Nevada County picayune., 1891-12-17
like it-why, he ca Il lump it !"

like it-why, he can lump it!"
 Mrs. Smith looked with admiring terror at Jacintha.
 Il don't sec" said she, 'how you dare to be so positivei"
 Because" Jacintha returned, 1T know Pm in the right"
 MT. Smith openly opposed. Mrs. Smith tremulously discouraged. John Jacob Finlay set his face. like a flint, against the whole proceed ing, but Jacintha persisted, and went to New York with her little trunk and her gigantic anticipations.
 II wash my hands of it all" said Mir. Smith, "and want you to have nothing more whatever to do with that girl, Phebe."
 "Oh, pa" twittered the little matron, "she's your own sister '"
 ''I don't recognize no woman for a sister that don't hear to reason, :" said MT. Smith, sternly.
 Jacintha Smith cheeriIy went to work. $ he live q economically ], slept on sofa behind chintz curtain in her studio, and rose at daylight Co cook her own breakfast over a kerosene stove, and got to work early. And she had not been in New York q week before her first order came-to paint portrait of a chlld whom her landlady had just lost. Her only guide was battered photograph, but Jacntha made a success of it. She idealized the whole subject. She put the figure of the little child on a daisy-strewn bank with a brook in front and a tangle of hazel bushes in the back ground, The poor mother burst out sobbing at the sight.
 "Oh, how beautiful it isl" she cried "Oh, love to look at him SO, Perhaps he's playing just that way in heaven at this very moment! !'
 The landlady was only poor woman. but she knew plenty of peo- i pie who were better off In her business of long-letting she came across a wide variety of the human species, and the little pictare with the glittering, shining ripples of the brook, the green gloom of the hazels, and the burnishcd gleam of the child's long fair hair, was ad- mired far and wide. More orders came in. Some were paying and others were nOt-but Jacintha was l kept tolerably busy. In the midst of it all she made time to paint up a pretty sketch of an old ruined mill wheel outlined against a red sunset sky, which was hung on the walls of the Spring Exhibition.
 After that, Jacintha had no more l doubts nor fears. She knew, now, ] that she was going to succeed. l Mrs. Smith had not quite kept faith with her husband. Now and then express parcels of spring cbic@- ems, new butter, delicious red ap- ples, jars of homemade mincelneat would make their appearance at the studio, and more than once the good soul sat up late to write a laboriOus letter to Jacintha, telling all the home news, and limiting that any time Jacintha would come home and abandon her wild project of ca reer, Mir. Smith would, she was almost sure, overlook the past. ,Ia- cintha smiled as she read Phebe's S irregular scrawls, but they did not move her fixed determination.
 Success IS a wonderful medium of reconciliation, however. At the end of two years MT. Smith actually deigned to enter his sisters studio, on one of his visits to New York. It was large, elegant room now, with another apartment separated from it by Turcoman portieres-and Jacin- tha had regular ''reception-day, " and het meals were sent in from a neighboring restaurant.
 ''It must take a deal of money to keep this thing going" said MT. Smith, glancing around him.
 Ut does," quietly answered Ja- cintha,
 "Humph," said her brother. "Be careful you don't get into debt. "
 'Ill be careful said Jaclntha. While Phebe eyed the Persian pray er-rugs that covered the hardwood floor, surreptitiously felt of the red silkcn hangings, and edged away from the lay figure which had such an unpleasantly human appearance.