Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1890-01-21
ner, turned away from tho picture, and
swept from the gallery.

picture. II was not half so brilliant o
creation as many that had been born OF
his brush and brain, and now graced the
drnwing-rooms Of Beacon street. There
were no brilliant tints and shadows; no
gorgeous bolts OF western sunset clouds,
or glory OF autumnal coloring; instead,
only IA soft twilight yailing quiet
woodland nook and rustic cottage
door.
II was little domestic pictLro-a
beautiful young mother, sitting on the
cottage threshold with her child upon
her lap, aud her young husband, proud,
tender and manly, STOPPING over thcm.
A vine threw its thick shadows over the
groop; and June rosos slept upon the
bush close by. Only simple picture
over which mono OF his brother artists
had rhapsodized about tone" or ''col-
oring,r or ''pcrspectivo"--which he had
not Thought. worthy of placing in-tho
Artists Exhibition" in the hall below
yet picture, which, II you once took
II into your heart haunted you like a
dream.
And the elegant, proud, fastidious
Miss Rutherford, who had ordered paint
ings from Italy, and whose drawing
room hold choicest goms Of art, yertu,
canoes, and antiques, had been anxious
to secure this.
Well, lady who sots up for connois-
seur in art may have her fancies, and
why should not Miss Rutherford have
hers?
The ''old south" pealed out eleven,
clear above the car-din and hack-rattlo
OF the noisy street below; and with its
strokes came the feet OF Dick Cranshaw,
gentleman OF cultivated mustacho and
leisure, over the studio threshold.
"Morning, Vanc; before that cottage
door yet? Come; walk up TO the Athe-
neum with mo to have another look al
Church's icsbergr" safTau
Thank you. but am too busy. Be
sides, I've seen icebergs sufficient for
one morning. answered the artist, quite
bluntly. II was 30 like Etheridge Vane
to bolt out his thoughts upon his lips.
"Ahal" shouted his visitor, In great
glce. IN wager a ticket TO the 'Bos-
ton that the fair, proud, cold and stat
uesque Miss Rutherford has been In this
morning. D,nt fash up now, Vane.
| saw her carriage before the Atheneum
as came along, and concluded she was
out pictuie-worshiplBY. that's why
proposed going mp now As for my adj
Icctives, they we're berrowcd from n
jilted lover Of hers, but your noun Is the
better part Of speech decidedly Ice
berg docs suit her, and no mistake
beautiful, grand, and glittering, but
freezing cold. They say she has no
heart; eh, Vane?"
"Well," and Etheridge yane's hands
were busy with his brushes, and his
tone was cool, though there was Gagged
lerccncss In his eye.
Cranshaw laughed at first; then grew
almost embarrassed. HIS ease died un-
der that strong gaze and the query OF
the single word.
''0h, pshaw, Vane; don't eat n fellow
up with that wolhsh eye OF yoursl~ You
make mo feel as II I'd said isomething
ought to take back, But / can't do 1t,
pom my honor, dear vanel You ought
TO dakc It friendly in n fellow when he
warns you OF rich, beautiful, but
heartless woman, who Is like ice to all
mcnr' and he stroked his luxuriant
beard most complacently.
But the artists eye grew scarcely less
hercc, though his lip curled half con-
temptuously. Glancing about the walls
Of his studio, he said, in low, slightly
bitter tone:
"Crnnshaw, do you take me for foolp
True old Moneybags and Nine. Pet
poodle have boughta few Of my pictures,
with view TO give struggling genius
lift, suppose, but do you think the
proprietor of lean purse, good stock
OF brushes, fair quantity Of tube paints,
and four unfinished pictures, viii ruin
the risk Of tal
'.of getting cut and chilled against the
sharp corners OF an iceberg?" interrupt
ed Cranshaw. "No, my dear boy, don't
believe any such nonsense of you," and
he went on with an admirable aifecta-
tor Of paternity. "You learned your
geography lesson too well to venture
into those polar seas in winter time;
but, my dear boy, we road somewhere,
believe, that tho artic summer, though
brief, Is fair--and these bergs sometimes
get loosened and float away into warmer
seas and melt. You soc look on the
subject in warmer light than did
minute ago-ch, Harry2 And unmar'
ried ladies don't affect cottages and rus
tic happiness, and that sort Of thing foi
nothing, in my opinion"
'sPshaw, Cranshawlr growled the art
Ist, lifting tho painting off the easel
and substituting an unfinished one in
Its stead, upon which he went TO work
furiously, danbing itwith great blotches
Of umber-'' ''pshaw, sayl" N
"a safe expletive, my dear Vane,'
said Cranshaw, coolly, rising. "But
must be off, II you won't do the north
this morning. SO an reroirt"
The artist paused, with his brush sus
,>,,aad avar thh little heaps OF fresi
poirts nrenared ON the palette.
Dreamy lIvht hnd superceded that fierc,
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oeps snv,,, % a. oos
inuriiis'y' ~. TIT 1
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