Mower County transcript., 1892-05-18
There they were fact, not fancy.
Z could still hold to the Joy Of a hone.

There they were fact, not fancy.
! could still hold to the JOY Of hope.
Ihey were too far away in this dusky
corner for absolute recognition; but there
We're the familiar gables Of the old hall;
and there was my horse, yes, himself,
bending over that very group Of Lugger-
mel springs. I must cling to my con-
idence; would not doubt. IF doubted,
1should become a stupid bungler over
the models, and probably disgust Padi-
ham by my awkwardness.
"dood morning, Mr.. Padiham."
"Good morning." said he, in that
hearty voice which resolutely declined
being surly.
We went at our work without delay.
For nearly two hours I put myself and
kept myself at Shorts Cutoff. Padi-
hem's skill and readiness astonished me.
Great artists are labor saving machines
to themselves, they leap to conclusion
in moment where potterer would be
becalmed for tide.
BY and by found that I could be of
no further use to this master craftsman.
| You understand this job better than
do" said I.
II understand it," said he.
"lll take short SPELL" said I, "and
look about the shop little"
"Don't be setting my tools by the ears. +"
"No; want to see those pictures by
| the chimney"
He said nothing. His lathe buzzed.
His chisel tortured bars of metal until
| they shrieked. The fragrance of fresh
cut steel filed the shop.
lsprang to the dusky corner. Ny heart
choked me. 7 wanted to shout so that
John Brent, miles away across the wilder
ness OF the great city, could hear and
come with one step.
For here was what hoped.
Here we were, our very selves, in this
bold, mastery drawing. John Brent
himself, the wounded knight; myself,
bringing him water from the fountain;
our dear Ellen, kneeling beside; and
bending over us, Don Fulano, the chiefest
hero of that terrible ride through the
canyon.
And more, if needed proof. For here.
in among water plants by the spring,
there in the grass under Wordsworth's
oak, lurked the initials E. G.
Found! All, not yet. A clew; but
perhaps clew that would break in my
hands as I traced it.
Host no time.
''These are pretty pictures" said l.
crushing myself into self possession.
''What has that got to do with this
job?"
"You think I'm a pretty good me-
chapic:"
"Middlins. You handle tools well
enough for a gentleman"
swell, if were not a bit of an artist !
should not even be a middling mechanic
I like to see fine a1& such as these draw
ings hung up before workngman. I
can understand how approaching such
things has helped you to become the first
mechanic in England"
who says am that?"
$50 the first engineer in England told
| me when he sent me here"
'Oh, he sent you! supposed you did
not find your own way"
| ''There has been no chance in my COM
ing here" said I, and my heart thanked
| God.
"You're right about those drawings,
young man." Padiham said, and his
voice seemed to find sweeter tone even
than before. ''They do me good and put
finer edge on my work. They're good
work and nv . 1rOnd hand !"
"Whose?'
The dwarf turned about and surveyed
me strictly. Then he started his lathe
again, tore off narrow ringlet of steel
from bit he was shaping, and flung
another stream of steely perfume in the
air.
''Whose hand?' asked again.
''Do you ask because you want to
know, or only to make idle talkY'
Il want to know"
"What for?''
II think the drawings are good. I
should like a pair by the same hand.
Can you direct me to the artistr'
mo"
"Why not?'
''The artist don't like strangers. I
will order you what you want"
"That will not do. I prefer to talk
over the subjects with the painter"
The dwarf turned again and gave me
a probing look, and again took up his
chisel and cut shining curls without
reply.
Igrew impatient of this parley. He