Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1903-04-23
CHAPTER VI.

Nor ever draw the rein,
But ere We lead the Faery Queen
Twill burst your heart in twain
He has slipped his foot from the STIR
rup bar,
The bride from his hand,
And he is bound by hand and foot
To the queen o. Faeryland.
Sir Hoggie and the Fairies.
- ONE weeks later, on a very fog
- gy Sunday, Dick was return
~ ing across the park to his stu
dio. sIThis,' he said, sis evil
IDENTIFY the thrashing that Torp meant.
1t hurts more than expected, but the
queen can do no wrong, and she GER
tainly has some notion of drawing"
He had just finished a Sunday visit
to Maisie-always under the green eyes
of the red haired impressionist girl
whom he learned to hate at sight-and
was tingling with a keen sense of
shame Sunday after Sunday, putting
on his best clothes, he had walked over
to the untidy house north of the park,
first to see Maisie's pictures and then
to criticise and advise upon them as he
realized that they were productions on
which advice would not be wasted.
Sunday after Sunday, and his love
grew with each visit. He had been
compelled to cram his heart back from
between his lips when it prompted him
to kiss Maisie several times and very
much indeed. Sunday after Sunday
the head above the heart had warned
ffof fcio un off a1 q
and that it would be better to talk as
connectedly as possible upon the mys-
teries of the craft that was all and all
to her.
Therefore it was his fate to endure
weekly torture in the studio built out
over the clammy back garden of a frail,
stuffy little villa where nothing was
ever in its right place and nobody ever
called-to endure and to watch Maisie
moving to and fro with the teacups.
He abhorred tea, but since it gave him
a little longer time in her presence he
drank 1t devoutly, and the red haired
girl sat in an untidy heap and eyed him
without speaking. She was always
watching him.
Once, and only once, when she had
left the studio, Maisie showed him an
album that held a few poor cuttings
from provincial papers-the briefest Of
hurried notes on some of her pictures
sent to outlying exhibitions. Dick
stopped and kissed the paint smudged
numb on the open page stJh, my logcs
my love- he muttered, 'do you value
these things? Chuck 'em into the waste
paper basket!'
mot till / get something better" said
Maisie, shutting the book.
Then Dick, moved by no respect for
his public and a very deep regard for
the maiden, did deliberately propose, in
order to secure more Of these coveted
cuttings, that he should paint pic
ture which Maisie should sign.
'gThat's childish" said Maisie, "and
didn't think it of you. 1t must be my
work mine, mine, mine"
go and design decorative medallions
for rich brewers houses. You are
thoroughly good at that"
Dick was sick and savage.
"Better things than medallions, Dick, !"
was the answer in tones that recalled
a gray eyed atoms fearless speech to
Mrs. Jennett. Dick would have abased
himself utterly but that the other girl
trailed in.
Next Sunday he laid at Maisie's feet
small gifts of pencils that could almost
draw of themselves and colors in whose
permanence he believed, and he was
ostentatiously attentive to the work in
hand. 1t demanded, among other
things, an exposition of the faith that
was in him. Torpenhow's hair would
have stood on end had he heard the
| fiuency with which Dick preached his
own gospel of art.
A month before Dick would have
been equally astonished, but it was
Maisie's will and pleasure, and he drag
| ged his words together to make plain
to her comprehension all that had been
| hidden to himself of the why's and
! wherefores Of work There Is not the
least difficulty in doing thing if you
only know how to do it; the trouble is
to explain your method.
Il could put this right if / had a
/ brush in my hand" said Dick despair
ingly over the modelling of a chin that
Maisie complained would not sloolS
flesh" 1t was the same chin that she
had scraped out with the palette knife.
"But / find 1t almost impossible to
teach you. There's a queer, grim,
Dutch touch about your painting that
/ like, but I've notion that you're
weak in drawing. You foreshorten as
| though you never used the model, and
you've caught Kami's pasty way Of
dealing with flesh in shadow. Then,
again, though you don't know it your.
self, you shirk hard work Suppose
| you spend some Of your time on line
alone Line doesn't allow of shirking.
Oils Go, and three square inckes of
fiashy, tricky stuff in the corner of a
pic sometimes carry a bad thing off,
as I know. That's immortal, Do line
work for little while, and then can
tell more about your powers, as old
Kami used to say"
Maisie protested. She did not care
| for the pure line.
| 81 know said Dick. eYou want to
do your own fancy heads with bunch
of flowers at the base of the neck tC
hide bad modelling The red haired
girl laughed a little. you want to dc
landscapes with cattle knee deep il
grass to hide bad drawing. You want
to do great deal more than you car
do. You have sense of color, but you
want form Color's a gift-put il
aside and think no more about it-but
form you can be drilled into. Now, al
! your fancy heads-and some of then
are very good viii keep you exactly
where you are. With line you mus
go forward or backward, and it viii
show up all your weaknesses" i"
"But other people, began Masle.
You mustn't mind what other peo
! pie do. If their souls were your soul, il
would be different. You stand and fal
by your own work, remember, and it's
waste Of time to think of any one eIst
in this battle"
/ Dick paused, and the longing thai
had been SO resolutely put away came
back into his eyes. He looked at Mai
sic, and the look asked as plainly al
words, Was 1t not time to leave al