Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1894-11-15

fresh cigar on the steps, 1T will be /
full week, besides. before go into tn,
swing again. shall try Brydon.'
With that he swung or down tn,
street, past some big thoroughfares
then he cut across a mesh of alleys .anl
courts, out into some dingy squares
landing at last in Bloomsbury Square
He walked round till he got TO a tai
narrow house In corner, where h,
pulled up. pushed open the door, which
was ajar, and went upstairs to tn,
/ fifth story where he found door viii
Mr.. Brydon" painted on 1t in biz
letters. He opened 1t, and walked In.
A big fair boy with a cigarette 1,
his mouth was sitting before an easel
touching mp background; he spoke
In soft tired voice without turning
an inch of himself.
Excuse me, Garry, can't possibly
stand up. am wrestling with a cur
tain. Kindly sit down and begin your
| apologies. Was mas 'neuralgy' bad
or the baby? Was 1t it? | am moi
quite certain as to the sex of the last
BY the way don't they come with I'M
due speed, those babies, or do you
| spread all the diseases out on one?--
/ Or did pa go for you and render your
nose unfit for Immortality? Two hours
behind time today, that's nothing to
you In the days of work, no doubt, but
| may remark that it's slightly incon,
vcnient to me, rs l prefer daylight
to dark to catch the super-excellent
tones of your skim
II should have thought on the whole
that the glow"
stranger! he cried with a soft slow
gurgle of intense delight. and lifting
himself clumsily up from his seat, he
caught Strange's hand in close clasp
and pushed him back into an old
frilled armchair.
II thought you were In Algeria. II
was dangerous experiment. old fell
low; the betting was ten to one that
was painting Off model, and am
continually overlooking that lock.
What glorious dusty smooth red
you've got on your cheeks. For good
ness sake, let me have 1t before gas
! and 'sich' play the deuce with It,"
Take 1t, my child, take It. What
pity you didn't have the beard too!
that was far more glorious red, and
a sight dustier, but parted with 1t
this morning.
'Thank you, I've seen your bristles
once; l never wish to behold then,
again. Now smoke, and I'll just have
shy at catching that tint, it's pre-
cisely what | want for this beggar's
cheek. Ny model had it to perfection,
but they clapped him into quad for
prigging sayeloys, and when he comes
out he will be useless, the color OF bad
paste"
"Your rooms hardly serious enough;
it's pretty, in doll's-house STYLE"
Serious. l can't afford that One
can't extract seriousness from rags,
but the colors are good and the cost
small. Look at the drapery hiding the
crack in the wall in that corner four
pence-halfpenny the yard and a reduc-
ton by the piece!
"And you probably went dinnerless
for thatv' thought Strange. watching
the tall heavy looking fellow, with
his straight, limp brown hair hanging
over his forehead in a way that gave
him a queer. foolish look, an effect
that his big alive eyes We're constantly
contradicting.
The soft, sleepy tones of his voice
which, only that they happened to be
peculiarly clear, would never have
been heard at all, added rather to this
effect. Strange, however, was quite
aware that the eyes Of the fellow
spoke the truth, and that the hair and
the soft speech lied.
His father had been curate In the
parish where Strange's father was the
Squire, and even then the big boy had
been good to the little one. and the I'M
equal friendship was still kept up be-
tween the two. II was a pleasant little
corner in the life of the older man,
1t was the best part Of life to the boy,
and no one had notion Of the intense
love and gratitude he bore to the big
notable man who took the troubleato
know him.
Strange had stood by him in the bad
crisis Of his life, when things had come
to head and his father, the curate,
had put down his foot and damned
art permanently, and the boy, for his
part, had comprehensively damned
the church, and had then stepped out
Of the parental porch with a five
pound note In his pocket. and In his
eyes the yearning greed for color
"How are YOU getting onT' said
Strange.
ooh, live, and l hardly owe thing,
which is a consolation, In case / hap
pened to die off in hurry, and had to
be beholden to the governor to fork up.
funeral expenses or he should, ! shall
make no provision for these, they seem
in his line, somehow. But 1t would
cut the old man frightfully II he had
to pay the models or the beer, or any
thing smacking Of the devil, you know
Would you mind turning your face
an inch to the right?"
'what are you at7 Haven't you got
the brick-dust yetr'
Eyes, In way, but want to sketch
-.