St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1895-08-15
SOMEWHAT ROMANTIC.
Story of a Painting That -Graces
the Studio of a San Francisco
Artist,


San Francisco Chronicle
Directly over the fireplace in Nathan
Landsberger's studio on McAllister
street hangs an oil painting of him
self. 1t has every semblance of being
the work Of a master. The brush that
painted Mr.. Landsberger's coal-black
curls was not that of a ship-painter,
and the hand that formed the lines and
curves of his Stradivarian counten-
ance was not used to painting letters
on the side of a fence. The manner in
which Mr.. Landsberger came into
possession of this painting brings to
light romance which almost rivals
the one Of Fra Diavolo. Mr.. Lands
berger bought it from pawnbroker,
an ancient Shylock, who keeps dingy
resort ON Third street, where actors,
prizefighters, barkeepers and others
must go some day to raise the where
Wllhai Tor the neceSSarieS of life. But
the person who carried Mr.. Lands
berger In oils to the Third street pawn
snop was not a man, but as charming
a Spanish girl as ever breathed in this
dull sphere.
One day she was present at a ScheeI
concert In the Auditorium when that
pace was In blaze of glory, and she
heard Mr.. Landsberger play. She had
never seen him before, but when he
came down to the footlights and drew
ms DOW sudden light spTang into her
eyes. She glanced at the programme
and saw that the piece was one of
Gounod'S, but to her it didn't matter
which, for her eyes fell back to the
little man who stood ready to draw
the hrst note. When he began to play
she knew her heart was going. She
sat as one in d dream and felt that in
the player her heart had found its
mate. SO she straightway fell in love
with MI. Landsberger, and every time
ne was Programmed to play she ap-
Pedreu at the theater and sat until the
last note had died away and the an
dlence had tried to win him back with
eiicores. She felt that if he could only
see her and gaze ON her dark Southern
beauty he might be hers
She dared not risk spelling her ro-
lance py m1ngling with it anything
tnaI would border on reality, so if she
o oonsd,, not ct possess Mr.. Landsberger in
oils SO that he would live on f,a. wall II
as We'll as in her heart Day after dav
she looked at the pictures that adorn
Ine snow windows of photograph gal
one sunny afternoon she esp:ed the
Photo OF her hearts own nesting in
the bosom of a glass case on Market
street, and she resolved to own it at
If the recording angel is not a had
man, he will forgive a love-lorn Span
lSh maiden for telling one little white
lie, and Will probably overlook the one
mat ina, nltted from this young lady's fair,
1ull lips when she told the man who
owned the photograph gallery that she
was Mr.; Landsberger's sister in order
to get the picture.
Then she was living at hotel on
Montgomery street and had come from
south America. She had plenty of
money, and was willing to spend it un-
IL she found that she could become a
typewriter, or an accountant, or hold
a place in little candy store If the
worst came to the worst
So she went to a man who lives in q
little howell on Montgomery avenue, and
made a contract with him to paint the
classic face of Mr.. Landsberger for
$500. She had it hung in her room right
opposite her bed. 1t was one treasure
of her life. and she prayed that it
never would be taken from her.
But prayers are not bread and meat.
and oil paintings are not lingerie, and
one day, when the last dime of her
jaws of poverty's wolf were swapping
at her door, she took the picture from
the peg where it had hung so long
and kissed it a sad good-by. 1t was the
only thing she had to save her from
utter ruin. Watch and jewelry were
gone; there were too many account
ants in town, and too many typeWrit-
ers, and all the little candy stores were
ready to fail. She could not starve, so
she wrapped Mr. Landsberger in a
piece of brown paper and carried him
to the pawn shop. where he was left
for the consideration of a dollar and
six bits.
That is the story the girl told the
broker, and that is the story the broker
told Mr.. Landsberger, when, several
days ago, he saw his own countenance
beaming on the urchins of Third street,
and he purchased it for So.