Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1891-06-05

ter still, II You live In town, appoint me your
family doctor. IL may prove the nucleus of
that West End practice which Is is the dream
of every doctor TO establish" s't31
have already alluded to the stfange beau
ty of Carrston's dark eyes. As soon as com
partnership commenced between us those
eyes became to me, from scientific reasons,
objects Of curiosity on account OF the mysterl-
Gus expression which at times detected in
them. Often and often they wore look the
like to which, imagine, IS found only in the
eyes of a somnambulist-a look which one
feels certain il intently fixedupon something,
yet upon something beyond the range of ones
own vision. During the first two or three
days of our newborn intimacy, found this
eccentrlcity Of CaTiston's positively startling.
When now and then turned, TO him, and
found him staring with all his might at moth
ing, my eyes were compelled to follow tho
direction in which his own were bent. 1t
was at first impossible to dvest oneself of the
belief that something should be there to
justify so fixed gaze. However, as the
rapid growth Of our friendly intercourse soon
showed me that he was boy OF most ardent
poetic temperament-perhaps even more q
poet than an artist-I laid at the door Of the
Muse these absent looks and recurring flights
into vacancy.
We were at the Fairy Glen one morning,
sketching, to the best of our ability, the swirl
ing stream, the gray rocks, and the overhang-
Ing trees, the last just growing brilliant with
autumnal tints. So beautiful was everything
around that for n long time worked, idled,
or dreamed in contented silence. CarriSton
had set up his easel at some little distance
from mine. At last turned to see how his
sketch was progressing. He had evidently
fallen into one Of his brown studies, and APP
parently, a harder one than usual His brush
had fallen from his fingers, his features were
immovable, and his strange dark eyes were
absolutely riveted upon large rock in front
of him, at which he gazed as intently as il
his hops Of heaven depended upon seeing
through it.
He seemed for the while oblivious 10 things
mundane. A party of laughing, chatterlng,
terrible tourist girls scrambled down the rug
ged steps, and one by one passed in front Of
him. Neither their presence nor the inquisi-
tive glances they cast on his statuesque face
reused him from his it of abstraction. For
a moment wondered If the boy took opium
or some other narcotic on thesly. Full OF the
thought rose, crossed over to him, and lid
my hand upon his shoulder As he felt my
touch he came 10 himself, and looked up at
me in dazed, inquiring way.
"Really, CaristOn," l said, laughingly,
''you must reserve your dreaming fits until
we are in places where tourists do not con-
gregate, or you will be thought madman, or
at least poet"
He made no reply. He turned away from
me impatiently, even rudely; then picking
up his brush, went on with his sketch. Aft
er q while he seemed to recover from his pet
tishness, and we spent the remainder Of the
day as pleasantly as usual
AS we trudged home in the twilight, no
said to me In an apologize, almost penitent
way.
II hope was not rude to you just now."
"When do you meanY' l asked, having al
most forgotten the trivial incident
"When you woke me from what you call
ed my dreaming"
"Uh dear, no. You were not at all rude.
II you had been, IL was but the penalty due
10 my presumption. The flights OF genius
should be respected, not checked by mater
ial hand"