Arizona republican., 1893-02-18

The years pass quickly by sometimes,
and yet work wondrous changes, and
when five had been counted from that
May day when Macbeth was turned
out of the exhibition Sc g." found
herself really famousoand nearly rich.
One evening at little dinner party
given in her honor Edith heard that
Stretton was very ill and in really des-
titute circumstances.
She sat perfectly silent, while a
small fire of ejaculation ran round the
table. Nearly every one knew and
liked Stretton, and were all lawfully
sorry" or very much distressed" as
their inclinations were toward slang
or pure English.
The fact was that Stretton was too
true an artist to become tradesman
in his profession. He studied nature
and scorned all tricks-those tricks
that make money in this world.
Yet he was by no means a failure
and people were beginning dimly to
appreciate his wonderful ability when
this illness came and "knocked his Ia
bors all endways," as little Boggs would
phrase it.
Edith merely looked grim and asked
for his address, which she took down
carefully in her note book.
The following day she had the whole
thing fought out in her mind. She
would go and visit him in all the glory
of her prosperity; she would let him
see that the artist whose picture he
had treated with such open scorn had
found success, but she checked herself;
it was not right to give way to such
feelings.
The poor fellow was sick and help
less. She could not go to see him Just
from revenge. She began to think that
cherishing hatred had warped one side
of her nature.
So that afternoon, with what are
called mixed motives" believe, she
stepped into her little brougham,
dressed in the richest of black silks,
to express Icing bank account and car.
rying basket of peaches and white
grapes to express the Christian charity
part.
She stopped at accommodating
house, where a neat, faded old woman
opened the door and upon Mr.. Stretton
beng inquired for directed her to the
second floor, front"
She was lame, or she would go up
herself, and her sister was out who
usually answered the bell"
So Miss Grierson mounted the stairs
alone and tapped at the second floor,
front" In a moment little Boggs APP
peared with very red eyes and rather
sternly ushered her in without word
of greeting
Edith began graciously: How do
you do Mr.. Boggs? l came" but
stopped short, petrifed. Was that her
''Scene from Macbeth" hanging over
the mantelpiece?
AS sure as 1t was May 81, and that
she was alive and breathing And
what were those smaller ones on either
side? Two studies from Shakespeare,
with "E c." in the corner.
She slowly surveyed the wall. They
were covered with her earlier pictures
those she had carried to SMELLS with
her own hands.
"Well, you've found it out at last
said little Boggs, watching her with
folded arms.
What does it mean?" she gasped.
"Mean!" cried little Boggs, reckless.
ly well, he can't live more than two
hours, and you might as well know all.
II means that he has sacrificed his
whole life"
And there, in that little second
floor 'front.' that warm May afternoon,
Edith Grierson heard the whole story
how Stretton had bought her pictures
and praised them TO other people; how
he had neglected opportunities that
she might profit by them; how he had
helped her in secret and served her like
n slave; wasted his life, his time, his
talents to atone for a few hasty words
that he had spoken and she overheard.
Miss Grlerson just sat down on the
hardest chair in the room and began to
cry, with her face hidden in her hand.
'But | thought he had spite against
mel" she said, at length.
'Spite!" snorted little Boggs, with
unreasonable fercencss, considering
that he had given her the impression
himself. HE never had spite against
anyone in his life. He made me come
and tell you that, because he thought
you wouldn't feel so mortified then at
what you had heard"
rs he really dying?"
well, no." returned little Boggs,
"but he is in great danger"
'Boggs" called a faint voice from
the next room.