Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1891-05-29
UNCLE FLAXLEY'S HOBBY,
By HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

The white, vertical light of a Feb
ruary day shoDe down through the sky
light of Julian Dover's studio, its pitiles
brightness bringing out every layer o.
dust on the Venetian red draperies, every
spot and stain on the much benicked
walls.
The lay figure was doubled up in {
most impossible attitude against big
chair, covered with cotton velvet and
cheap gilt fringe; bunch of faded roses,
in an old ''crackle" vase, hung Imply
down, and Mr.. Dover, in a shabby
plum velvet coat, and Turkish
fez perched jaunt1ly on one side of his
handsome head, was painting desperately
away. intent on economizing every sec.
ond of the precious wint.r daylight.
"Oh, the deuce!' he exclaimed, alb
ruptly. "What made you jump so,
Clarie? A man don't want the current
of his ideas disturbed just when
The model lifted her large, wine
brown eyes to his face, with depreca-
tory smile.
"I hear Kitty Flaxley outside" said
she.
"Outside she must stay, thenw re-
marked Mr.. Dover, frowning at his pal
cite. 'T can't be interrupted; every
minute is a lump of gold. Wait!" he
roared, as a gentle rapping sounded on
the door. ''Clarie is posing for mep'
And thea one perceived a slight,
graceful figure in coarse lilac cotton
GOV and a striped handkerchief care
lesslv twic.tted around her rich, brown
locks, leaning in an artistic attitude
against a w1ndow-sash studded with
many small panes, that was supported be-
tween two standards.
Her fingers were intertwined in her
hair; her elbows rested on the sill, where
coarse fcwer-pot or two were ranged.
- She was not Mrs. Julian Dover for the
time being; she was "The Fisherman's
Wife," destined b.. good luck and the
grace of the hanging committee to figure
in the forthcoming spring exhibition.
- "Oh, Julian, l am so tired!" she
pleaded. every bone in me is cramped.
Mayn't rest?'
= "You'ye no idea of true art" said
Julian, slowly. "You haven't posed
half an hour yet"
''1'm so sorry; but"
: "Jump, then!" said the painter--for
the first time realizing how pale and
worn the delicate, oval face was: II
suppose I can be putting In the distant
sea while you gossip with your Kitty"
He caught her hand as she skipped
past him, and kissed her--a kiss which
was rich reward for all the cramp and
WEAKNESS she had endured-and she ran
out to the hall, Juggling as she went to
remove the knotted red silk neckerchief
which supplied an element of warm color
to the picture.
There stood her quondam schoolmate,
Kitty Flaxley, with CHEEKY lips and spar
ooh, Claire, how odd you lookl" said:
she.
eyes," Said Mrs. Dover, composedlE
"T'm The Fisherman's Wife Every
bone in me is a separate pain, with sit
ting so long watching for my husbands
boat"
Both laughed; and then the artists
wife led Miss Flaxley into the studio,
where Julian nodded a pleasant saluta-
ton to her.
"You won't expect me to stop work
ing2" said he.
"Of course not!' said Kitty. ''It's
work that I've come to talk about. Such
LEWIS as I've got! The family fortunes
are all made. Our Uncle Flaxley came
home yesterday. That is, he isn't our
uncle-he's only sort of cousin; but
mamma naturally wants to make the re-
lationship as near as possible; so we are
all instructed to call him uncle"
"And who is Uncle Flaxley2"
"That's Just it," said Kitty, laughing.
"He went to the South Sea Islands,
thirty years ago, and people took no no.
tice at all of his exit except to say some
thing about good radiance to bad rub
bish,' He comes back, and you would
think him canonized saint. Nothing
is good enough for him."
t'Oh!" said Dover. "He's made
money!"
EXACTLY" nodded Kitty. stBut he's
the oldest old fsh-a little, dried-up,
parchment-faced man, who goes about
finding fault with everything and every
body, and promulgatiug the most out
landish theories that ever were heard of.
The first thing he did was to upset al
our family traditions. You know, Claire
how mamma has brought us up-like the
lilies of the field, that toll not, neithe
do they spina Now, we are each of u
to learn a trade. I'm going into dress
making!"