Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1892-05-14

wonderful picture, which would
eclipse even his renowned sDanced
to Death itself But no-not he!
So far from that, indeed, he seemed
hardly ever to enter his studio at all,
for at almost any hour of the day he
was to be seen about the streets OF
the town, playing dice, drinking
wine, chattering with his friends, OF
lounging about the market place.
Such extraordinary conduct nat
urally perplexed the honest citizens
not little and they accounted for it
in two very different ways. The
| friends of Hans Holbein stoutly
maintained that he felt himself so
certain of winning the match as not
to require to trouble himself in any
way about a matter which was prac-
tically decided already. Those who
favored the blacksmith, on the other
hand, took an exactly opposite view
of the case, and vowed that the
painter knew that he had no chance
of winning, and intended, when the
time came, to give up the contest
without making any effort at all.
! As the appointed day drew near,
the whole city was in ferment. Its
entire population seemed to be di-
vided into two contending factions
of Holbeinites and Smithites; and
countless quarrels mot unfrequently
ending in blows were going on in
every street over the still undecided
matter. Women scolded one another,
and boys punched each others heads,
on the same knotty question which
was setting their husbands and
fathers by the ears in the tavern or
the market place; and more than one
young lady, who sympathized very
strongly with one party, sent her
lover about his business because he
had the impudence to side with the
other.
AT last the long-expected day ar
rived. A full hour at least before
the time fixed for the trial, the mar
ket place was crowded from size to
side; and the very air seemed to
tremble with the shout that went up
uttered by Smithites and Holbein-
ties alike-as the stalwart figure of
the. blacksmith was seen forcing its
way through the throng, carrying in
his hands something closely wrapped
in cloak, which must of course be
the masterpiece of art which he was
about to exhibit to them.
Having at length reached the tiny
space in front of the tavern which
had been kept clear for himself and
his rival the smith, with a smile of
disdainful confidence, which showed
that he already regarded the victory
as his own, turned round so as to face
the expectant multitude. and at the
same moment withdrew the cloak
from the object that he carried,
which at the first glance appeared to
be nothing more remarkable than a
small black dog.
Bnt in another instant a cry of
amazement and delight broke from
the lips of every man in the crowd;
for the dog, though it looked and
even moved like living animal, was
seen to be made of iron!
Nor was this all. When the smith
set it down and called out, "Run,
Dirck" the iron dog ran round and
round the clear space, barking loudly
all the time.
laundering shouts of applause
burst from the blacksmlth's party,
while the Holbeinites stood silent,
and looked very blank indeed.
"What is there that can beat this?"
roared an exultant Smithite. "Iron
has beaten canvas, as our own eyes
have seen. Where is Hans Holbein
now?"
Where was Hans Holbein, indeed?
No voice answered to the call, and
there was no sign of him in any part
of the crowd. It soon became evil
dent that, wherever the painter might
be, he was nowhere in or near the
market place.
Crimson with shame and rage at
the derisive laugh which the Smithites
set up, three or four of Holbein's
special friends tore off in various d.
r"ctions to look for him: and one of
them, by a lucky inspiration, went
straight to a small tavern where the
painter was won't to have his lunch.
Here he found Master Hans sitting
down to his bread and cheese and
beer as coollY as il the smith and his
challenge had never existed.
"Hans-the blacksmith! the chal-
lenge" gasped the messenger, burst
ing headlong into the room.
'.Ah! very true" said Holbein,
composedly. Faith, had quite
that; and, in truth, I doubt
much if I have ever thought of it
since the day it happened"
s.Never thought of it?" yelled the
other, who had lain a heavy wager on
Holbein's success. 'tDo you mean to
say you have got nothing ready at
alp"
The painter rose slowly to his feet,
and eyed his Communion with q lOOk