The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-11
WHEN ASHLEY CANCELLED
Bv WILLIAM MORRIS

He could draw with mechanical correct
ness, but there was no life, no soul, In
his work. He realized somehow that there
had been no soul in what he had done
since he put the last touch on Mabel
Stantons portrait.
In the cheap boarding house whittier he
went from the hospital he met gym
mast who became interested in the work
of this man who could draw rapidly if UNI
feelingly. The vaudeville performer ,sug-
gested engagement a lightning art
list. Ashton felt it was not his to choose.
One must live or be coward. He had
"a Their prided himself on his ability to
fight it out And perhaps in the new life
he might WOO back the talent he had lost
for love. But he changed the last syllable
Of his name. Perhaps some day
He had made an inoffensive filler on
vaudeville bills for over a year and had
grown almost resigned to his monotonous
life when one afternoon on his way to
the theater he glanced at the so-called
social record of a VIGOROUSLY unreliable
daily. But he forgot it's reputation for
| Inaccuracies when he saw the announce
ment of MabeFs engagement to a young
army officer of high social standing.
So this was the end. Fiercely some-
| thing seemed to seethe and boil within
him. 1t was she who had clouded his
life and stolen his cunning And she
had taught him to love her. She had
wooed him at every sitting for that
marvellous portrait which instead of bring
ing him fame had taken with it his chance
for success and happiness.
In this condition he gazed stupidity at
the note handed him by the doorkeeper
at the stage entrance. He was not to go
on SO early as usual this afternoon. He
would, In fact, precede the strong man
| recently imported from abroad and who
was creating tremendous sensation and
| attracting fashionable folk to the con-
! t1nuous houses. Ashley thoroughly under
| stood the reason of the change in his hour
| and thought bitterly as he slipped on
| his shabby tuxedo coat that it was simply
| because the managed wanted. him
to work out front while the
! stage hands were setting the heavy scene
| for the strong man.
| With equal dullness and lack of in
| terest he stepped on the stage when his
call came. AS he bowed mechanically he
glanced across the footlights with idle
| curiosity. Then he leaned forward, a
sudden light famed in his eyes, and his
pulse throbbed violently. In the right
hand box sat Mabel Stanton with a party
of smart people, evidently bent upon see
ing the latest European sensat ton.
| He turned to the blackboard over which
had been stretched some sheets Of white
paper and reached for the charcoal with
which to draw his first sketch Then for
a moment he hesitated, wondering If this
| peculiar throbbing in his head would
never cease. Some one in the audience
coughed; there was restless rustlinG Of
programs. They were waiting for him.
| And still he Stood, swaying slightly, the
| sheets of paper gleam ming before his aching
eyes.
| Then suddenly something in his brain
seemed to snap. He clutched the char
coal feverishly, and moment later he
was laying in the outline of a womans
face with firm. authoritative strokes. They
| r,1Ia Icfro - =,
charcoal stage artist now. There was
fire; there was the old time power in his
hand. He forgot his audience. The
twelve minutes allotted to him on the
program passed, but he paid no heed.
The stage manager signaled him violently
from the wings. He's been drinking
exclaimed that astute gentleman, but he
dared not risk a scene by having him re-
moved bodily.
For twenty minutes he worked on fever
ishly, then stood aside. A ripple of sur
prise seemed to run over the expectant
house, then cheers, for even to the boys
! in the gallery that picture was Instinct
with, life and truth and genius. A girl
leaned forward in the right hand box; the
audience glanced from her to the picture
and back to the girl. Then came an
, other thunder Of applause. Ashley was
backing uncertainty off the stage. In the
) entrance he fell fainting at the stage man
: ayers feet go. ;
He came to in his dingy dressing room.
now glorified by the presence of the wun-
an he loved. Her voice came to him I'M
certainly, tearfully, from far, far away.
. Herbert, dear, I've found you after all
I these weary months. I am my own mis-
tress now, and nothing shall separate U.s."
He chung to her hand like tired child.
And I can work again. 1t was your
. face that brought it all back" He turned
whimsically to the manager, who had
4 come round from the front Of the house
to learn what it was all about.
l some one else to work in one I've just
made date that is going to last