St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1894-08-11

O0e no one else live0 IN the pufl0lnX
I'VE were there quite alone. forget
exactly where it was. but il was out
| side the city, on the edge of the Cam
pagna. We had . small room where
he painted, with part of it divided by
. curtain where we slept. At the foot
Of the short stone stair leading up to
this apartment from the outer door.
another stone stair led down to . sort
Of vault or crypt, lighted up by .
barred window. At the end OF this
were the remains of . little shrine,
| with a dilapidated figure of the vir-
gin. and on one side, against the wall.
. stone bench. 1t was what he called
| a picturesque bit, and he made study
| Of it.
About this time-it was Christmas
"A notorious brigand chief had been
captured, and was brought to Rome,
secured hand and foot, amidst tremen-
dous excitement. 1t gave my husband
an idea for . subject: The Wounded
Brigand in Hiding He depicted the
man lying with head bound up. ETC.,
in this crypt, with the wife kneeling
before the shrine with up-stretched
arms and clasped hands in the attitude
of duplication. The background was
all there to his hand without stirring
out Of doors, and /, of course, had to
sit or kneel as the praying wife. With
out exception it was the most trying,
firing attitude I had ever assumed.
NV knees and back lost all sensation,
and the uplifted arms simply seemed to
60 dead after half an hour. Why
didn't l rest? you will ask. Be-
cause daren't till he gave me leave.
The crosses Of our fortunes had turned
him into a regular savage. and he was
at his worst while painting this pic
ture. For hours he kept me kneeling
there day after day. Once grew
faint, but luckily just then he said:
You can rest SO he didn't know it.
Another time when my hands and arms
were all pins and needles, pleaded
for a pause. He refused it. went
on. Then couldn't help saying .
little. He swore at me. steadied
myself. At last. without any warning
or will of mine, my arms dropped on
my lap, and fell forward, my chin on
the altar. With a big oath he rose
furious.
you've ruined my work, you
devilr he cried, Just at a most critical
point, when l was finishing your left
hand. Up again instantly or Ill be
the death of you.' and he roughly
placed me in the old attitude.
Ten minutes later the same thing
happened. Icouldn't help it Again
he rose. and this time he struck me
violently across the back and shoulders
with his mahl stick, which was no
thicker than his finger. This was the
first time he over struck me-badly as
he'd behaved. and it was the last. l
never loved him after that. No. kind
heaven never gave me the chance. for
after the blow did faint, and when l
recovered was lying where fell. He
had not even lifted me from the
ground. No. but he had stretched
himself at full length upon the stone
bench, and was sound asleep.
Escape was my first thought-re-
venge the secondhand rs stood up.
the second overwhelmed the first.
Noiselessly crept to where lay, amidst
u0uy SSuuiO PAoPC1SACS' NAC OAAk ohu .
poignard. Often had dreamt of this.
and had seen it glitter in my hand. but
in the dreams opportunity was want
ing. Now. both were realities. I would
use them mercilessly. Night was COM
ing on. Icould escape under its cover.
Whittier to fly, or how to live after
wards, j gave these things no thought
rs 4 stoDd with the weapon raised
kbove his naked throat. Did lack
courage. No. sincerely no. What, then.
made he. suddenly pause and listen?
4. 9otsfepse. Yes, faint and distant on
'the road. running near our abode.
Alone. they YQnld not have deferred
me, but aPo3e them rose upon the still
ness chapt-ta chant from some re-
ligious procession, pilgrims probably.
passing towardR the city to do homage
at the shrine Of the Holy Bambino in