The Lamar register., 1902-05-07
A COSTLY
ChRYSANThEMUM
NJ soHr y. aAETzay.

O$VVVVV~VVV~
sT'HATCHER," cried CHEEKY voice
from the corner of the studio.
"Oh, Thatch!"
"What Ia itr growled Thatcher,
shifting his easel and fumbling over a
pile of twisted tubes. He was thin and
cheek; his eye was dilated Did fever
ish. "Whnt is it Hector?" he repeated.
"Ain't mad are your" chirruped Hec-
tor, coming out from the screen be-
hind which he had been washing
dishes.
"Nadf No; why should be mad7"
"I'm going to ask you delicate
question. that's all, Thatoh7
"well7"
''Saw Brownlow last night at the sx-
hibition," parrisd Hector. wiping a
plate.
"No question about that. mur-
INJURED Thatcher. lolling back and
squirting at his picture.
"Well, don't fly off now, Thateh. He
asked me to ask you II yout take q
Thousand dollars for"
"For what?" The painter turned
quiclDy and there was hard. challeng-
ing note in his words and manner.
"For The Chrysanthemum,' an
swsrsd Hector, pausing In his dish-
wiping and looking pleadingiy at his
friend.
Thatcher had turned back 70 his
easel. He was biting his thin lip. His
hand was trembling. but there was no
irrssolution in the frown upon his pale
forehead
"What do you mean by asking me
such q question:" asked the painter,
without turning.
"Meanf Why do I ever meAnf
think it's good price; know you
need the money; you haven't anything
sass finished. Brownlow is the richest
amateur In New York. Mean? Just
mean that you ought TO take It. Sell
The Chrysanthemum.' When she
comes over IL she comes, you can paint
another for yourself; II she don't"
''Shut up, Hectorl" roared Thatch-
sr!" painting furiously so that the
thrum of his brush could be heard In
the still room. Then after q long
pause: "I won't sell h-hsar that,
Hsetor1"
The painter got up. lighted cigar
sAte and stood before the only finished
picture on his dreary walls. 1t was of
woman, yellow-haired and smiling,
her blue eyes luminous in the half
light her gloved hand lolling across
the edge of cafe table. Hector
=, whistled softly and disappeared be-
hind the screen. Thatcher, rapt and
hectic, stood staring at The Chrysan-
Ahavn,NY, ~ hr ct \ o..
wiping his hands. patient, CHEEKY, the
picture Of health. He plunged his
strong fingers into bucket of model
Ing clay. and with stray glances at
Thatcher's work, sang softly to him.
self. For half an hour they worked in
silence, the painter resting now and
then as II weary. the sculptor. aproned
and alert, whistling or singing, in the
exuberance Of health and hope.
Thatch." he said at last, winking
slyly at the lay figure on his table,
"lsnd me $40, Thatch7"
II haven't got &c." said the painter,
starting.
Hector whistled Ia Peloma" for
two minutes. Then:
Thatch. you're getting extrava-
CANT"
Thatcher struck his brush handle
into the jardiniere Of sand. folded his
thin hands and with o wistful smile
turned on his friend.
Hector" he began. "I'd better tell
you before we get to misunderstand-
ing each other. You know I've been
doing pretty we'll since the Koeller ex-
hibit. I've sold over 81. 600 worth, you
know. But I can't lend you $40 be-
cause-fact is, Hector. I've sent il all
TO The Chrysanthemum.' Her last
letter said she'd leave Paris on the
10th. She'll be here New Years day.
When she's here it'll be time enough
to sell Hrownlow the picture, I'llne
the thousand all right and III have
her"
Hector hummsd airily q he osisd
1is mud mercury. -, as7l.s
go yop'ye sent b. ...',x !. ! Z do,lsr.-