The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1904-08-30

halr, sad the artist "spiil
white paint on it2" asked
SEO1 the man III the big leather
chair No; it was something worse
than that was Just start out to
earn my living with a brush, and was
willing to paint almost anything, from
q portrait TO the SLY piece in theatre
scenery" And then he went on to
tell this story
Zone OF the public buildings In the
capital had big dome, and on the
ceiling Of this dome was a great deal
bf elaborate painting that had become
dingy and needed retouching. was
pleased enough VIXEN got the job Of
doing it. a
They erected staging for me to
work on frail-looking affair. which
almost turned me sick when / ar
rived with my outfit and stood in the
gotunda, looking up at the dome, q
hundred and fifty feet above me.
II shall be SO dizzy can't hold a
brush, said to the carpenter.
Oh, that will be all right, said he.
fWe're going to spread big canvas
under the staging. for the rotunda is
in use all the time, and you'd be spot
ting everybody below with paint UNI
less we had something to protect
them
II felt relieved when l heard that,
and still more relieved when / had
climbed up into the dome and found
that the entire rotunda below was
hidden by taut cloth which the work
men had stretched across.
II had been at work nearly two days
when began to get careless in STEP
ping around the staging. I suppose
the canvas below me gave me feel
ing OF comparative safety. About
noon one day I~took step backward
TO look up at some drapery which
had just repainted My foot touched
only the air, and fell into the can
vas.
There was a ripping and tearing Of
cloth as settled down into the hol-
low. / lay there fat on my back, and
looked round with an interest in the
quality and strength of the canvas and
the way in which it was fastened that
you may be sure was sincere.
There was no doubt about the
strength of The fastenings; they were
of rope, tied round big knots in the
cloth, and strong enough to hold a
horse. But the canvas itself was
frightfully thin. and was widowed in
spots. I turned over on my face and
found myself staring through rip
down to the Misunderstanding of the ro-
tunda, hundred feet below.
II was comfortable enough physical
Iy, but mentality Every time moved
something would stretch and fear.
"Of course yelled for help, and af-
ter a time / heard answering shouts
from below. The canvas was sagging
down in the middle ana straining and
equeaking along the edges. / figured
but that it wouid take the workmen at
least two minutes to climb to the dome.
by the time they got to me thought /
would be spread out below.
II tried to move up the incline of
cloth, scrambling along on my stom-
ach and pushing with my feet; but the
attempt widened the rip in the canvas.
Suddenly, I pushed harder with my
feet, one foot and nearly the whole leg
shot through the canvas.
II could hear the screams Of women
below. MY hngernails scratched and
ciawed the rough surface, but, Of
course, made no impression. They
simply kept me from slipping quite
SO fast. Then heard the steps Of
men on the scaffolding. They let down
a rope that curled near my fingers, but
it was several seconds before / dared
to let go my hold on the canvas for a
sufficient time to grasp it.
Finally ! got both hands upon it.
and they dragged me up the incline
to the staging.