Milford chronicle., 1903-02-20

its petals against the rough window
I ledge, he bent it 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 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 with 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 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 a sOmber singing.
I'm 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 F..
are all the sad and sober shadows of I.
the pencil"
Again the angel bade him close his I.
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 dimplng surface of street and
ield and smOOthed the harsh outlines
ntO grace. stilling the sparkles of the
listant river 1t had turned the con-
ours of the faraway hills in the
,urves of mountain maidens and giant
warriors. 1t was as though some
great white vision had come while the
,arth slept to touch all that was bare,
III that was ugly, all that was without
harm. and dream it into loveliness.
The painter drew long. deep breath
md threw back his head with a pecul-
ar gesture. There was a new light
lpOn his face, at which the angel
miled. He seated himself and dropped
lis face into his hands. 1t was so
reat and marvellous!
When he looked up, the angel was
one. He started to his feet. The
ears were wet upon his face a
eautifu dream" he said. "a beau
iful dream" He looked at the can
as spread upon the easel for a mo-
lent, smiling at it, but not bitterly.
hen he went 20 the window and look
d out upon the spring. The climbing
Ose was still there. n little redder. a
tile more sweetly perfumed. little
igher and stronger upon its stalk.
lie reached out a finger and drew it
ito the embrasure of the window.
1t was a beautiful dream" he said.
But it was not dream after ALL for
n hour later the door behind him
Dened very softly and the angel came
j. He did not speak but went close
ehind where the painter worked and
'Oked over his shoulder Tue great
esign Of the The Triumph of Life"
as blotted out. and low down in the
lrncr Of the huge canvas a little spot
color was growing and taking
lape.
He was painting the climbing rose.
Then the angel smiled to himself.
used out through the door nOiselessly
I'D was gone.-Atlanta Constitution.