Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1901-04-25

1.-THE painters gaze followed his. II
was spring. A little soft wind was
blowing. The starting grass in the gar
den below was a light. placid green.
just beyond was peach tree in bloom
with darling bees about it. There is
nothing but pastels in this wing" said
the angel, 1.-THE soft colors and clear
tints which belong to an opaque medi-
um." He reached out his hand and
drew in a climbing rose that had reach
ed TO the easement ''Was anything
more exquisite?" he said. Then, softly
and carefully lest 1t should brush of
its petals against the rough window
ledge, he bent 1t back to its place
against the gray wall.
CLOSE your eyes" the angel said I
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. The sky itself had a
stronger and more vivid blue. I'm this
gallery" said the angel, ARE 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 We're 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 with great wind in order
that those pupils who wish may have
for model the gloom and the storm"
With a gesture the angel babe the
painter close his eyes a 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.
In this wing, said the angel, ARE
my Masters etchings. Here are silhou-
cites of forests against a 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 a cry of delight,
for he was looking out upon world
of sculpture. Soft snow had marbled
the dimpling surface of street and
field and smoothed the harsh outlines
into grace, stilling the sparklcs of the
distant river. 1t had turned the con-
tours of the PARKWAY 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,
all that was ugly, all that was without
charm. and dream it into loveliness.
The painter drew a long, deep breath
and threw back his head with a pecul-
lar gesture. There was a new light
upon his face, at which the angel
smiled. He seated himself and drop. ed
his face into his hands 1t was so
great and marvellous.
When he looked up. the angel was
gone. He started to his feet. The
tears were wet upon his face. "A
4
tiful dream" He looked at the can
vas spread upon the easel for mo-
ment. smiling at it, but not bitterly.
Then he went to the window and look
ed out upon the spring. The climbing
rose was still there. little redder. a
little more sweetly perfumed, little
higher and stronger upon its stalk.
He reached out a finger and drew it
into the embrasure of the window.
at was a beautiful dream" he said.
But it was not a dream after all, for
an hour later the door behind him
opened very softly and the angel came
in. He did not speak. but went close
behind where the painter worked and
looked over his shoulder. The great
design of the The Triumph of Life"
was blotted out. and low down in the
corner of the huge canvas a little spot
of color was growing and taking
shape.
He was painting the climbing rose.
Then the angel smiled to himself.
passed out through the door noiselessly
and was gone.-Atlanta Constitution.
Unfortunately.