The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-08-20
STORY OF THE COPPER TEMPLE
BY OLIVE sANxAY.

GunfNe IOIECCa-Vh u 1VaNAl WAAoo aAa OAOA-
ous earth which is the more persuasive be-
cause II is invisible. He had run down
from, the capital the week before to the
Wooster Mecca Of the league" I'm order, |
dear Marie" he wrote back to his hancee,
80 arrive with the swallows. The swal-
lows. my dear. are the best observers. You
nav be sure that when the swallow comes
there Is something to see. And. as far as a
NOR devil OF an artist Is concerned, the old
saw about going TO the ant. thou sluggard.'
isn't in it compared with a swallow. Give
me a swallow any day. / saw one this
morning. I can't say IL has brought any
summer along with 1t so far. IL is as cold
tere as when I left home-not a sign of bud
ding OF building In the trees. or brewing of
Interesting a~tmospheres for arts sake.
However. patience. I will wait and / will
not return 10 you empty handed. Devotedly
yours. Mark Lorrimer."
This had been posted at night. and when
ne arose the next morning the invisible
spring had come.
With a view to being within hailing dis
lance Of the swallows. so TO speak. he had
taken lodgings almost on the town limits.
where the river strove toward the hill and
narrowed the m by its willow hedge.
But nearer 10 nature he must be. The river
sang Of its sources, the wind breathed of
the high hollows and the ~frost-exhaling
rocks. and upon the hills which called him
the little fires Of the brushmen pointed up
ward with tremulous fingers of blue smoke.
Iorrimer did not resist the summons. With
out waiting for his paints or his breakfast
he followed the path. II passed his door
and crossed the common TO the yellow hill
side. where IL met a cattle trail. But, trail
of cattle or humankind, il wound I'D and on
when Lorrimer's mood led him. and where
might be. for all his momentary discerning,
the footprints Of the saints and the immor-
tails. Afterwards. when he had returned.
with depression and a neglected stomach. to
his lodgings. he wondered at the eclecticism
and the prohibitions of nature. If one went
out to nature for artistic detail, one lost the
symbolism and the emotion. If one yielded
20 ones mood. one saved no material med
ium 10 represent 1t. He could remember
no thing OF what he had seen. The mood,
TOO. had passed. yet in passing had hallowed
the yellow hillside where he climbed. so hat
thereafter he must regard 1t with a certain
persistence of tenderness. as women regard
men they have once loved.
Dear Marie" he wrote that night. 'I
have encountered my hill of difficulty. liter
ally. 1 sometimes wonder IL 1 am a real
artist. or only a sham. Would not a real
artist have both observed and felt at the
same moment. with no Consciousness of do
ing either. / saw nothing TO paint" And
she answered. enigmatically: Paint the
thing you felt" But when this answer
reached him Lorrimer mad succumbed to the
spell.
The sorceries of the Indiana hill country
- rrorU onH uoFfnrG 70 uiN0h a nan into
~inaction. Day after day Lorrimer, climbing
the terraced slope beyond his door. appre-
hended mentally. rather than saw with NOR
tai vision. the new green. opening. deepen
ing, descending the gamut of the vertes in
his color tray, from pale emerald to sap
and bronze.
when it reaches Hooker's No. 2 I'll begin
to work" he thought. noticing for the first
time and without compunction how the sea-
son had stolen upon him. "fChide me not,
laborious band" he quoted to Marie In
the city: ''how can / paint what 1 feel
when i don't feel anything"
So hasting April and tardy May journeyed
nOrthward and, meanwhile, Lorrimer's gold
en- hill threw out a green carpet upon its
clay terraces, where the artist sat through
the silent mornings, less a man than a mir
ror OF the life and growth about him,
dreaming far-spreading dreams above the
little town and valley in the sun. But 1t
was pleasanter to lie stretched along the
lodges Of the southward-facing cliffs, moth
ing visible but the low. blue river and the
sky. and the afternoon wind in the pine
tops overhead. He was EMBODIED by soli-
tude as by an opiate. and he presently be-
came conscious OF the stupefaction with
amazement. Am I alive?' he
aloud 10 the pines. "What am /? What Is
this? Is this blissful peace trustworthy
o state Of sense or soul? Am / higher CT
lower than when I dreamed sadly under
city roofs? Higher, because happier. Yet
] have wrought nothing, therefore lower.
All But who said that mans heaven was
a work shop? 80 The lily of the field
tolls not. neither does its kind with which
1t lives. There IL Is. 1t lives with Its kind.
as al things that have not been disturbed
from their primeval peace. And If a man
vithdraws' from his place among men 1t Is
q ACKNOWLEDGMENT TO the whole body; yes,
a ACKNOWLEDGMENT, no matter how insignif-
can't the man. And one loves mankind
ct this distance. An artist especially Is
bound to love mankind. I've always held
that 10 be true in the abstract. If one
can't love individuals one can try to elevate
lueIn- bul Am Il dWdhcs ALI L
Is this life life or is it death? But for the
wonder that prompts the question / should
think it was the latter" He paused here
TO listen for the repeated cry Of a bird
whose note he did not know. and when 1t
failed TO come again sat UP with some
faint sense of disappointment. The move
ment brought distaste, and getting to his
feet he climbed on up the quarry from
bOwlder 10 bowlder till he stood upon the
summit Of the cliff. Far below him lay
miles OF shining river under the line OF
Kentucky hills. each summing its bosom in
the golden afternoon light. Behind the hills
the small. motionless clouds, soft masses
Of Naples yellow and pink hung over an
unseen plain. Il must get to work,
sighed Lorrimer. replying to urgent nature.
Il viii get to work when''-witha an ironical
recollection OF his former resolve-"when 1t
Is time for Hooker's No. ."
I've been using Hooker's Green several
weeks now" said a voice from the other
side Of the bowIder on which he leaned, as,
turning quickly. he faced the mcst beauti-
ful woman he had ever seen. Woman In
height and graciousness Of form. and child
In tender curves and candid smile. Lorrimer
breathed softly before he said In a low
voice. Are YOU the genius OF the hill? The