Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-01-02
A BAG OF LETTERS.

A DflghC nre was burning III the
studio Of Jack Torrington, the cele-
brated newspaper artist, and everything
indicated that he knew thoroughly how
to appreciate those comforts to which
he had only lately become entitled, for
only about month before Jack, like
Lord Byron, "awoke one morning to
find himself famous.
He had had long and bitter strug-
gle with adverse fortune For more than
ten years he had toiled untiringly, re.
warded only with poverty, starvation
and neglect. He had lived and worked
in garnet, carrying his drawings from
editor to editor-always on foot, for he
could not afford to pay omnibus fare
only to be told that they had not enough
work to give to their own staff. But
now at last fate had smiled upon him
all enterprising art editor had "discov-
cred" him--and he had become the fash
ion.
He was seated at his ease before the
fire slipping his coffee. He had already
looked over the daily paper and thrown
it aside. A large pile Of letters lay on
the table beside him, but he had not
opened any Of them, probably because
he knew beforehand what their con-
tents were likely to be. When he had
completed his meditations on the morn
ing's news, however, he took one up
and opened it. TWAS from the editor of
one of the leading ladies' weeklies, The
Glass of Fashion, and it ran thus:
"Dear Mr.. Torrington-We have been
much gratifed "Oh, hang the COM
pliments, exclaimed Jack, and he
hung them-that is to say, he skipped
them. "Would you," the editor contin-
ued, "have time to undertake one or
two full page drawings for our summer
number? The subject would be entirely
your own choice, but Of course it
would be something appropriate to the
season. You can name your own price. F"
"Oh, most likely said Jack, and
he threw the letter into the fire. This
was the editor who had written to him
only two years before, "As you do not
excel at this kind of-work, fear it will
not be possible for us to employ you. F"
This letter was followed by about doz-
Ell more from other editors in very much
the same terms
The next letter that Jack picked up
was directed in a graceful feminine
hand. There was dainty perfume
about it, and there was crest Oh the
envelope.
"Who the devil can this be-" thought
Jack. He opened it.
''Dear Sir" it began, "Surely can
not be wrong in supposing you are the
same Mr.. Torrington who was sketch.
ing down here year ago.
Lets see what the name is--Anna
Delacy Thorne. Oh, by Jove, know.
It's that woman down in Shropshire
who used to come and bother me to
show her my sketches, and who used to
tell me how happy l was to be able to
do such charming work, and who never
once asked me into her house to have
cup of tea. Well, what more?'
Those delightful pen and ink
sketches. Oh, bother. Everybody
knew that you would be famous some
day. My husband saw your portrait in
one Of the papers, and he says he is
quite sure it is you, etc. Is there any
chance Of your coming down this way
next summer? We should be SO glad to
see you, and. I should find you plenty
of models. Thanks, I can do that for
myself. Have you the sketch still
which I admired SO much Of two girls
standing on the bridge and would it be
very expensive?'
''Yes, madam, it would be expensive,
but you could have had it last year for
3 shillings. This letter also was toss
ed into the fire.
The next was directed in an untidy
scrawl, with many smudges and ortho-
graphical mistakes. It ran thus:
onnerd sur wos SO gled to here Of yur susces
and so wos mother ime suryu diservd 1t If
emmy won did for yu hev worked so long for
nuthin and had SO much trubble hop yu air
very we'll shud be SO gled II w cud Civ me
Sulu WOTAo AuotAoI uco uou AL ailu ACeAof 40
out Of worke and hev had nuthing to do
for months and prises air so hi just now
we air leving now at number 10 sidney street.
yur obedunt servent, SoPHEY MATHEWS.
Poor little thing!'' said Jack to
himself, "She had rather good shout.
ders. must see If ! can find anything
for her to do. !"
The next letter was from fellow
student of his who had been rather sue
cessful as portrait painter, but Of
whom Jack had seen nothing since their
student days, except now and then
when they had met by accident;
DEAR JAcK-I really must congratulate you
on your unprecedented success. Everybody is
asking me about you. feel quite proud of
having been your fellow student But always
knew that you were going to do great things.
Why, never saw any one get along as you
did. You simply galloped, while other fellows
crawled. You were certain to make your mark
sooner or later. wish you would come round
and criticise the portrait which am painting
Of Mrs. Bolton, the celebrated beauty. 1T is
nearly finished, and should 60 like to see
what you would think Of II. / am sat home"
Thursday afternoons.
1.-THE devil you arel So am t. said
Jack.
The next letter that he took up was
directed In hand the sight Of which