The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-07-14
AN ARTISTS STORY.

It's 20 years since that time. | was a
light hearted boy then-a boy of 20. I
lived in Paris, and | studied Art. Being
an artist, l always spelled Art with a
capital A. have other things to think
of besides Art now. have to think of
painting what the public will buy. I
have to make it pay-I have made it
pay.
But it is not about myself | want to
talk; it is of Orson-of Orson the hir-
suite, Orson the Unrelenting. Orson the
Halter of Art. Of course his name
wasn't Orson. His real name was
Jobinard, and he lived at the corner of
the Rue de rAncienne Coincide, did this
uncompromising grocer, this we'll to do
Esau of the Quarter Latin, this man
who hated Art, artists, and, above all,
Art students with a peculiar ferocity.
Alcibiade Jobinard had reason to dis
like Art students. They had a nasty
way of getting into his debt. but Jobi-
nard took the bull by the horns-he gave
no more credit.
MA foiv' he would say, with a super
cilious sheer, Credit is dead, my good
young sir. He doesn'tlive here any long
er. He is dead and buried"
And then one had to go empty away.
1t had been so handy in the good old
days just to run into Jobinard's for
whatever one wanted, and-well, "stick
it up" You see, you could get an entire
meal at Jobinard's, n Of those little
sham homeless hams; they've quite
enough on them for four. Timed pro-
visions in inexhaustible VI. .:ety, wines
from rs confines upward, liquors, des-
sert, even in the shape of cheeses Of all
sorts, almonds and raisins, grapes and
peaches. 1t was excessively convenient.
When one was hard up, one dealt with
Jobinard, and it was put down to the &C
count. When IL was in funds, n
dined and breakfasted at a restaurant
and left Jobinard's severely alone.
But now all was changed. Mile. Am
enaide was all uncommonly pretty girl,
and we were all desperately head over
heels in love with her. By 1--WE" I mean
the Art students. but of all the Art stu
dents that were desperately in love with
| Mile. Amenaide, Daburon, the sculptor,
was the most demonstrative. Jobinard
hated Daburon with adeadly hatred be-
cause Daburon never expended more
than 10 confines at a time. It was the
society Of Mile. Amenaide that Daburon
hungered for, and he got it because he
was entitled to it, being a purchaser.
Mile. Amenaide was Jobinard's cash
Ter. 1t was a large shop, and there were
several assistants, but all moneys were
paid to Mile. Amenaide, the cashier, who
sat in a glass box underneath the great
Ginning clock.
Daburon, the sculptor, would enter
the shop, nod in a cavalier manner to
Jobinard, as though he were the very
dust beneath his feet; then he would
look at Mile. Amenaide, raise his hat
with his right hand, place his left upon
his heart and make her a low bow; then
he would pretend to blow her a kiss
from the tips Of his fingers, as though he
were a circus rider; then he would take
up a box of matches or some other pc
culiarly inexpensive article.
Have the kindness to wrap that up
carefully for me in paper" he would re-
mark in a patronizing tanner. Then he
would march up to Mile. Amenaide with
the air of an Alexander-you could al
most hear the tune of ''See the Conquer
ing Hero Comes" playing as you saw him
do it. He would pay his 10 centimes
and whisper some compliment into the
ear of Mile. Amenaide. Then he would
receive his purchase from the hand of NJ.
Jobinard in a magnificent and con-
descending amer Then he would
strike a ridiculous attitude of exagger
ated admiration and stare at the I'M
happy grocer as though he were one of
the seven wonders of the world.
what a bust!' OF What arms!" or
What muscularityr' he would say, and
then he would heave a sigh and swagger
out Of the shop.
Jobinard, who was a particularly ugly,
thickset, hairy little man, used at first
rather to resent these references to his
personal advantages. His four assist
ants and his cashier would litter, and
Jobinard used to blush, but at length
the poor fellow fell into the snare laid
lOI u1Il DJ Iu6 tllldlI DdUuIOu.
He got to believe himself the perfect
type of manly beauty. When a French
man has once come to this conclusion,
there is no folly of which he is not ready
to be guilty.
The fact is, Daburon had passed the
word round. The Art students, male
and female, invariably stared apprecia-
lively at the little, hairy, thickset Jo-
binard as though he were the glass of
fashion and the mold Of form. Jobinard
now began to give himself airs. He
staggered about the shop, he exhibited
himself in the doorway, he posed and at
titudinized all day long, and then we be-
gan to make it rather warm for Jobi-
nard.
"Ah, NJ. Jobinard, if you were only Il
poor man, what a thing it would be for
Artl Ah, if we only had you to sit to us
in the nude. We are going to do Ajax
defying the lightning next week. What
IN Ajax you would make, Jobinard!"
"You really ought to sacrifice yourself