Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1896-10-15
THE SLEEP OF MARY.


Paul's father had been portrait
painter, who dreamed much but accom-
plished little, and dying from sheer dis
taste of life, had left his little son his
paint brushes, his unfinished canvases
and his unrealized ambitions 4 rela-
tive wished to put Paul to trade, but a
friend of his fathers saw in the lanky,
long -haird boy a possible art student
and packed him off to Paris, to live in the
Latin quarter and learn to work.
Paul soon did better than his father in
his pamest days. The boy could achieve
as well as dream, and the head of Il
lGrisette-a girl he thought he loved
found its way into the salon. Paul
woke up from his love dream when
,Susanne transferred her affections to
student who could afford to give her
champagne suppcrs. Then he remem7
bered that he had always loved child
across seas, on a Lcng Island farm; a
slip of girl whom he had known three
weeks and adored in a boyiSh fashion.
Susaune could go-all Paris could GO
aud, indeed, it did shortly after. Paul's
patron died, leaving him nothing. The
man of 25 set sail for New York, own.
ing some pictures more or less good.
lie found New York marked with the
changes of ten years. lie was homesick
lie was lonely. He thought of the little
girl on the Long Island farm. She must
be 22- married, perhaps-and singing
lulabies to a baby. Would she remem-
ber him? At least he could find out,
On the train he thought still more
about her-uot an ordinary farmers
Gaughter-oh, no! Her father had beer
both q scholar and d man of the world
who had wrecked his life somehow
Paul didn't remember how-and had
hidden himself on a lonely coast farm
His daughter Mary, at IA, could speal
French and read Greek; but she looked
like wild rose and she had never
seen New York. A smattcring of mem
ories filed Paul's brain. They had
played together, while their fathers haG
talked in the shade of the apple tree. He
had told her that he was an artist, anC
tnat he would paint her picture, only ht
couldn't make it beautiful enough. h,
knew. They had taken hands anC
rushed to the beach together, and looked
over the ocean to Paris, and wished they
were there. A brief fortnight or so, bu'
the child's face beamed on him still, ant
his love grew all the more swiftly be.
cause he was lonely and wanted to find
her again. lie did find her, woman as
lone y as himself. She was in black 70,
her father, She was soon to leave the
farm to go to relatives in he west. Pau
told her of his Paris life and studied he,
face as he spoke. The color came anG
went i'm her oval cheeks, as when sh,
was child. The deep blue eyes had los
their mrth, and the curves of the moutl
held sadness, but Paul forgot the child
and loved the woman.
In the autumn they were married
and went TO live in New York. Mar,
did not know New York, although hei
home had always been within hun.
dred miles of it. She was unhappy un-
I'll they found three little rooms on
West Twelfth street-one with north
light for Paul-and had settled down
to housekeeping. There was only
chair apiece, but the walls were bidder
with books, and one beautiful pictur,
gIowed above the fireplace. 1t was =
copy of a famous Madonna and child
which had been given to Paul in Paris
in lieu of a long-oWed debt. It's mas
sive gold frame seemed TO concentrate
all the Fight in the room. Paul pinne,
up some stray sketches made by friend
in Paris, and. i'm moment of eNtrava
gance. bought some big palms and al
antique llrunze lamp which swung be
al FIrl