St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1895-01-12
A HERO, IN CLAY.
Why Bob Rann,ster Destroyed His
Best Bit of Work.

Why Bob Rann;ster Destroyed His
Best Bit Of Work.
It was the luckiest hit old Bannister
had ever made. How he did il nobody
knew. He didn't even know himself.
''The thing seemed to grow under
my hands," he would say, quietly,
''and / had no idea that it was any
thing better than my usual work, until
had finished it and came to look at Il
as whole, then"
There was no doubt about it, he had
never before done anything to equal
It 1t was rather a large statuette of
an ancient warrior, delicately mod
cleo in clay-a slender. sinewy look
ing figure. the head thrown gracefully
back, oae foot slightly advanced, q
short sword clasped in the uplifted
right hand and round shield poised
firmly before his breast.
There YVES a subtle ease, . quiet
grace in the carriage and attitude, q
keen, calm eagerness expressed In the
fine features of the figure, that none
but q man of genius would have &C
complished. And, yet, cid Bob Ban
mister had no genius-not. . bit. All
his friends knew that, and Nhe freely
acknowledged it himself.
Bob's chief ambition was to. be Q
great sculptor-to do some great work
that should bring him wealth for the
present and fame for all time. But,
by degrees he narrowed his ambition
down until he came to look for moth
ing from art but the means Of living
in reasonable comfort from day to
day.
Bob's particular crony and brother.
IN art, Alfred Maiden, was . man some
Eve years older than himself. The
two men had met rather more than
twenty years before, and had been
the closest of friends ever since. They
rented small studio between them
on the highest door of = tall building
in the vicinity of Oxford street. They
had even shared the same apartments
together in q respectable boarding
house in Mecklenburg square, until
Maiden was married and became the
owner OF small residence 1t Pad
dington.
It was past nine o'clock 1T night, aud
the two men sat by the flreside Of their
studio. smoking . last pipe apiece be-
fore going home. Grouped about them
In grotesque confusion were numerous
half-finished and finished clay models,
busts of all manner Of real and ideal
men and women. and all the miscel-
laneous litter OF q sculptor's work
room; on the walls hung medallions
aud base reliefs of all shapes and sizes.
crayon sketches and . number Of pic
lures in oils and water colors. But
the most conspicuous object Of all
standing on an imposing pedestal In the
center of the room-wss Bob's latest
work, his masterpiece, his Hero" in
clay.
Certainly" said Bob, regarding his
work complacently, and speak ing with
a slow, meditative drawl. between
dreamy whiffs at his pipe, ''it's the
only thing I've ever done tha feel
tempted to be proud Of, and. ~ you
say, goodness only knows how man
aged to do 1t SO well. But there it il.
I've done it. and really do think I'm
entitled to be little proud Of 1t. eh?"
"Of course" responded Maiden
moodily; especially when you con-
slider that a rumor of it has caused .
real live marquis to come up and look
at it, and to b. 20 taken with it - to
say he will gn buy it."
"Now. Az, Aft" cried Bannister.
playfully.
"Factr' said Maiden, shortly. mo
man gives money for thing unless he
thinks it's worth his money"
"Well, of course, I'm pleased to have
q purchaser in prospect. Anyone
would be-"
Undoubtedly" grumbled Maiden;
but it isn't anyone who Is lucky
enough to get purchaser who may be
the means of introducing him to m
aristocatic connection"
Bannister looked thoughtfully into
the fire and said nothing.
II never saw such q thing" Maiden
went on. little bitterly. "You have
all the luck. l can't understand it.
people seem to think that my work 10
better than yours as . general thing,
yet you always sell easier than do
and get higher prices. It's luck. Sheer
luck."
"It's luck-' repeated Bannistsr,
thoughtfully. Il know It. my boy.
and can't understand it, either. You
are a better workman than I am.
more Industrious, more Well, it does
seem hard! Why, your Dying Gladi-
utor' beat my Hero into fits. and yet
you only sold it for mere tribe to
dealer, and heard no more oft And
here"
Here" continued Maiden. seeing
that his friend hesitated, ..your Hero
will be exhibited. Oh. it'll be &C.
cepted right enough! Directly it's
finished, even. . blessed marquis turns
up who Is ready and willing to pay
you handsomely for it, and 1t will be
seen by hundreds of snobs and nobs
Of high degree, and If 1t isn't the
means of bringing in shoals OF orders,
never trust my word again."
'Well, it does seem little hard on
you, Alf, old man"
''Oh, well, you needn't keep on crow.
ang over a fellow. interrupted NAL
den, testify.
"Why," said Bob. looking grievous-
" shocked. II was never dreaming of
doing such thing. Iwas only going
70 say may be able to find opportuni-
ties OF introducing you to people who
will recognize your worth, and"
'Ha. ha!'' laughed Maiden. dismally.
"It's very good Of you to say 30 now.
but Bob Bannister, Esquire, sculptor
In ordinary to his high mightiness, the
most noble marquis Of Finchington,
basking in the patronage OF other
moneyed and titled gentry, will be
much too great person to remember
poor, luckless, threadbare ALI Nal
den"
Afr cried Bannister. earnestly,
ssyuu can't think I'm such . mean
hrr,h,,c mn Nhafi II am ouly to be