The St. Johns herald., 1896-12-26
The Clown and the Missionary.
By VIOLA ROsEBoRO.

That's all knocked on now, salu Teddy Catty, and he explained lamely and naively how people wanted Thigh art' nowadays, and how consequently his fathers old firm had gone out of business. His father had been with it 40 years, and ''he died pretty soon after he lost his place. !"
 The mother had sbeen a ballet gir! before she married, and she had num- bers of relatives in various branches of the "show business. y The children, four of them, were all put on the stage in pantomimes and such things when they were little. Of the family there were now left only the one brother and sister
 No, Emmy was not on the stage, ''not in no way" Though his accent was so good, the little clowns gram mar was not upon dull level of cor rectness. Emmy never exactly liked l the stage, her mother never exactly wanted her to go on it, 7" and just when they did not know what she should do she solved the problem the old way and married-narried scene painter at the Lyceum theater.
 'You may know by that that he's good one. He was only in small posi- tion when Emmy married him, but he's one of the head ones now. Then, you know, he knew some real artist paint CTS, and Emmy-she didn't have any children, and she thought she'd like to learn to paint pictures, and she did Her husbands awful proud of her. |"
 It was the fifth day out when, after much narrative that, as is the way of talk, did not advance the story, we reached this point.
 We were again on deck, and Amy and were lying in our chairs gazing over tossing dark sea at a red sunset, while Teddy Catty sat facing us.
 ''You wouldn't think Emmy was my sister," he said. "She's like another kind. She's beauty, and she's just like swell, nice swell, in her ways, and then she's good. My, she's good"
 ''Is she religious?'' I ventured.
 'Now, you know-yes-but then it's hard to say exactly what different peo- pie mean," and the boy gave himself up with grave pleasure to the serious business of accurately informing us as to Emmy's spiritual life "She is as re- ligious as she can be one way" he went on, "and then the other she only goes as far as she can without feeling as if she was throwing over the rest of us. Her husband he thinks religious people ain't his kind, and of course I'm nowhere with lem, and Emmy can't make herself up to contract with them that despises us. You wouldn't believe what she thinks of me, you wouldn't indeed. So she just goes without reli zion except what she can get reading the Bible and''-half hesitating and softening his tone-"and praying. She says she believes we can be good that way. She wants me to try. She is good, good. wish, though, she could bo with real religious people, some kind. Our grandmother, one of lem, was a great chapel goer. She was an independent. think Emmy would be happier that way"
 He turned his face toward the angry gloom of the sea and the fading western sky, and we were all silent. What a comforting glimpse of human nature!
 Presently Amy said, with an odd lit tie accession of formal courtesy in her tone: 1T hope, MT. Catty, you have a picture of yosr sister that you can show Jus. should like to know how she looks.
 Yes, he had her picture in his state room. He wanted us to see it..
 The limitless night was darkening around us in momentary pulsations. We left the wild, soul searching scene for the petty, pretty glare of the cabin. While We were drinking our tea Teddy Caddy brought us the photograph.
 It seems ont of harmony now with the fieshly reaction from the infinite things of the spirit that had just come upon us, We had to give our poor flag ging souls tug to make them respond to the unconscious awe that looked, Madonnalike, upon us. You never saw little child's face more deeply, simply serious
 The next day I took the picture to show to the missionary. He smiled be- nevolently as told of the quaint broth CT and sister, but being a missionary and not an artist and seeing nothing to do for them his mind inclined to wan der. Yet once or twice afterward as he walked the deck with one of his small children by the hand-he always had one with him when he did not have two-he tried to join in our conversa- tion with Teddy Catty, but when he saw the little fellow draw back over- awed he readily enough, with shade of relief perhaps, abandoned the gentle attack.
 This trio was not often in session, so to say, for Teddy Catty was very mod est and was scrupulously careful not to intrude upon us, but he was sure to be within beckoning distance whenever Amy was sketching. The sight exercis- ed an absurd fascination upon him.
 It was easy to see that he regarded me as of an altogether inferior race of beings as compared to Amy. With me he could talk on occasion, but to her he could scarcely more than speak when he was spoken to. This dumb shyness, to- gether with his professional position, puzzled Amy.
 'Do you suppose, said she, ''that he is anything of clown, that honest lit tie owl?''
 In truth, there seemed nothing clown like about Teddy Catty except the