The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-05-05
THE GIFT OF LIFE.


On a dreary November afternoon was
| having tea with one of the most successful
artists of the day. His studio was a large,
richly furnished room, with a profusion of
| beautiful things about it. There were
heavy curtains, long low divans, and stuffs
and scents from the east, and nowhere a
sign of hard work or struggle. Even the
palettes and the half finished portraits
seemed to exist merely for the sake of add
ing an extra dash of color to the whole
effect
My host, tall, handsome man of genial
manner, had that air of boundless leisure
which belongs sometimes to the most ener-
getic natures. The world said that he had
sold himself for money, that his earlier
works promised a richness of feeling and
fancy which could hardly find expression
in highly paid reproductions of fashionable
women. | was never sure if he realized
this, for no one was apparently less trou-
bled by regrets than he On this particu-
lar evening, however, we had branched into
a discussion on the possible strength and
depth of artistic feeling, and | maintained
perhaps too bitterly, that the true fire was
the moment how much of what | said
might apply directly to the man lounging
near me, and as he remained SILENT and
yet in some intangible way assured me
that he was listening, grew more and
more eloquent, and in the heat of my feel
ing began to walk up and down the room.
With more emphasis than originality, |
exclaimed that it was the love of art for
her own sake which was the true inspira-
ton of the artist, not love Of the gold she
brought him. Nowadays" | declared
bitterly, mo one loves her enough to make
any sacrifice"
| stopped short in front of a small bronze
figure which / had never noticed in his
room before. 1t stood upon table in a
dark recess, and | could scarcely see it: but
with that sudden instinct which warns us
now and then that we are close to some
thing great, / carried my prize quickly into
the light. 1t was the figure of girl Young
and strong, like fresh green shoot. She
was almost naked, and she was dancing
evidently because she could not help it
there was an irresistible gayety and JOYOUS
ness about her which made one long to
dance too. Her delicate head was thrown
back as if laugh were ripping from her
lips, and one arm was flung out with a
grace that was almost insolent. The other
arm was gone.
IS this an antique?" cried, impatient
for an answer.
sit is curious you should have taken I'D
that thing at this moment" my friend re-
turned thoughtfully. Look at it again.
think you will say it is not Greek in spite
of the inscription
l examined the enchanting creation once
more, and noticed that on the base was
written, in Greek characters, 1.-The Spirit
of JOY"
THAT figure was modelled hardly year
ago in Paris" my friend continued. "and
the man who imagined it gave his life for
1t. Would you like to hear the story"
And before had time to answer he be-
gan the following narrative:
None of the other artists who lived in
the same street, or even those in the same
house, knew much of the young sculptor
Leroy. He was from the south and had
come to study in Paris, but, unlike all the
rest, he never would make any friends or
JON in the wild pleasures of his fellow
workers. 1t was rumored that he was
were poor, and yet led pleasant convivial
lives.
mo; something else is wrong with Lee
roy, the artists used to say. HE is either
mad or in love" He never asked any one
inside his room, and indeed there was
nothing much to see, except very bare
garnet and a lot of white clay. with here
and there some lump beginning to take
human shape. Leroy's pale, quiet face did
not attract people, and he was very soon
left to go on his own way. The concierge
used to shrug her shoulders when she
reached the top story in her gossip over the
different inmates of the house. and wonder
how the thin, dark haired fellow lived.
Leroy, for all his melancholy looks and
his poverty, more stringent than any one
imagined, was happy. His mind was
thronged with shapes he longed to put into
marble, and this bare garnet formed the
background TO many wonderful dreams.
Sometimes, when he shut the door upon
the dark, ugly staircase, and rested a mo-
ment in his chair with his eyes closed, the
room seemed TO fill with beautiful forms.
which moved and swayed before him. and
he would lean back watching intently. !
I'll at last one above all the rest would en-
trance his eyes. Then he would strive TO !
imprint every line and curve upon his
memory, in fever lest anything should
escape him before that sudden stiffness in |
the air, which always woke him with a
snudder 10 the ugly realities of his life
Over and over again be was disappointed |
IN the attempt TO reproduce his vision, and /
often in despair he broke what he had mod |
eied. But he could not be unhappy while |
he lived in the world of his dreams. and he /
never thought Of the future Even after /
his hrst shock of finding his little store Of I
money exhausted, he began without mis- /
giving TO pawn his little possessions, and |
worked on IN the same unhampered way as |
before. But after a time. when his watch 1
ana his clothes, and. finally even his bed I
stead, had gone, he found himself growing 4
and restless. He was AT work on /
a figure Of Justice, but the tall. calm wou,- /
an opposed him, and she seemed 10 grow
less and less like the majestic shape which |
had once moved across his sight. Ipces- /
sanity ne tried TO conjure her I'D before !
him. but in this time of his greatest need /
his vision seemed 10 have deserted him |
He could think OF nothing but poverty and i
misery, and as he looked bitterly round the /
empty room he wondered why so little /