Morris tribune., 1901-04-13
~ Y N3NN - - 49,
"a 6eaRly Storgetttta.r


~ - 80 - g; - ~ j Z ~ ~ So
with darting bees ABOUT it. ;.rhere Ii
nothing but pastels in this wing saiC
the angel, ''the soft colors and clea
tints which belong to an opaque medi
um." He reached out his hand anC
drew in a climbing rose that had reach
ed to the easement. "Was anything
more exquisite?' he said. Then, softly
and carefully lest it should brush of
It's petals against the rough window
ledge, he bent it back to it's place
against the gray wall. :
"Close your eyes," the angel said. Il
will show you the second wing" The
painter felt himself led. to the south
window. "Now look" said his guide.
"A strange change had come over the
landscape in that short moment. A
mellower flush softened the foliage of
the trees and deepened the hues Of
the. blossoms. 9he sky itself had a
stronger and more vivid blue. TN this
gallery" said the angel, fare nothing
but oils. This is where Rosa Bonheur
painted. Look across to the road and
you will see the charging, white named
heroes of the Horse Fair and hear
their neighing. Playing there on the
post road are the gamins Of Marie
Bashkirtseff. Here are all the land
scapes that were ever spread on can
vas. Today there are scenes Of calm
and quiet; tomorrow my Master will
cloud his sky, bend his trees and whip
his hedges Wite "a great wind in order
that those pupils who wish may have
for model the gloom and the storm"
With a gesture the angel bade the
painter close his eyes second time
and led him to the east window. When
he opened them there had come another
subtle change on the world without.
The rich tints had disappeared: a sub
dued brown had rusted the hedgerows,
and wisps of vagrant, motley leaves
danced along the paths. The great trees
were bare, and in the network which
their stripped, complaining branches
laced the wind made somber singing.
I'm this wing" said the angel, "are
my Masters etchings. Here are silhou-
cites Of forests against steel sky.
Here are stretches Of barren seacoast
with lonely dunes. Here are desolate
country houses by bleak ways. Here
are all the sad and sober shadows Of
the pencil"
! Again the angel babe him close his
eyes and flung the north window open.
This time a further change, the great
est of all, appeared. The painter
could scarce repress cry of delight,
for he was looking out upon a world
Of sculpture. Soft snow had marbled
the dimpIing surface Of street and
field and smoothed the harsh outlines
Into grace, shilling, the sparkles of the
distant river. It had turned the. con-
tours of the faraway hills in the
curves of mountain maidens and giant
warriors. 1t was as though some
great white vision had come while the
earth slept to touch all that was bare,
Ill that was ugly, all that was without
charm, and dream it into loneliness.
The painter drew long. deep breath
and threw back his head with a pecal-
ar gesture. There was a new light
upon his face, at which the angel
smiled. He seated himself and dropped
MS face into his hands. 1t was so
great and marvellous!
When he looked up. the angel was
gone. He started to his feet. The
ears were wet upon his face. "A
beautiful dream" he said. "a beau
iful dream" He looked at the can.
7as spread upon the easel for a mo-
nent, smiling at it, but not bitterly.
Then he went to the window and look
ID out upon the spring. The climbing
ose was still there, little redder, a
title more sweetly perfumed, little
higher and stronger upon it's stalk.
lie reached out finger and drew it
nto the embrasure of the window.
1t was beautiful dream" he said.
But it was not dream after all. for
n hour later the door behind him ]
pened very softly and the angel came .
q. He did not speak, but went close
ehind where the painter worked and /
ooked over his shoulder. The great !.
esign of the ''The Triumph Of Life"
Fas blotted out, and low down in the
orDer of the huge canvas a little spot !,
color was growing and taking
hape. i
He was painting the climbing rose.
Then the angel smiled to himself,
assed out through the door noiselessly
nd was gone.-Atlanta Constitution. Il