The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1904-05-14
THE OUTCAsT.

1t was a dull. cheerless day in early
spring, and the leaden clouds which hung
over Paris gave no sign of breaking.
The few pedestrians whose business
compelled them to be abroad hurried
along the sopping streets and disap-
peared in the gloom and fog, which
shrouded all but the nearest objects
from view. Though as yet it was early
afternoon, the sound of traffic was
hushed, and there was little to break
the silence but the doleful drip-drip of
the rain, as it fell from the branches
of the trees along the deserted boule-
wards. Along a side street leading tow
ard the Rue Hausn1ann a girl was max
ing her way against the driving wind
and rain, her figure reflected in the wet
pavement. It needed but a glance to
see that she was in the grip of poverty
that poverty which makes men and
women desperate, and demands for IT'S
own the very soul of its victims. She
could not have been more than 20,
though her face told it's tale of slow
starvation. and her feeble footsteps
that she was wellnigh spent Some
where in her thin, emaciated features
there was left a trace of former beauty,
or perhaps It was in the depths of her
big, mournful eyes, with their circles OF
shadow. AS she passed along the de-
serted street, elutching her threadbare
shawl round her shoulders, II seemed
as though she would never have Sufn-
cient strength to reach the end. And
indeed she was almost fainttng, when
turning sharply to the right she slowly
mounted the steps of one of the Dig
houses in the Rue Hausmann. In an
swer to her ring, the door was opened
by a man servant, who gazed halt-
pityingly, half-scornfully at the sorry
figure before him.
Am I late, m'sieu? feared I should
never get here She spoke timidly,
and staggered against the wall as the
warmth of the hall struck her.
ut is nearly half past two; he has
been waiting for close on an hour:
You will need to be careful in future.
His voice was hard, and it was evident
that the girls wretched appearance
aroused in him no feelings of sym
pathy.
again" she said, and prepared to fol-
low him.
The man led the way through ,he
handsomely decorated hall, with its
rare old furniture and deep, silent
carpets. up the staircase, and paused
a moment before a recessed doorway,
over which hung a heavy poruere of
crimson velvet. The girl was breath
less. and spot of color glowed feebly
on each of her Sunken cheeks. The
servant held aside the curtain, and,
opening the door, motioned her to
enter. A big, somewhat coarse look
ing man was pacing the room, which
was furnished as a studio. Tapestries,
old armor and curios were scattered
about in all directions, and on a
carved easel hung a half-hnished can
vas, in a heavy, gilded frame At the
far end there was small raised
platform, on which there was wood
en- stool. evidently placed there for a
model.
you are late. and the best light
has gone,' he said, turning angrily on
the girl, who was standing by the
door. What have you to say?'
please, 'sieu. the rain and storm
and 1 was Weak-and hungry" She
looked appealingly at him, and the
a ring on the floor.
Always some excuse. I am weary
of them I see what it is; you are
too well paid-late hours, the wine
shops half the day in bed-and I
must suffer. 1t is true. I don't want
to hear any more" He pushed his
stool over to the easel and sat down.
selecting his brushes with care out of
a sheaf on a tray beside him.
The girl YEARLY seated herself, and
began taking the pins out of her hair.
Now that she had removed her hat.
there was something in her face
which betOkened that she had known
better days But it was only a faint
glimmer, and as she sat with her
dark, straight hair falling over her
neck and shoulders. one saw that
Emile Blisson was right. she was the
ideal model for the great picture.
which was to make al Europe ring
with his praises. It had been the
dream of his life to paint THE Out
cast it was to be his magnum opus.
the browning effort of his life work.
Into the one solitary figure he would
put his best woiE.: it should reveal
the sorrows and suferings of humani-
ty in way that had never yet been
attempted; it should compel attention,
and rivet the beholder with its terrible
realism For years he had waited and
searched for a model who would give
him the needed inspiration. There
could not have been a professional in
Paris whom he had not seen; he had
wandered through the lowest parts of
the city, had scrutinized every face in
the Faubourg St. Antonio in the hope
of finding what he wanted, but all to
no purpose. Then one evening as he
was returning homewards, he saw.
crouching on one of the seats in the
boulevards, q figure which attracted