The Washington times., 1894-11-05
TO Pass th6 7Tin8.
TRANSLATED BY ANNA L. WANGEMAN.l

ries me across the ocean into the harbor of
ordinary daily routine. Would you believe
it? / have been here fully four weeks, yield
ing to the sweet dolce far niente and breath
ing the sea air. All. such airl Sharp, fresh,
and spicy that it Is, it infuses new life into us
and at the same time new thought, new am
bition, new vigor. The lethargy which at
home fetters hand and genius lled as soon as
l step on this distant. wave-bordered island
And for all that thanks to you, wisest of all
apostles of Esculapius, who took the brush
from my hand by main force on that July day
'Do you remember? But you did not sus-
pect that canvas and palette secretly accom-
panied me, and, still less, that my sketch for
the motif intended for the expedition is al
most finished. | say almost and for that
reason cannot make this, my first and last
episIe, very long. Only in order to satisfy
your curiosity in regard to my model l will
tell you that this time 1t Is not the belle OF
| the season. but a plain flsherman'S child.
''Do you remember little Karin, who years
ago helped us gather shells? You laughed
once when | prophesied that the little one
would some day be a beauty. When you see
my picture you will laugh no more. We ar
/ fists see with different eyes. She might not
even be called pretty If one criticised accord
ing to the rules of beauty, but thcro is some
thing about her like the dew on wild flowers,
something rntangible-what muse might
4 have dreamed but never thought OF finding.
| l have something of a presentment that this
| picture will meet with success. God bless
| you. Yours, WERNER KARsTEN."
The man put down his pen and stepped to
| the low window. The sea, apparently ruffied
| oplv at the strand, dotted with white dancing
| ba ms Of ha
! is a mangihcent spectacle. fascinating and al
Turing 10 the eye Of an artist, but the man at
| the window of the flshermans cottage hardly
/ notices the flaming horizon. His keen blue
/ eve glances 10 the side where girl in the
! common costume of Heligoland is busy
spreading molstened linen on the small grass
| plot Her movements are peculiarly grace
! ful, as she stops her work, and shields her
ewes with her right hand. She is of little more
! than medium height and 1.-THE of growth, but
the arm which she raises displays charming
curves
"Karin!"
She turns her dark head slowly toward the
| window.
Have you moments time for me, Karin?''
She Is at the window at once, and knots
the red cloth over her hair.
do you want ID go the dunes once more,
Mr.. Karsten?"
Not that It is just one more stroke of the
/ brush that l am after. III trouble you to-
/ day for the last timel" and retreating from
/ the window he does not notice how suddenly
/ the smile about her lips vanishes.
Karin!-She is the prettiest girl on the
| island and the richest at that, And all the
/ flaxen-haired youths court her favor, openly
or secretly, and for each one she has the same
! mischievoLs smile, the same quick fash of
! her narrow cut eyes. Not one of them may
pride himself on any especial mark of favor,
/ 4 he opJx-
answer-a laugh as clear, as mocking, as only
Karin can laugh.
! She has no one to accompany her after work
| is over TO the dunes nor does her heart beat
J faster when ship is sighted in the far east.
7 She may stand high up on the dixie, like the
| others, at the approach of a Storm and pray
/ for the safe return of those out at sea; but
( she does not do it with the same passion, or
with as much ardor as, for example, blonde
! Katie, who is secretly engaged to long Claas.
Wien the other girls adorn themselves to
/ 90 10 the dance, Karin is seldom among
| them She would much rather lie in the
white sand on the dunes, and dream.
Above her float the white, gold-bordered
! clouds. and before her the sea glistens, green,
/ smooth. unbounded. II is still round about
/ save for the continuous coming and going Of
/ the waves which beat against the moist sand.
| Only now and then a breeze brings over q
/ few stray snatches of the dance music. At
/ such moments Karin rises suddenly. and
/ with an angry sigh presses her hands to her
/ heart. And in her quivers something like a
! longing for the one who captures her obsti-
4 nate heart. and for whom she has been wait
| ing so long.
! II was late in fall. Clear, warm Septem-
! ber days, alluring as the summer but with
! out being oppressively warm.
! And Werner Karsten came at this time. He
| lived in the good" room which Karin always
] L g. a
| the low windows Of which afforded so fine a
view The red carnations in her garden had
never bloomed so beautifully and she herself
had never been SO pretty as this year. Wer-
/ ner Karsten found no time now TO be bored
''wholesale"-he worked. The genuine en-
thusiasm Of an artist had come over HIM when
he saw Karin again. What had three years
accomplished? He never tired of studying
her every movement, her fine head with the
| heavy coil of hair at the neck the chidlike
| face And he made one sketch after another
| until he finally found what had seemed so
mysterious. And, in truth, even the hasty
sketch gave promise of a masterpiece, the
tones of color had been taken so faithfully
| from nature.
Water and sand, and this alone only for
the spare reedgrass that had sprouted here
and there out of the sandy soil, gray,
! threatening sky, the light forms OF few sea-
! gulls, apparently touching the dark waters in
their flight and girlish figure whose profile is
| turned toward thes spectator. The approaching
! storm plays with ergarments and makes them
! cleaye to the 1.-THE form. It pulls out the locks
| from under the red kerchief around her head,
/ tossing them about; she does not seem to no.
! tice this Pressing her hands TO her temples.
/ she looks out over the dancing wave crests
/ with q wistful gaze.
'Thank you, Karin!'
Drawing deep breath, the artist lays aside
his brush and palette, and steps back.
And across her lips, too, comes a deep
! sigh as she approaches to gaze at his sketch
| in silence.
Yes look at yourself, Karin The mirror
| in your room would be more apt to deceive
you than this picture"
smile of satisfaction fits over his interest
( ing face and effaces the blase expression
usually so prominent. He towers above her
4 considerably and she Is obliged to glance up
at him as he continues:
"You are silent, Karin. Standing so long
has tired you out, poor child
His words are those of well-meaning pro-
tector to a child, but the eyes, dark and bril-
/ liant, which gaze deeply into hers, speak diff
ferently-a silent. wonderful language And
/ she seems to feel chill and drops her head.
The sun has set 1t is dusky aud close in
the little room. The strains of q Strauss ceu-
/ cert waited up from the beach, and softly
| and tenderly, like the melodies her name
comes over his lips. Perhaps he has no idea
OF the charm that lies in the calling of her
Dame as he, taking hold of her hand, bends
/ over her.
''Will you think of me sometimes, Karin?"
In her large, tear-hlled eyes ne read the
answer and a great deal more. And he knows
at this moment that this girls heart, with all
the passion of awakened love, belongs to
him; he knows it and begins that cruel yet
sweet game which never loses its charm.
Il gave you that pretty pin Yesterday; |