Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1900-09-13
CHAPTER l.

age Of the stately trees, and lay witt
the dancing shadows on the grass. Il
is indeed paved with gold" he added
What colors Of mine, what colori
mixed by mortal hand, could copy thu
tender green of the young grass, thu
lovely tints Of the trees, the COLDER
CLEAN OF the SUM-"
Randolph. Lord RIVERS, patrician BY
birth, and master of half dozen fail
estates, but an artist by nature, de
lighted in freeing himself from th'
trammels of society, and taking an ar
tistic tour, without valet or servant
without any Of what he called the in
cumbrances of rank. Having hear(
one day that no shire in England was
so well wooded as Warwickshire, thai
for the beauty of its rivers, it's shaded
walks and drives, the county of Ear
Guy" had no equal, he was not happy
until he had told his mother, Lady
RIVERS, that he was going on a sketch
ing tour, and had left the great city
behind him.
| e udu SECn luC lONGliN0I opOto ~
Warwickshire; he had visited the
grand old castle; he had studied the
| loveline ss of Stoneleigh Abbey ard of
Guys Cliff; he had revelled in the
grand ruins of Kenilworth; he had ad-
nired the green woods, the trimming
rivers, the deep, clear meres; and at
iest he had reached the picturesque viii
lage of ST. Byno's. where the quiet, pas
| toral loneliness for which the county
is famous is seen to perfection.
Every artist knows st. Byno's. 1t
is a sleepy village, with placid stream
running through it, and deep, green
woods surrounding it On every side F;
its cottages are half hidden by noble
chestnut trees with green fields around
them, where the cattle stand lazily
knee-deep in the clear pools.
There the young artist had tarried
He was delighted with St. Byno's, with
the magnifcence of its trees, the
beauty of it's streams. On this partic-
ular morning, the second CT June, he
/ had gone TO sketch in the woods. He
1 placed his easel at the opening of a
! glade, and the first words that came
! to his lips were-"June's palace paved
with gold!" Lover Of art, of nature
! Of beauty as he was, he stood silent be-
fore the glorious contrast of sunlight
and shadow, the ripple of green foliage
tinged with gold, which met his eyes.
Suddenly, as he watched the light
that cleaned ,quivered, and fell in
golden glory, he caught sight of pale
blue dress between the trees. He took
up the brushes and worked for a few
minutes; then, on locking up ne was
astonished to find two beautiful eyes
| fixed on him. and a sweet voice said:
rs that real picture? May look
at it?"
ut can hardly be called picture
yet" he answered. raising his hat cour-
te0usly; lit is but the commencement
CT one, ! find can not paint the sun
light as it falls yondeg."
May look at it more closely?" she
asked.
He moved aside. and, placing her
self before the easel, she glanced al
the still wet colors.
NO" she said, you have not
caught the sunlight"
AS he gazed at her, standing in the
bright June sunshine. Randolph, Lord
RIVERS. met his fate. He turned his
eyes with difficulty from the fair young
face
She was a tai, slender girl. with a
1.-the, graceful figure. golden hair and
a face more beautiful than words can
tell-fair-and dainty, of the most DEL
icate type of loveliness. with a broad
low brow and eyes of clearest, darkest
violet, that were almost black under
the dark-fringed lashes. The little
white hands were ungloved, the white
hat had for all ornament a bunch of
corn-nowers, the dress was of plainest
material. yet he could have knelt at
her feet and paid her homage, as to a
queen.
NO" she repeated, "you have not
caught the sunlight. Your light is too
opaque-it wants transparency. 1t is
yellow, and the sunlight is a faint am
ber."
Thanks for your criticism" said he.
you are very welcome" she replied;
and the bewitching violet eyes looked
frankly into his. Many artists come
here to sketch and paint the river and
woods. but none Of them catch the true
color of the sunlight"
you are a severe critic" said the
young artist
II have not the least idea Of crit
ioism," she repHed-"I know nothing
Of art terms; but l can tell when ma
ure is truthfully initiated and when it
is not. The chief character of the sun
light IS its transparency"
The young artist bowed.
Il should like to ask you for few
lessons" he said; and her musical
laughter rang out through the trees.
ASK. ne? Why. never had les
son in my life; so could scarcely I'm
dertake to give one" she replied.
He scarcely knew how to address her.
He would have liked to tell her how