly brought your master
into a scrape. 1 hold the notion now as
clear as crystal-'the Melancolia that
transcends ali wit There shall be Malsie
in that head, because I shall never get
Maisie; and Bess, of course, because she
knows all about Melancolis, though she
doesn't know she knows; and there shall be
some drawing in it, and it shall all end up
with laugh. That's for myself. Shall she
giggle or grin? No, she shall laugh right
out of the canvas. anG every man and woman
that ever had sorrow of their own shall
what is 1t the poem says?-
Understand the speech and feel a stir
OF fellowship in all disastrous fight.
"'In all disastrous fght?' That's better
than painting the thing merely to pique
Maisie. 1 can do it now because have it
inside me. Binkie, I'm going to hold you
up by your tail. You're an omen. Come
here"
Binkie swung head downward for a mo-
ment without speaking.
'Rather like holding a guinea-pig; but
you're brave little dog. and you don't yelp
when you're maltreated. It is an omen."
Binkie went to his own chair, and as often
as he looked saw Dick walking up and