The Monticellonian., 1903-11-12
An Incorrigible Angel -
Copyright, 1905, by Daily Story Pub. Cop
By F. H. LANCASTER

TT FIN, the artist, dropped his book
 and strode to the window. there to stand and stare out upon the green slope that slipped shimmering and si- lent to the valley below reen-gold where the sun shot down to it; green black where the pine shadows fell upon it; but always green, glad and beautiful. A thing to hold any artis- tic eye. An, but this artist was blind to it. That unlueky line of Ruskin's. It had walked afresh all the heartburn ger he had hoped to soothe into ever lasting rest with the lullaby of labor.
 An incorrigible angeli" What mat tered it that Ruskin was writing of eighth century Irish art? At the words had sprung before the artists mental vision that tantalizing embodiment of beauty and mischief. If the great critic had coined the phrase for the express benefit of monsieur's. his hosts. slip of daughter. it could not have come more pat to the purpose. So while he play of high light and shadow the artist saw only dark eyes beneath thick, curling lashes. dimples dancing in roseleaf cheeks and tempting lips parting over pearly teeth.
 How wonderfully lovely the child Is" he unused. while q smile lifted tho tips of his mustache. Little tease. 1n- corrigible angel suits her to dot. " And he smiled again. finding these for bidden fruits very sweet indeed
 For all thought of the lovely child was forbidden fruit to the artist Being young and ambitious, and acknowiedg- ing frankly that matrimony was too heavy handicap for his career. te had planned to esehew woman and the thought of her.
 "I'll never marry for anything but love Ergo. if I don't fall in love won't marry" he explained to his pipe and pleased with his philosophy and it's penetration ne had pursued his ap- pointed path disoontented and happy or contented and unhappy as is the way with artists. be the A big or little.
 Now. voila That path had brought him abruptly yis-a-vis with an incor- rigible angel Comment donc? It was time for his resolution to assert itself -0r to turn tail and run. As for the artist. he wished Jhe resolution to stand pat On general principles men like to believe that they are made of sterner stuff than a rope of sand Ger tainment A week ago he had burned his sketches of rounded cheek and beauteous brow and said to his heart Enough. enough" Said it sternly all in the dead vast and middle of tho ght." Eh oela. but he kept on star ing down the slope until he spied Q white speck at the bottom of it.
 "Aspasi's befrilled sun-bonnet."
 He seized his nat and slammed his door. Resolution had turned tail Clel esclanGre. quel esclandre,
 Oui vraiment. It is so ont there on those green hills under the pleasant sunshlne-among the simple lives of peaceful 'Caja1 land. The heart of am bition grows ashamed of it's clamor- of it's everlasting "Give, give There success, and that is the serenity of soul that sets aside money and success as little tin toys that eternity may easily dispense with" The artist breathed in such thoughts with the air--after reso- lution ran away. He fancied that it was because of the profound peace ana silence that he felt nearer to Heaven