The Dalles daily chronicle. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948, 1891-02-16

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when they had finished it was a pretty
study. Scott had ordered block of
marble from Paris, and when it came he
set to work upon it to try the expert
ment of cutting an image directly in the
marble and without the aid of the clay
model. The image he was to follow was
the Venus of Milo. He was doing it
solely for pleasure, he said, and so
worked only when he felt like it. Mil
dred was frequently by his side in the
studio. Now and then she would pose
her head to give him an idea of curve
or line, and always it was more in fun
than in seriousness that the work went
on.
In few weeks, however, the head Of
the Venus was freed from the stone, and
to the wonderment of Mildred, the face
that she had seen hewed bit by bit from
the cold white marble seemed all at once
to have life, to be real, and more, to be
her own.
She laughed, and she cried.
'I feel as if some one had shut me up
In that stone, ages and ages ago." she
said, land that only now you had come
to take me out"
"And what do you suppose you would
=
asked, chiseling away at the Cupid lips of
his statue.
always been dead, suppose" she
said with sigh, looking up at him with
a roguish smile.
The marble lips could not hold him
when the red ones were there, just wait
ing to be kissed; nor could he work more
I that 6au-hn frr1
But for some unaccountable reason
society had got it into its head that
young Scott, ''the distinguished Amer
ican SCULPTOR" as he was commonly
called, had left society and gone into Sc
clusion to work. Strange stories got
about. He was finishing a statue he
had been at work upon for years, it was
said, and Immediately artists began to
interest themselves concerning his where
abouts. The newspapers, working in
the interest of the public, had made it
their particular business to look into the
matter. In part they were successful
They found that he was at Hull, and,
because he would not be seen, they in
ferred that he must be working upon
some masterpiece.
That was the story that went abroad.
Artists and newspaper men by the
score came to Hull, all anxious to catch
first glimpse of the new work of art
Scott had finished little more than the
head and bust of the statue of his Venus
of Milo; one of the broken arms to be
was still in the crude marble, and he
absolutely refused to have his work
viewed and criticized by this curious
crowd-at least before he had finished.
1t was perhaps week after this sort
of curiosity concerning Scott's new work
had set in, that Mildred and he, in the
studio together, were running through a
batch of letters. They were, as usual,
chiefly requests for interviews, or the
like. Among them was a note from the
president of the Society of American
Sculptors. He wished Mr.. Scott to give
him and few of his brothers in art the
pleasure of beholding what he felt sure
was to be the greatest of American
sculpture masterpieces.
Scott laughed. What perfect nom
sense!" he said, as he read the letter
aloud. It was the same old dattery, and
all caused, he thought, by his medal
He got up and walked across the studio
to where his work stood, and pulling off
the sheet that covered it called to Mil
dred in dramatic voice:
"Lookl the masterpiece of American
sculptureT and he pointed his finger at
the half finished statue
They both laughed, and then Mildred
added more seriously, 'But, Clement, it
is fine."
81 am glad you like it," he said. 81
don't care what they think; and, besides.
what do those cads, who haven't seen
any of my work, know of my work?
Their praises annoy me. doubt If some
of them could tell a plaster cast from a
marble cutting. They are ignoramuses
In regard to art-the most of them" and
Scott threw the sheet back over the
statue, Disguised.
''They can't tell soul lpturing when they
see it, he went on. 'Why, if were to
fix you up as the statue doubt even if
they would discover the deception.
And, by Jove, Mildred. I'll do it'll I'll fix
q box to look like marble, stand you in
it, drape your shoulder and whiten your
hair and face. With the use of some
plaster of Paris we can make your breast
seem to come directly out from the
rough stone; and your arm-why, Mil
dred, we can take that off. You will be
the real Venus of Milo, and I'll wager
they won't see the deception. Are you
willing, Mildredr' he asked, all excite
ment now.
do you think they would be de-
ceivedP' Mildred asked. "What a joke
if they were," she went on, catching the
spirit of his plans. "What joker
And so it was decided. Scott sent the
president of the Society of American
Sculptors a favorable answer to his let
ter. He stated the day and named the
hour he should be pleased to receive his
artist friends, and though he assured
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