Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-10-13
A SCULPTOR CHOSEN.

She had often noticed him before. He
always sat in the same spot, with bowed
head and a orayon in his hand. Beside
him were the pictures he had drawn, nc
mere daubs, crude in color and sketchy in
treatment, but real artistic gems. Strange
that a mar of genius should be reduced to
this.
She was young, beautiful and wealthy.
What could she have in common with a
street artist, however great his talent?
She did not like poverty, sorrow or atllic-
ton in any shape or form. If it came
prominently before her, she stepped aside
with a shudder. 1t undoubtedly had the
power to rutfle ~momentarily the surface of
her lotus eating existence.
Today she had a letter opportunity of
examining his work than she had ever
had before. She had been passing an idle
hour in the park at a time not consecrated
to fashion, and as she sauntered through
the gate on her homeward way her eyes
rested upon some of the artists recently
completed sketches and fingered there.
Five minutes-ten minutes ~passed-and
still she remained chained to the spot, her
gaze fascinated by the scene before her.
1t represented an old fashioned church
yard, with a little ivy clad church Nesting
among the trees. But it was not upon the
sacl ed editice that her eyes were riyeted,
but on a grave which, from Its beauty OF
design and comparatively recent structure,
stotd apart from the others, which were
all more or less in different stages Of de-
cay.
The artist, following his own poetic
fancy, had made three studies of the grave
as it appeared in summer, autumn and
winter. The first showed it almost smoth-
cred in flowers. Climbing roses clambered
over the base and wound about the ex-
qui itely carved figure of the angel, who
sto' d erect with outstretched wings and
hai I pointing to the skies. In the next
skel III no trace of the roses remained, but
in their place the tomb was strewn with
will cred leaves, emblematic Of the decay
Of LIES hopes. The third showed the leaf
less branches of the trees, waving in
ghostly fashion over the wind swept mon.
ument, which now stood alone in stately
grandeur, unhidden by any earthly
shroud. The cleaning figure Of the angel,
denuded of all earth's favors, still pointed
triumphantly upward in reminder of the
life everlasting, which was still further
exemplified by the inscription, "Till the
Day Break, " which was carved in raised
letters on the pedestal.
The heart of the beautiful woman was
stirred with a strange emotion. She had
not seen the original for ten long years.
"You seem to know this part Of the
country WE'LL" she said, addressing the
.u<{at xr,L4 1no1oI ~ ctort1o1 90 har mn.
steal tones fell on his ear. "This is Ger
tainly a faithful ~portraiture."
1T ought to be-" he remarked, 1.-THE
design was executed by me-"
"By your" she exclaimed amazed.
''Surely not! That was the work of a
rising artist already famed in his profess
sion, not
mot by a street picture maker who
Graves your charity" he replied, with a
touch of bitterness. "You are right. But,
strange as 1t may appear, I, too, was once
honored and respected, but I had the mis-
fortune to be unfortunate. 1t is a crime
that the world never forgives.'
He drew his sombrero still farther over
his eyes, but not before she had time to
notice that his handsome, haggard fea-
lures bore traces of refinement. After all,
it was none of her business, she argued.
Yet, as she dropped a coin in the box, her
eyes still rested lingeringly on the pictures.
I'll like these" she said slowly, un-
willingly almost, it seemed. II know this
part Of Cornwall we'll. What would you
charge for three duplicate copies of the
sketches?'
"My days of fixed prices are a thing Of
the past" the artist replied, with cold
courtesy. "The remuneration l would
leave entirely to you"
Every we'll. Bring them next week to
this address. Wait, ! will put an hour,
SO that you may find me at home" She
handed him the card, and with a slight in
clination passed on.
Gilbert Gerard's heart was filed with
bitterness, a~nd-curious anomaly-the
more 80 when on examining the box he
found a bright goldpiece among the pence
and halfpenoe. A previous glance at the
bit OF pasteboard had shown him that it
bore the anne Of Mrs. Vivian, and that
the address was Eaton square.
He family remembered the name as
that of a brilliant beauty who had first
dazzled the fashionable world some ten
years ago, and he saw that she was now
In the zenith of her charms.
For the next few days he worked hard
at the sketches, though of course not en-
tirely deserving his old haunt, and on the
day appointed he took them to Mrs. WV
ian.
She received him g%raciously enough,
but Gerard, who WA sensitive to a fault,
WINGED at the shade of patronage which
he fancied he detected in her manner.
He thought she would at least bestow q
word Of praise upon his work, which left
nothing to be desired from point Of fin
ish or fineness OF execution. But in this
he was doomed to disappointment, for she
glanced at them carelessly and laid them
aside.
Gerard felt q cold chill steal over him.
Yet what could he expects This was a
woman Of the world, and her emotions
must necessarily be Of a transient nature
-hore today and gone tomorrow. He
thrust the closed envelope she gave him
savagely into his breast pocket, and did
not open 1t until the following morning.
He certainly had nj reason to complain Of
want Of generosity as he fingered the
notes. which amounted to e2O. He gazed
at them long, buried in profound thought,
then q wild longing chr nver him to es-
cape from his shaokles and buy back self
respect and all that made life worth living.