The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1893-01-25
cording to rae gospel of the lumin-

He parried Grace's occasional inqu1.
ing glances by explaining that he was
negotiating to 90 into the cattle busi-
ness-a man was going to bring him q
herd on trial.
Meanwhile he arrayed his shapely
figure in cowboyish top boots, blue
shirt and slouch hat, which became
him immensely, and made a sinister
mis- suits of summering Manitou.
Grace was absorbed and satisfied. One
day an idea struck him. "Grace, :"
said he, Il found little bit down here
the other day that I'd like to have you
sketch-to send home, you know.
You'll do it, won't you?"
"Why, of course. I'll speak to Mr..
Fleming"
"Oh, hang Mr.. Fleming!" Woodson
broke in. Fleming is all right in his
way, but I want you-your sketch,
you know"
The place was quite distance
away, over the mesa. They set out
for it the next day.
"Here it is" Woodson exclaimed,
after quite a tramp, pointing over the
burning plain to, where row of cot
tonwoods were banked against the
sky. tremulous in the vibrant air.
There, do that; call it "A Hundred
in the Shade or something like that. "
at doesn't seem to compose very
well" Grace murmured, holding the
tips OF her fingers together and inclos-
ing the picture in rosy frame through
which she gazed, half shutting her
eyes in truly artistic intentness.
well, never mind that; get the
character of it. You know Fleming
says the characters the thing. That's
what | Want-the characteristic true
character of this beastly country"
So Grace donned her big blue apron
and set to work with her biggest
brushes. But somehow she had trou-
BILE. The quality of that sky, burning
not seem to reside in cobalt, however
stretch of plain, tremulous under the
fiaring heavens, disturbed her, too,
and when she came to put in the airy
wall of cottonwoods along the horizon
the whole thing ended in a panty
muddle.
"Oh, 1 can't do anything to-day"
Grace exclaimed, petulantly, wiping
her troubled brow with the back OF
her hand and leaving streak of blue
along her forehead that intensified her
puzzled look.
"Why don't you put those trees in
green?" Woodson asked, with serious
concern, as Grace renewed her strug-
gle with the regulation blues and pur-
pie.
'But I don't see them so" she mur-
INJURED, in a moment of absorbed eff
fort.
"Grace," he blurted out almost be-
fore he knew it, II don't believe you
see anything. Excuse me, but l don't
believe you ever did. l don't believe
in your art; l don't believe in your ca
reer; don't believe in your independ-
ence! You're simply spelling the
incest girl in the world with it. You
see everything through Fleming's
eyes. You see things blue and purple
because he does; and he-well, he sees
things that way because some fellows
over in Paris do, and don't believe in
it. There, now. I've said it; come"
/. But it was not arranged that he
should finish what he had to say. He
he sat as he spoke of Fleming. When
he looked up Grace was several feet
away from him, hurrying down the
hill, with her head bowed.
"I'm brute-a miserable brute"
Woodson remarked to himself with
considera BILE force, as he watched her
striding toward the half dry creek.
"But some one ought to have told.
Her art is all foolishness. Look at
Fleming, even. He's 40, and I'd like
to know where he'd be if it wasn't for
his teaching. But I'm brute, just
the samoa heartless brutep
There was a plum thicket along the
creek, and after watching Grace dis
appear within it Woodson set about
picking up her sketching kit. This
done, it occurred to him that it would
be proper penance on his part to
wash her brushes-he had always
hated dirty brushes so. Gatherin 9
them up he started toward the creek.
When he got there he could see NO
sign of Grace. Could it be that any
thing had happened to her? The
thought made him catch his breath
for moment. He knew she was i'm
pulsive- capable of any rash move in
moment of excitement. Then he
heard stirring in the plum thicket
and he came face to face upon her in s
little opening, crying softly to herself
"Grace," he called, "why, what's the
matterp 1 know I'm brute, but
didn't think you'd take it So"
"Oh, can't you help me?" she plead
ed, and began cropping about and feel
ing aimlessly with her hands.
"Why, what's the matter?" he quer
led again, as she came CROPPING TOWARD
him and stumbled against him.
"Can't you help me at alp"
"Of course can, small girl; YOUR
all right. Nothing shall touch you,
he reiterated as his arms closed tight
ly around her.
@Oh, silly, can't you see I've lost m.
glasses?" she exclaimed, pulling ava.
from him and flushing red among th
greenery. But he held her tight.
"You don't want them; you see bet
ter without them, blue eyes. Confess
now, you never really saw before
Give up trusting in those wretchet
glasses and trying to be Independent
Come, see your career through M.
eyes"
But still she held back at arm
length really defiant. His fingers lef
a white circle where they clasped he
wrists. She seemed ready to cry an
then smiled instead. You'll get M
glasses if l promiseP"
He nodded.
Suddenly throwing her arms abou
his neck she said: 81 always like
your eyes," and pressed a kiss o
either lid. maybe you were righ
about my art" she added seriously
"But-this needn't interfere, need it?
"Interfere! Why, I'll tell that ma
that I've decided not to take his cattl
and we'll turn the whole herd int
paint 90. MelUilLe Upton, IN Ia,
Fields Washington.
A Hard-Hearted People.