Waterbury evening Democrat., 1895-06-22
AN ARTIST.
tooryrishs, 1895, Translated from the French

was % years old, and was "daubing" my way along the coast of Normandy. Bag on back, from village to village, un- der prctext of studying nature, wander ed in care free vagabondage. One travels the road that plcascs him, fancy his only guide, no counselor but his eyes. Hero one is arrcsted by a seductive brook, then by the smell of frying potatoes before tho door of q hotel. Occasionally it is the per fumc of clcmatis, morc often the naive glanccs of village girl.
 In following the cOa$t 1 came to Ire camp. 1 was told of little farm where travellers were lodgr'?---a sort of inn kept by a country woman. They told mo should find it in the middle of poultry yard surrounded hy n double TOW of hrCch trees.
 Leaving the cliffs, I gained the hamlet and presented myself tu Mother LCCachCnS She was an old country woman, wrinklCd and severe, who seemed always to rrcrive customers with aii air of defiance. IL was May. The apple blossoms covered the earth with perfunrtl flowers. l approach cd boldly.
 Well, Mmr LNrachcns havc you a chamber for me-!
 She regarded me sourly. They are all let. Nevertheless you can sec them. "
 In five minutes we had agrr,d, and had put my bag in little room furnished with bed, two chairs, n table and n basin. washed my hands and returned. The old woman was frying chicken for din nrr. l glanced at the table, which was already set.
 "TkCn you have other travclrr> at pres- cntH" She replied discontrntVdly:
 II have ono lndy-an English woman. Shr Is not young. She occupies the other chamber" "
 By paying her cents day extra I se, cured tEc right to cat hy myself In the courtyard. The weather was fine
 My rrpaSt was soon spread before tho door fell to work che, rtu!ly on the friraSSrrd chicken, sumr clear cider and coarse white bread, which was four days old. but excellent.
 All at once the wooden gate, which gave on the road, opened and a strange tigur advanced toward the house.
 She was very thin, very tall and WAS closely wrapped in scotch plaid shawl On either side of her face were gray curls which danced with every step she took. It was my ncighbor, the English Lldy. l stared at her, not that she was handsome She passed m" by quickly with dropped eyes and entered her chamber. l saw her no mon that day. The next, just IS l had SNli ib lttIfAl III tue valley which surrounded the hamlet, l saw her On prrccivinE me she disappear ed That day l took my place, at th, com mon table in order tn make arquaiutaurr with this singular woman. she would not respond to my cnUrtr>i,'s Shv Was insrnsihlr tu all my little attentions. Only by a light m"vcmrnt of the head, an i'm pCrcrpihle murmur. she returned her thanks.
 ceased to occupy myself with her, al though she disturbed my thoughts. At the end of three days l knew all that Mmc Lccachrns knew about her lod-rr.
 She called herself Miss Margaret. She said she had searched for a hidden village in which to pass tho summer. She had been thcrc six weeks and did not seem dis posed to leave She never spoke at table ate quickly and was always r,vling lii tie book. Mother LrcarhrnS believed sho was distributing that little book over the entire world. The cure himself had rrcciv- cd four of them. delivered hy a hny. who demanded cents for his trouble. In the village she was called an atheist The cure called her n hCrCtiC, but admitted her perfect morality. Some boldly asserted that she WAS rich, but had been discarded by her family for some unknown ryvlSnn. Shc had passed her life travrling-aim- leSSly, rCstlCSSly.
 Mime LecachcnS called her drmoniac She had brought n toad into the house whose foot had been bruised and poulIicrd its wounds as if ii had been human. In rare moments of excitement s!lc had been heard to say that mature Was tod. " She was seeking and adurinE Gnd in na- turn. Of course she was q dcnnniac
 One day l brought home a small lirturr. bit of sky, bit uf water. some trees, some clouds I met her in the doorway. l extended it. 'SCc, madrmoisrllr, my last study"
 She gczcd at it with rapt eyes. her long arms folded OI Vr her hv.iNin- hn-nlu. Then her eyes r'>t,d on me She Ci.u. Int her breath c,~tatically. "Ah, but ynu un- derStand naturC. It palpitatrS. How loNu naturr! God has Eiit"d yuu." l hlushvd as if a queen had paid me compliment.
 After that whenever l went tnltliut this strange EnElisl. woman went with me. She would sit motionlCss for hours cl,~" by my side sometimes l would intercept her glances passing from my canvas to myself.
 At such moments WIG would both blush culpably, and she, rising swiftly. would fit away like shadow.
 The spring had dc,'poHcd into sunlmvr. l was wcarying of the farmhouse, of the dull little hamlet of myself And yet l lingercd. One morning, with Miss Mar garct sitting mute by my side, IannOunccCl with brutal dircctness my intention la leave the next morning.
 She gave faint gasp and then fitted away under tho beech trccS. Dissatisfied with myself and my mornings work, I throw down tho brush and went for a tramp-a long one. I got back to the farmhouse to find lights in he kitchen and in the little parlor. Elsewhere all was dark. Mime. Lccachcns confronted me savagely:
 And where is Miss Margaret?'' I stared at hcr affrightcd. She main tainod that was the last one who had seen her lodger. This was true. We searched the English woman's room and found a note addrcSs.d to myself. No one but the good God, myself and its writer | shall ever know what it contained. It made mo a rich man. She who adorcd God in nature decrccd that should preach nature's- evangel with my God given gift" Living she claimed sho would have hampercd me-dying she could benefit me And all the accumulated affection oi that starved soul had been poured out on my unworthy self, unasked, undcsiredI And then we searched tho still, cool pond in the forest, whorc had seen hcI | stand in rapt silence so often. It was therC she had found the wounded toad. It was thero we found her, cold and still, with a tuft of wet moss entanglcd in her curls. It was who laid the snowdrops in heI hands the next morning before, with my bag on my back, left tho little hamlet or the coast of Normandy.