San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1897-03-11
ARTISTS SUPPLY OF FIREWOOD.
How Medal Managed to Keep Warm
without Cash or Credit.


What so sorely puzzled the rest of
the Bohemians was how and where
Oscar McDab, landscape artist, got his
inexhaustible supply of firewood. They
knew he was not even keeping a shirt
this winter and that the McDab overcoat
was hopelessly in pawn. Nor did he have
credit; and yet, the atelier beamed with
light and warmth that chilly Monday
evening.
Plump, round logs of equal length
blazed merrily in the open fireplace,
Furnishing the brass dogs with the
CLEAN of gold and casting weird shad-
ows among the fish nets and Chinese
helmets festooned about the walls Of
the studio. In fact, the cheerful hearth
did its work so well that in the wild
burst of economy Oscar NcDad arose
and extinguished a candle Pickering
dimly in the hollow of a human skull
suspended from the ceiling by copper
chains of ancient Baxter street lineage.
The three visiting Bohemians shivered
and drew closer to the grateful glow, as
the wintry blasts shrieked and clawed
at the easements. At last Oscar Nc
Dab spoke, in dreamy accents:
'Ill go for another can if you fellows
will dig up the price"
After considerable excavating the
price-ten cents, mostly inpennies-was
exhumed, and the genial host departed
with his tin pail disguised in a paper
bag.
"Stab me if I see how he does it," said
pale, trapped artist who drew SPLEEN
did horses, but no salary to speak Of.
81 can't keep my oil stove going half the
time"
"Does what?" the other two asked.
"Look!" said the horse artist, step
ping to one corner of the atelier and
drawing aside the rich burlap tapestry
with Japanese storks painted on it.
"Look!"
With bullying eyeballs the Bohemians
beheld at least half a cord of wood,
more than either of the trio had ever
seen, even in the magic embrace of an
opium dream. There the fuel lay in all
its gorgeous reality-big sticks and lit
tie sticks of hemlock, hickory, spruce,
beech, oak and elm, for the Bohemians
could distinguish the variety by the
bark.
where he gets it beats me-" whis-
pered the horse artist, too much awed to
Intentionally spring a joke, but you
can see for yourselves that McDab has
fuel to burn"
At that moment the affiuent McDab
returned with the can. TWAS the third
time that evening the duck had been
bounded to its lair, and under the loosen
ing influence of the beer Oscar reckless
" threw ON some more wood.
Sunday comes every seven days" he
chuckled, $50 what do care for ex-
penses."
do you steal your wood on the Sab
bath, Oscar?" the horse artist asked, as
q horrible suspicion smote him.
"Steal nothing" said the provident
McDab, taking up hemlock log in one
hand and knife in the other.
"See this?"
With that he made one slash. The
swapping of Irvine drawn taut was
heard and the painted bark fell away,
disclosing the family features of Sun
day newspaper rolled up in all its
bulky magnifcence.
CT don't steal wood" said Oscar Nc
Dab, complacently, while his friends
sat in dumb admiration, "but I do pick
up Sunday papers here and there in the
early morning hours, besides going to
all the publication offices and telling
the clerks that the carrier forgot to
deliver my copy. They make excellent
fuel" he added, though some of the
joke pages are awful, especially when
the wind blows down the chimney
n. Y. Journal.