Evening journal., 1893-06-07
STORIES OF THE DAY.
An ArtIst,s sympathy.


It was on West street near Twelfth.
The day was oppressively warm and the
mercury was revelling among the nine
ties. All nature lay sweltering beneath
the fiery darts of the sun and woman
kind was enjoying a siesta.
There was pull at the door-bell.
Through the house the chimes reverber-
ated and at last aroused the housewife
from her dreamful slumbers.
"0h, MY ! wonder what foolish person
is out calling on such an afternoon
was her menSal question, to which her
heart Of hearts could give no answer.
There was scramble for shoes; a
wrapper followed, a few dashes Of the
comb and brush and she was ready to
answer the summons. In addition to a
very pretty wrapper she wore the pleas.
ATTEST of smiles When her hand
touched the knob Of the door her mouth
was framed to say
why, how do you dog I'm so glad to
see you. Walk right in was Just
tossing about on my bed and wondering
If some of my friends would not come in
to relieve the monotony."
She threw open the door. A sorrowful
specimen of humanity greeted her. A
travelling crayon artist. with framed
samples of his handiwork hung all about
him.
Good afternoon, num-"
Good afternoon"
Il came to see If you didn't want
life size crayon portrait made Of some Of
your family2'
mo, do not "
Madame, have you no picture OF your
aged father-the man who cared for you
| IT. ha ha1t,1aqcragu Of inf faftotr. 1,r~oI
in happy childhood and cherished you as
the apple of his eye when you were in
budding womanhood2'
mo, sir"
Have you cabinet portrait Of that
dear mother who gave you being; who
nursed you through every illness of
childhood; clothed you in childhood and
a1monished you in womanhoodl Who,
when you were tootsy wootsy kept a
double entry account of that gum game
you had Of cutting teeth?'
mo, sir; | do not"
"Or some brother who fought battles
| for you and ran errands for some other
boys sister, A fine, curly healed, little
fellow with freckles on his face and
mischief in his mind?'
mo, sir; do not want"
"Or some dear uncle, aunt or cousin,
who has gone to that peaceful bourne
from whence no traveller returnsT
, "No, sir; do not want any"
T perhaps you have a cabinet likeness
. of your first lover A handsome, bright.
. eyed, manly fellow with chestnut hair
eyes as soft as the purr of a cat, with
military carriage and white-horse line
i of credit2 My experience has taught me
+ that if there is anything the husband
, likes to see in the parlor it is one of m!
life size crayon portraits of his wife,
i first love. 1t soothes his feelings
9 to surprise her standing before
g It with one hand full Of tears an,
the other full Of old yellow letters, fade
flowers and horse. chestnut locks. Why
Is madame, have made half dozen sue
n pictures for a woman ON Washington
street, and her husband has only bee
home six times since / made the first one
4 Il gives a woman an opportunity to liv
II over again the feelings of her first love
You know, madam, that my friend, III
late AL. Tennyson, said, ''Tis better Z
70 have loved and lost than never to hav
n loved at all. He got that idea fror
4 me. You say you have no such pictureG
" "No, sir; tell you again that don
J. want"
le "Jilted, l suppose. Poor soul, and S
d young It is shame II ever see hiI
l. shall rebuke him. was Tilted once
E. but have gotten over it. | sent he
picture back and l suppose you did th
lie same Have you no great grandfathe
IT who died of lead poison in the war {
"a 1912; no uncle who died of volunte'
freman's pneumoniaY
q, mo, sir. b"
III 81 thought so Madam, you have m
n sympathy; so has your husband.
Id never ask woman to have her livin
re husband crayoned. It would not
lie fair. He wants to get out of the houl
once in a while Death has not relieve
Id him Of his earthly sufferings2'
ut "NO, sir; ] want you"
81 thought so, madam Extend N
sympathy to the whole family, for thin
l., it is needed. If you should ever want
life-like crayon Of James G. Blaine or
There was a slam of the door rus
is ling of skirts in the entry, a tripping
feet on the stairs-then all was still
He looked from the closed door 10 q
is venetian blinds in the second story an
as he looked away, murmured:
Il thought so.
l., Five minutes later Mrs. Arabel
lis Brown, who had come over to talk fas
ions, wondered why her friend was o.
on such a hot afternoon. At the san
on time Mrs. Jones was upstairs congrat
lating herself that the crayon portra
artist might pull the bell from its han
iss ings before she would 60 to the do
III again.
10. Celebrating the Emperor's Birth.
Tho Cbipap,ap ~ fbfo ritv calahraf =,