Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1904-10-01
Miss Lindsay's Chef d'euvre

fall in torrent. As lie Guickened his
pace toward the small town mile and
half distant, h. saw OH his left desc
late cottage. the remnant OF row Of
six, with grimy, distempered walls, Il
poverty and decay.
Glad, however, of any port in the
storm, Dubison at once dismounted, rest
ed his bicycle against the wall, and
tapped at the door, which was opened by
short, spare woman of 20. Her face
was thin and furrowed, her hair snowiiy
white, her cotton dress patched and shah
by. but spotlessly clean.
Raising his wet cloth cap as he asked
for shelter, Dubison was hidden to enter.
In the fireplace the flames from a few
sticks OF wood licked the sides of ket-
tie, Oh n deal table was Il small. much
darned napkin, with a cup and saucer.
Clipped plate and Il crust of bread
Perhaps" suggested Dubison, you
could let me have some tear
If SO you could drink it without
milk answered Mrs. Waghorn. who had
only pinch of tea left out of the last
ounce. How she continued to support
existence, even with the small sum of
her weekly outdoor relief, nobody quite
understood; and, indeed, the guardians
had been insisting that her time had
come to enter the wOrkhouSC.
While she watched the kettle, Dubison,
seated on rickety chair, gaZed about
the poverty stricken room, his attention
being presently arrested by Il picture
which hung above the mantelshelf,
thanked by one or two framed daguerreo-
types and mourning cards.
The picture was about two feet in
height by eighteen inches in width. with
a broad maple wood frame; the portrait
Of n quaint looking girl, or s years of
age. plainly clad, with bare feet and long,
straight, thin black hair. Rising from
his chair as Mrs. Waghorn filed a brown
earthenware teapot, Dubison began to ex-
anime the canvas more closely.
Upon my word, p" he muttered, sit looks
uncommonly like Il David Sortain."
Quick of hearing in spite of her age,
Mrs. Waghorn paused with the teapot in
one hand the kettle in the other.
why" she exclaimed, IF that isn't
the name of the gentleman what painted
1T must have been a long time ago
remarked Dubison, with his hands on the
mantel shelf, while he still gazed at the
picture; "Sortain has been dead nearly
twenty-five years.
"Ah. it was more than forty" was the
answer. My dear gal died at 20-the
year we had the scarlet fever so bad"
How did Sortain come to paint your
daughter?" asked Dubison, seeming the
material for an article, as he poured out
his tea.
We used to live further out of town
in those days" she explained; "and we
had bigger cottage in my husbands time
pulled down these many years. One
spring time Mr.. Sortain came quite unbe-
known-just as you've come today-and
asked for lodging. Two months he
= moi al 4, 3. 4. 4
so that we grew friendly like. and before
he went away he took Sarah's portrait,
and it's hung before my eyes ever since"
Above the lower portion of the frame
Dublson fancied he could distinguish the
top of what might prove to be David Sor-
tain's signature, and familiarity with the
masters work convinced him that he had
discovered n specimen of Sortains earlier.
simpler, and better period.
With evident reluctance. Mrs. Waghorn
permitted him to stand ON a chair and re-
move the picture from the wall. where he
found that the canvas was kept in the
frame only by n few long nails After
considerable persuasion, Mrs. Waghorn
consented to their removal, and Mt the
foot of the now frameless canvas, in the
extreme left hand corner, DubiSon saw
the signature with the characteristic flour
ish beneath it. Having replaced the can
vas IN the frame and rehung this above
the mantelshelf. Duhison bestowed a half
crown on his astonished hostess.
You know" he said, you are the
owner of great treasure"
All" she answered. you may well
say that! No one can tell what it's been
to me all these years"
L should think it would be worth close
upon thousand pounds said Dubison.
and Mrs. Waghorn stood on the thresh-
Ola, staring Incredulously after him as he
mounted his bicycle and rode toward the
town. For, although Sarah's portrait
was quite invaluable TO her. Mrs Wag-
horn could not grasp the fact that il
could possibly possess the slightest inter
est for anybody else in the world Re
entering the cottage she already began to
feel vague kind of uneasineSs. as she
put on her bonnet and shawl with the
intention of spending Il portion of Duhi-
son half crown. Sitting. with a strong
cup of tea before her. later the same
evening, her thoughts went back to that
spring time forty years ago. to her hus-
band, to Sarah. and the lodger who
painted out of doors for several hours
each day. and smoked his pipe with John
every evening--a young man who may
have been CleveH but who was certainly
poor, whose name she had not heard
since the morning he left her cottage.
As for nublson, he rode To the best
hotel. and, having dined, sat in a corner
of the smoking room writing a column
describing his visit TO the cottage with
various embellishments and the treasure
therein discovered. 4 few days later a
copy of the journal containing the ar
ticle found its way to Mr. Ruston, the
leading auctioneer of the town. Il guard
ian of the poor, whose watchword was
economy.
The identification Of the cottage and
the old woman was perfectly easy. Dubi-
son having impaired realistic touch To
his story by mentioning the names of
actual places, and. il Mrs Waghorn was
in truth the pOSsesS0r of n genuine David
Sortain, the notion of her admittance 10
the workhOuSe was nothing less than
prepoSterouS, Although Mr. Ruston
might not have been competent to revoc-
niZe such work. he knew it's value as Il
marketable commodity. and. q few hours
after breakfast, intent on the prevention
of gross fraud upon the ratepayerS. he
set out To the cottage.
In replacing the frame, nuhSon had
shifted the DOSifiOu of the nails to alloyv