The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1898-01-23
TEE JOYOUS COMRADB.
BY 1. ZANGwILL.
Author of "chrldren of the Ghetto" IAN Odd
Life" &c.
Copyright. 1897, by S. s. Mcclure Co.

OF tho rapt artist NJ DeinR interrupted by any
thing but praise was in, the outburst.
Holy Moscsi' I gaspcd. "Givo n man n
chance to get his breath. fall through n dark
anto-chamber. over a bicycle, stumble round q
screen, md smack q glaro OF Oriental sunlight
from a gigantic canvas. tho vibration and glow
OF n group OF joyous figures rocking with lifc
ard sweat 4 = you tho idcnlist, tho seeker
after natures beautiful moods and arts beauti.
full pnttcrnsl'
Beautiful moods!" he echoed angrily. "And
why isn't this a beautiful moodi And what
moro beautiful pattern than this-lcok! this
line. this sweep, this group here, this clinging
of the children round this mass-all in a glow
balanced by this mass of cool shadow. Tho
mcnningdocsn't Interfere with tho pattern, you
chump!"
"0h. so there is n meaning! You've become
nn anccdotal paintcr!"
"Adjcctives be haneedl I can't talk theory
In the precious daylight. II you can't Soc"
II can see that you arc painting something
you haven't seen. You haven't been in the
East, have your
III i had, l haven't got time to jaw about It
now. Come and have an absinthe at tho Cafe
Victor In memory OF old Paris days-Sixth ave-
nue-any Of the boys will tell YOU. Let me sec,
daylight till 6-half.past o. Au 'ro,r, an
'roir!"
As I went down the steep dark stairs. Same
old DAN" l thought. "Who would imagine I
was n stranger in New York looking UP an old
fellow struggler on his native hoathi IL 1
didn't know better I might fancy his tremon.
dous success had given him the same opinion of
himself that America has of him.. But no, moth
Ing will change him. The same furious dovo.
ton to his canvas once he has quietly planned
his picture. the same obstinate conviction that
he liz seeing SOmpfhiDp in tho pp1y rtuht ynv
And yet something has changed him. Why
has his brush suddenly gone Easti Why this
new kind OF composition crowded with figures
ancient Jews, tool Has he been taken with
picty, and is he going henceforward ostenta-
tiously to proclaim his racel And who is the
cheerful central figure with the fine, open facet
l don't recollect any such scene in Jewish his
tory-or anything SO joyous. Perhaps it's a
study OF modern Jerusalem Jews, to show their
life is not all Mailing Wall and jeremiah. Or
perhaps it's only decorative. America is great
on decoration just now. No, he said the pic
turo had n meaning. Well, l shall know all
about 1t tonight. Anyhow, it's u beautiful
thing.
Same old Dan," Thought even more de-
cisively as, when I opened the door of the little
cafe, a burly, black. bearded figure with auda-
cious eyes camo at me with a grip and a slap
and n roar of welcome, and dragged me to the
quiet corner behind the billiard tables.
Il have just been opalizing your absintho for
you.' he laughed, as we sat down. But what's
the matterl You look kind O. scared"
ITS your inferno Of a city. As l turned the
corner of Sixth avenue an elevated train came
shrieking and rumbling, and a swirl of wind
swept screeching round and round, enveloping
me in a whirlpool Of smoke and steam, until,
dazcd and choked in what seemed the scalding
ofrervescence of a collision, 1 had given up all
hope of ever learning what your COMPOUNDED
picture meant"
"Aha!" He took a complacent sip. "It
stayed with you, did it'll" And tho light of tri-
umph, flushing for an instant his rugged fea-
lures, showed when it waned how pale and
drawn they were by tho fevcrish tension of his
long day 8 work.
"Yes. 1t did, old fellow" / said aTectionate.
ly. The joy and the glow of it, and yet also
some strange antique simplicity and %restful-
ness you have got into it, / know not how, have
been with me all day. comforting me in the
midst of the tearing, grinding life of this closing
nineteenth century after Christ"
A curious smile fitted across Dams face. He
tilted his chair back and rested his head
against tho wall.
There's nothing that takes me so much out
Of the nineteenth century after Christ, he said
$50 1919 va L lNAi'h NalCs IL waits
me back to my early student DAYS, that lie
somewhere amid the enchanted mists of the
youth Of the world; to the zestful toll of the
studios; to tho careless trips in quaint, gray
Holland or flaming, devil-may-care Spain. All.
what scenes shift and shuttle in the twinkle of
the gas jet in this opalescont, liquid-the hot
simmer of the arena at tho Seville bull fight,
with its swirl Of color and movements; the torch.
light procession of pilgrims round the church at
Lourdes, with tie one black nun PRAYING by
herself in n shadowy corner; the lovely valley
of the Tauba, where the tinkle of the sheep
bells minglcs with the Lutheran hymn blown to
the four winds from tho old church tower;
wines that wero red; sunshine that was warm;
mandolins.' His voice died away in exquisite
revcrie.
And the Easti' I said slyly.
A good-natured smile dissipated his delicious
dream.
"Ah, yes" he said. MY East was tho Ty.
roll"
THE Tyrol! How do you meant,
II see you won't let me out OF that story"
''Oh there's a story, Is therei"
'Oh well, perhaps not what you literary chaps
would call a story. No lovemaking in it, you
know"
Then 1t can wait. Tell me about your pic
ture."
BuI lnHt y HllSeu up WIFI GHe Story.
Didn't ] say you had become an anccdotal
artistf'
Its no laughing matter" he said gravely.
you remember, when we parted AT Munich a
year ago last spring, you to 20 on to Vienna ana
/ to go back to Amorical Well. ! had a sudden
fancy to take one last Epropcan trip all by my.
self, and started south through the Tyrol with
a pack on my back, The third day out ! iell
and bruised my thigh severely and could not
make my little mountain town Till moonlight.
And ! toll you | was mighty glad when l limped
across the bridge over the rushing river and
dropped on the hotel sofa. Next morning | was
stiff as u poker, but | struggled up the four
rickety flights to the local physician, and being
assured | only wanted rest. | resolved to take ii
with hook and pipe and mug in II shady beer
gnrnen on, the river. had been reading for
about an hour when five or six Iyrolesc, old
men and young, in their gray and green cos
tunes aud their lit: lc hats, troOped in and occu-
pied tho large table near the inn door. Pres
emily | WAS startled by the sound OF the either;
they began TO sing songs; the pretty daughter of
the house came and Joined in tho singing.
put down my book.
THE old lady who had served me with my
MASS OF beer. seeing my interest, came over
and chatted about her guests. Oh, no. they
were not villagers. They came from four hours
away. The slim one was II schOOltedchcr, and
he Hic.tI was "A tenor, and sang in the chorus of