Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-03-14

M|lL!&ElNe'
sssS
"Onlv one person In the ,porid can hare
painted them"
How jubilant felt the next morning
as made my way toward Lamely courti
As the clock dallied on Its last stroke
Of seven, entered Padiham's shop.
Ny first glance-eyes never looked
more earnes''y-was toward the two
drawings.
There they were-fact, not fancy.
Icould still hold to the Joy Of hope.
They were too far away In this dusky
corner for absolute recognition; but there
were the familiar gables Of the old hall;
and there was my horse, yes, himself,
bending over that very group Of Lugger.
mel springs. | must cling to my con.
fidence; would not doubt. fIdoubted,
should become a stupid bungler over
the models, and probably disgust Padi.
ham by my awkwardness.
"Good morning, Mr.. Padiham."
"Good morning." said he, In that
hearty voice which resolutely declined
being surly.
We went mt our work without delay.
For nearly two hours put myself and
kept myself at Shorts Cutoff. Padi.
hams skill aLd readiness astonished me.
Great artist an labor saving machines
to themselves, they leap to conclusion
In moment where potterer would be
becalmcd FOR tide.
by and by found that could be Of
no further use to this master craftsman.
"You understand this job better than
I do" said l.
81 understand It." said he.
"Tll take short SPELL" said I. "and
look about the shop little"
"Don't be setting my tools by the ears. T"
"No; want to Sec 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 filled the shop.
Isprang to the dusky corner. Ny heart
choked Inc. wanted to shout 30 that
John Brent. miles away across the wilder
ness of the great city, could hear and
come with one step.
To- harx. ,,..,a ,,hat n hny,al
Here we were, our very selves, In this
bold. masterly 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, II needed proof. For here,
In among the water plants by the spring,
there In the grass under Wordsworth's
ak. lurked the initials E. q.
Found! All, not yet. A clew; but
perhaps clew that would break In my
hands rs traced II.
lost no time.
"These are pretty pictures" said !.
crushing myself into self possession.
"What has that got to do with this
job"
"You think I'm pretty good me
chanic:'
"Middling. You handle tools well
enough for gentleman"
"Wen. II were not bit OF an artist I
should not even be q middling mechanic.
like to see line art such as these draw.
inss hung up before workingman. l
can understand how appreciating such
thingshas helped you to become the iirst
mechanic in England"
who says am THAR
$50 the first engineer In England told
me when he sent mo here"
"Oh. he sent you! supposed you did
not find your own way"
"Thcre has been no chance In my com
ing here" said l, and my heart thanked
God.
"YCu're right about those drawings.
young man." Padiham said, and his
voice seemed to find q sweeter tone even
than before. '"rhey do me gooo and put
q finer edge ON my work. They re good
work and by good hand"
"Whoser'
The dwarf turned about and surveyed
me strictly. Then he started his lathe
again. tore of narrow ringlet OF steel
from bit he was shaping. and flung
another stream OF steely perfume In tho
air.
"whose handy' asked again.
"Do you ask because you want to
know, or only to make idle talky'
81 want to know"
"What fory"
II think the drawings are good. ]
should like a pair by the same hand.
Cin you direct me to the artisty'
"No."
"why noty'
"The artist don't like strangera 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 mp his
chisel and cut shining curls without
reply.
lgrew impatient Of this pariey. He
tnew someth. :. and 1t must out.
"Look at ine. George hadihamr !
said. "Stcp your lathe minute and
charge me fo,' the time hundred times
overt ! know the hand that painted
these pictures. My portrait, and my
friends. and my horses portrait ars
here on your wall. Only one person In the
world could have painted them-Ellen
Clitheroe. Here are her initials In the
corner. You know where sheis. ] wish
to See her. I must see her at once. nowr
keep cool. young mani This 10 m,
shop I'm master here. I've put bigger
men than you out Of this door before
What's all this must and shall about
What's yoor nameT
"Richard Wade"
Padiham left his lathe. camo towart
me. surveyed mo earnestly ags In an{
then took down tho drawing WI erein