Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1894-09-01

though I kept II carefully, for the
woman's face was too wildly i'm
pressed upon my memory. must tell
you that at that time we had an old
man here, named Glover, who used
to clean and dust our rooms anu do
odd things about the place in general.
He was quiet, say little sort Of old
fellow---a man. | should say, who had
evidently seen bit of trouble as
well rs better days. We men used to
talk to him pretty freely, and he al-
ways evinced n deep interest in the
various pictures upon which we were
engaged. But never knew him so in
terested in any canvas as he was in my
Tired OF Life lie was silent about
It, however, and seldom spoke. fused
to surprise him of n morning some-
times when entered my studio for
work. There he would stand before
my easel with wondering gaze, watch-
ing my picture growing, and evidently
wondering what was to come next.
There on the canvas was the river by
night, the lights reflected in the water,
the bridge in the distance, aud some
river craft lying idle by the waters
edge. Just by the parapet stood a
woman In black-a shawl loosely
thrown about her shoulders, her hat
old and shabby her face-'Tired Of
Life
II had not quite completed the
painting on the woman's face, 1t was
not realized yet, but the old man was III
ways looking at it and apparently was
wondering what expression and what
features would eventually be placed
there. All this time had not seen
or heard anything Of the woman who
had suggested the character to me.
1t wanted just month to sending-in
day and l had only another days
work on the face, and / should be
through In capital time. l spent the
whole of this day on the features Of
the woman and Just us it was getting
,usk / surveyed my work with salts.
faction. II could not have been bet
ter, and heartily shook hands with
myself. The following morning when
l entered my studio and opened the
door saw that which made my heart
almost cease to beat. stood holding
the handle OF the door and could not
move, my whole frame was trembling.
The face OF the woman had been cut
out of my picture! In n moment /
had pulled myself together. shouted
out for 'Glover-Glover! but no re-
ply came. / rushed round my fellow
artists rooms. The old man was not
there. neither had he been there that
morning, for their rooms were un.
swept and untidy rs left the pre-.
vious night. The whole truth flashed
across me, Glover was the miscreant
who had ruined and stole my work.
I remembered 1t all then-his interest
in my picture, his anxious waiting,
waiting, waiting for the woman's face
to appear OH the canvas. The
wretched thief and robber,' NUT
tered. And in the midst OF all this
the great question rang through my
ears and haunted my brain-'Who
was this woman that induced this
man to want the picture Of her facet
Search was made for him, but he had
gone none knew where.
1T was o supreme effort, tell you,
but ! did i'll did 1t! had a clenr
month before I should have to send
in my work, and / set to n nd painted
the whole thing again. You remein-
Der what success II was, and think
I may say truly that had / never
painted Tired OF Life should not
be what am to-day.
1T was the day before the opening
OF Rehabilitation. was sitting
thinking quietly In my studio when
l heard rap Mt the door. cried,
Come in The door opened, aud
there stood-thc woman | had seen
on the Embankment! Her face was
still pale, and the lines OF trouble
were not entirely eilaced, but she OPP
peared more composed and contentSd.
She was better dressed too. 1t was
such sudden surprise to me that
practically jumped from my chair.
She was the first to speak.
- oh, SIR" she said, forgive ine
this; ! should have come before.
Tell me, tell me, have you painted
the picture you spoke to mo about
If'you have 1t Is all a mistake; it will
not be true now. 1t might have been,
but you came to me as friend In
need. Tell me, sir, have you painted
! 1t
There was great anxiety In her
voice. ! told her that | had: that 1t
would be exhibited on the morrow.
"She fell down on her knees be.
fore me.
Then, sir, 1t will al be known u
the world ?"
"What p asked.
What was going 10 do. Yes,
was tired Of life-oh, so tired.
thought I should find rest in the
river, and home for my troubles
there. You won't let my face be
seen--you won't let the people know
the truth ?
We'll, ! argued with her quietly
Told her that the world was wide
and in this great seething crowd o
fighting humanity she would not b'
known or recognized.
There Is one who might
though she cried.
"'Who?' ! asked.
"My father.
Her father | seemed to reallk
the whole thing at once. Her fathe
was the man Glover--the man VIII
ruined the work Of many day AM
caused me ceaseless toll and anxiety
Here, then, was the cause OF hi
spelling my picture. He, too, recoa
nized the face on the canvas, and II