The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-02-26
HOneWard Bound
BY RALPH R. LATlMER.
Downright by the S. $. Mcclure Co,

lbout to happen, and he felt instant
w that he had anticipated it from
he first. He waved his hand, how
1 yer, and called out his cheerful FLOW
L re YOUR" at some distance, quick
ming his pace at the same time. Web
| ter met him with evident embarrass-
| ment, and said at once:
l. Gould you come to my place this
fternoon? | would take it very kind
of you. l want your opinion of
omething I've been doing"
"Of course I'll come" said Mar
hail. Something for the Salon, l
| )reSume?'
''Why. yes assented Webster.
| It's a matter of some Importance to
| ne. and there is no one l would care
! O ask except you-no one / know
o WELL I'll expect you there about
if that is convenient; No. 20 Rue
| 0auphine."
| VERY WE'LL" answered Marshall.
md they turned into the atelier.
The Rue Dauphine is an obscure
| title street. the houses of which
! rave, for the most part a sOrdid APP
,earance, and at one of the worst
/ MARSHALL stopped. AS there was no
/ sign of a concierge Marshall, after a
| 'eW minutes hesitation, began to
| mount the stairs. He had reached the
| irst landing and was peering about
! him when Il door opened and webster
! looked out.
81 was afraid you might have miss
| ed the place so / was Keeping Il
watch for you he explained, with
his nervous laugh This way,
/ please"
Entering, Marshall found himself
! n Il room of the poorest description
/ The floor was tiled, and the tiles we've
| lamp and broken; q small stove was
| burning in one corner and q smell of
! cooking pervaded the place. 4 mar
row iron bed, covered with q coarse
! brown blanket, ran along one side of
I the room; the window was large, but.
! looking full to the north. admitted no
ray of sunshine, and number of
broken chairs and cheap table COM
posed the furniture. Marshall was
too we'll trained in the etiquette OF
Bohemia to have any doubt as to
what he should 90. He seated him.
self on the bed and glanced about
him.
What a cozy little place you have"
he remarked, with smile-"cozy"
being q euphemistic expression APP
piled in Bohemia to any room which
is small and overheated.
"But where's the great work." he
81 keep it next door, to be away
from the dust" said Webster. "I'll
get it,
/ He disappeared. and Marshall, with
a quick movement of his hand, felt
the mattress. "Straw," he calculated
"and egg shells III the coal hod-sure
signs of self-respecting poverty"
The door opened and Webster re-
turned, bearing an unframed canvas
In silence he placed 1t on chair and
then took his seat at the other end
of the bed, his eyes fixed on Mar
shall's face. The picture was not
really of large proportions, but. seen
under these circumstances it appeared
to fill the room. 1t was i stormy
marine piece. treated in n conVen-
tional manner and atrociously i'll
executed In the distance, outlined
against lurid sunset, black vessel
was being beaten against some rocks.
in the foreground the figure o. q
drowned mariner was extended on the
sand. while a number of birds. which
from their size could only have been
| flock of albatrosses, were scattered
! about in various parts of the pic
lure. The drawing was inaccurate
/ throughout. the color dirty and UNI
natural, the touch and execution fee
! BILE and uncertain.
All this Marshall perceived at a
| glance, but he continued to gaze, half
closing his eyes and making a tele
scope with his hand.
II want you to be perfectly frank
| with me- said Webster at last. ''It
| you think it can't possibly get in. 1
| want you to tell me so. and then,
| you see, needn't spend on my frame.
! So"--his voice shook little-"I hope
/ you'll say just what you think" lie
| paused again a moment. ",rhe color
/ has sunk in some" he added visit
| fully ut will look better when it's
vanished" and, bending forward, he
| rubbed the canvas tenderly with his
noistened finger.
Marshall, meanwhile, was going
/ through an inward debate. Would 1t
| not be better TO tell the truth courte-
| ously but decisively? Would it not
! be really the kindest thing to do? To
| say anything else seemed impossible.
/ His mouth was opening for his first
sentence when Webster. who had been
; looking az the floor, began to speak
again with a fiurried rush of words.
| II want to tell YOU" he said, $50
you can understand about 1t. | know
: haven't had much training. but I
was always very fond of art. l work
| ell in a photographers place in Boon
vile. l used to color the prints some
| times, and | made some crayon -por-
! traits of our prominent citizens, anu
SO / saved up some-not much. There
was fellow came through the town.
| he said Paris was the place for art
| and just then my mother got q little
| money left her-her brother died
and she was just wild for me to go to
Paris for year, and so ] came. May
| be it was selfish of me, Tor / left my
mother all alone, and she's pretty ole.
| but | sorter felt / had to come. Now
| I'm here, / see the great thing is to
| get into the Salon. That man home
said so. too.
81 went last year, and there did
seem, to be some things not any bet
| ter than mine''--he looked up for the
| first time-"and SO / thought I'd try.
think a man should have confidence
/, in himself he added after a pause.
clasping and unclasping his thin
| hands nervously. ''and / didn't mean
| to say anything TO any one, but I've
/ kinder lost my grip. / guess I'm not
quite well, for felt I must speak to
you. 1t will be great thing for me
1 If I pet in-thpV'Il think n LOT of me