The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1904-08-26
and large, and the forehead high. He

came were worth waiting for. In age
he was 3d. His voice was what at
tracted Beth most 1t was in the lower
register, a deep, soft and mellow voice
that won respect and suited his quiet,
deferential manner.
Aside from the little weakened dealer
in old worries and curiosities on the
first floor, they were the only occu-
pants of the house who made it their
home That served as bond of SYM
patty; and they soon discovered 9TH
ers They were both orphans and both
without near relatives; they were
both struggling for recognition-he as
a painter of landscapes in oils, she as
worker in metals. And then there
were minor sympathies born of similar
tastes and views which came to light
in that first year of their friendship.
1t became his custom to drop into
her room for moment on his way up
and down stairs, and then in the even
ings for long, enjoyable talks, while
he sat in her one easy-chair and
smoked and she worked away at an or
der or did her mending. Once week
he descended tremendously, immacu-
lately clean, but diffusing a strong odor
of paint, and took lunch with her,
gravely marveling at the display and
pretending alarm at her recklessness.
Indeed, those luncheons for two were
invariably followed the next day by a
repast for one of Spartan simplicity.
Once he had returned her hospitality
he had sold a small canvas and they
had dined sumptuously at one end of
his paint-stained table on lobster cut
lets and French peas and asparagus,
sent in chilled, but appetizing, from
the cafe across the square. And he
mad made marvellous coffee in an old
copper kettle, and had produced bot
tie of olives, which, he solemnly de-
clared, had been two years awaiting
the occasion.
Usually he called for her at the in
stitute in Brooklyn-she still attended
an evening class three times a week
and brought her home. Once they had
walked back across the bridge on
brisk winter night, the white stars
above them, the purple lamps advanc-
ing and meeting them along their path,
and the lemon and red and green lam
terms twinkling up from boats and
pier-heads. That night she had heard
his story. He had told her of boy
hood spent in little town in western
Missouri, of his first dim dissatisfaction
with his lot and his growing hatred
for toll in his fathers squalid general
store;" how at his fathers death-his
mother he had never known-he had
gone to st. Louis, where he had clerked
by day and studied art by night, until,
with $4,000 saved. he had come to New
York and entered the League. He had
spent three years there, and then had
buried himself in the Jersey woods, liv-
ing like hermit in hut of his own
building, and painting from dawn to
dusk. fair days and foul
"And now" he had ended, "they're
beginning to know me. I've sold few
canvases, mostly through Ruyter.
Ruyter believes in me- The thing I'm
working on now is for the academy.
It's going to take year; but it's good,
it's the best / have in me-and it's go
ing to be hung"
ooh, l do hope SOL" she had said,
earnestly.
'I've never doubted it," he had an
swered, simply. ''Its a big stake, but
I'm going to win!"
And SO that first year had passed.
and the second of their friendship was
three months old Beth had not been
so happy for years; the former haunt-
ing sensation of being alone, always.
alone, no longer troubled her She had
friendship had grown on the part of
each into an affection; each would have
denied the existence of anything
stronger
One forenoon-the morrow was The
last day for receiving canvases at TIA
academy-he entered her room, aga
sank silently into his accustomed cha:..
She looked up questioningly from t:ie
silver buckle on which she was worx-
ing
Finished" he said, gloomily.
Does it go to-day?"
Tomorrow; it isn't quite dry YET
l suppose l ought to be glad but''-he
smiled forlornly-"I only feel rather
lonesome" He filled and lighted kis
pipe. ''Do you car" to see it again."
''Oh, yes" she answered, eagerly.
Upstairs he drew aside the yellow
ing cloth, and laid bare the canvas
upon which he had toiled for almost a
year. 1t was large, six feet by four,
and undoubtedly an ambitious effort
for what might be called a first pic
ture, yet the result was so splendid
that the artists faith in its success
seemed justified. He had called it EAU
gust"-a wide, far-reaching expanse of
salt-marsh ribboned with blue, breeze
ruffied water; along the horizon a dim
purple haze, sugge 1tion but no more
of the city; against the clear sky great
white thunder-clouds rolled high upon
each other in MAZE. C grandeur; over
all the hot golden sunlight of midsum-
mer Beth could almost feel the heat
and see the sedges in the foreground
bend and rustic in the sea-breeZe. The
picture always made her hold her
hrooth for ond 70 Jox, tb1 IS