Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1903-08-05

find something besides apple blossoms
to paint to-day"
There was an old man who lived in
a suburb of the town in a little house,
with his dogs and an old hOusekeeper.
He was painter and he had
strange theory that painting should
be labor of love, and the reward
sought Interpretation in the work.
He lived alone; for no one intruded
upon him.
When Ruth Dartmore discovered
her talent she applied to him for in
struction. He would have turned
away any one else; but her wOuth
and beauty were an inspiration to him
and her enthusiasm pleased him; so
taking a younger brother or sister
with her three time week she went
to him for instruction. Shortly after
the incident in the orchard she came
to him with a sketch Of youth and
a maiden and a fine setter dog, under
a large old apple tree laden with
bloom, and told him her plan for the
painting-and he was greatly pleased.
So she worked all summer, and he
helped her, but she was hard to salts
fly. The youth was not handsome
enough; the pink and white blossoms
did not melt softly enough into the
blue and gray Of the sky; the tender
green of the foliage was not delicate
enough, so she would lay aside a
nearly finished canvas and begin
again. This unrest delighted the old
painter
"You are coming along finely" he
said. "You have caught the divine
fine"
One morning in early autumn she
looked up from the canvas to the old
painter.
"It will do, it will dol" he said, nod
ding his head. cts as beautiful as a
Dream
And it was, indeed, a dream-picture
the youth and maiden and fine dog
under the grand old apple tree.
"Will it do to exhibit-to send OFF,"
she asked timidly. A shade passed
over the old mans face.
"And you feel the thirst for fame?"
he said slowly.
mo, not that" she answered
quickly and earnestly.
"It is necessity need money"
"And you will sell your birthright?
Well, we will see what it is worth in
the market"
The old painter had once lived in
the world. and still retained know
ledge of the places where such work
was sold So he packed up the paint
ing and sent it, with all it's breezy
freshness of youth and beauty and
country air, away to the city. The
young painter had said to him, II can
do nothing now until I see," and he
had looked disappointed, and she
grew thin and nervous while wait
ing.
She had seen Henry but once since
their meeting in the orchard and that
was the evening after the picture was
packed. She met him In the road,
am going back to college tomorrow,
Ruth. My vacation has not been
what hoped it would be when I came
home, but two more terms at college
and then Hope to get into place
where can command your attention.
''You had best build your air castle
without me, Henry"
"You are building yours without
me, suppose?"
yes
And he went away in anger 1t was
heart-breaking to have him go in this
way; but her mother had said, "The
Carridines are proud people, and you
had better keep away form them
She thought of this, and it helped her
to control her feelings.
One day the old painter sent for
her; she came to him, white and
breathing hard. He held out a roll
of bills toward her ooh is it enough,
enough for a term at a good art
SCHOOL," she gasped.
"And it is an art school, then, you
aim at?" he asked, somewhat APP
peased eyes, it is enough; we'll
make it enough"
Then she left the country and went
to city to study art, and her life be-
came a life of labor, where a partial
success was followed by failure; then
a struggle to succeed again. She
taught awhile, and studied awhile,
and her name was printed in a para
graph of other names of toilers along
the same hard way.
She rarely had time to visit her old
home; time passed, and she realized
it not. But there was mixture OF
vanity and selfishness with all this
devotion to art-a desire to write her
name above that of Carridine. With
this in view she triumphed over all
natural feelings, and lost the sweet
ness that is in work for the works
sake. Her younger brother and sis
ters grew up, married and moved
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