The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1904-05-19
THE DAWN OF
ANOTHER DAY
BY w. w. H I " E S
Copyright, 1904, by Daily Story Pub. Col

1 ID ldleulS are nedNeH-SeHl, Sdlu
Briefly, in a voice which betok-
ened something near akin to awe, but
certainly the man himself is beast"
And this qualifying clause to his opinion
of Randolph, formed that of the whole
of Bohemia. 1t is said that Paul Yer
laine wrote the greatest of his religious
poems-poems that breathe an atmos-
phere of tenderness and purity-when in
slow process of recovery from the effects
of a prolonged course of indulgence in
absinthe and similar brain and moral
destroying drinks.
1t was the other way around with Ran
dolph. For weeks and months he would
labor on some picture, always on some
religious or semi-religious subject
conceived in a spirit of almost super
human tenderness and devotedness, and
upon the completion of the picture he
would enter upon a period of wild de-
bauchery that would bring horror to
even those hardest old roues who knew
him and met him so frequently in that
pleasant land of debatable boundaries
Bohemia.
Those of his acquaintance who met
in the little cafes around Washington
square spoke often of the picture upon
which he was at work. Some of them
had heard Randolph discuss the idea for
the picture, which had its conception in
vision which came to him while lying
upon hospital cot recovering from his
last terrific spree. Others had seen the
picture itself in its unfinished state, al
though Randolph did not encourage Wis
itors to come to his somewhat inacces-
sible studio while he was actually en-
gagged upon a great work, and he was
wont to class all his own paintings as
great works.
The opinions of the acquaintance
were one in form but differently ex-
pressed.
ut will be the greatest thing he has
ever done-as great in its conception as
'Parsifal,' said the First Violin, who
preferred the Munich beer made from
wheat grains.
"It will be the greatest thing he has
ever done-as great in its way as Ra-
fael's Madonna" said the little Italian
landscape painter, with a sigh of regret
that he had not been given by the good
God the gift of welding the brush that
depicts great things.
1T will be the greatest thing he has
done-as great in its way as ToIstoi's
Awakening said the little writer of
prose.
To this the poet, and all the rest of the
Bohemian clique gave their assent, each
IN comparison with some great work in
his own line of artistic endeavor.
And Randolph knew that it was good
alike in conception and execution-this
picture of his, which was to be called
THE Dawn of Another Day"
Trickery, as the followers of the con-
ventional in pictorial art would term it,
he had used freely. 1t was picture of a
soul, and therefore those who cannot
see a soul would call the means he had
used trickery
A woman, beautiful as an angel. but
her face stamped with the mark of sin,
stood by an open window and watched
the dawn come over a range of eastern
hills. Commonplace enough the pic
ture, but Randolph, by some subtle
magic of his own, told all the story plain
ly AS one looked at the picture longer,
one felt its power more. And gradually
one read on the face of the woman a
dawn of that purity which is not born
of ignorance of sin, but of high resolve
to blot it out from life if not from
memory.
1t was a characteristic of Randolph
that he had selected for his model a
woman of the lowest class, a creature
who had been his companion in the de-
baucheries of the spree which had pre-
coded the conception of the picture
That she, his model, loved him, was
nothing to the artist Sir Galahad him
self might not be purer than Beverly
Randolph during the period in which
he was actually at work upon a picture
The woman was to him a model and alb
solutely nothing more. He had been
awake to the fact that she was a woman
who loved him before the picture began
to take shape, and indeed, in his own
way, | think he loved the woman little.
She was more beautiful than most of her