Los Angeles herald., 1906-04-01

WI biki, through the ever-shifting tracery-
work of pines and wild azaleas, you
| lS&&SGaI can see, if you would climb a quar-
| ter of mile, on spring day, stretch
of land that looks more like dream than the
actual solid footstool of God. Behind you the
city of Kobe fumes, roars, kicks up dirt and
filth in the eyes of the goodnatured sun and
smears his bright face From the height you
could also spy a straw-thatched cottage buried
in the yellow of the rape.
That was her home; there we saw her. Her
environment common-her dress, her cot
tage, the people about her-yes, the people es-
peciay. But all these common things, because
of her, seemed to if l them on the
canvas of Millet or Rembrandt. She was part
of the landscape, and if we say of the ensemble
that it is just like picture, I do not know
whether the Higher Artist would take it a
compliment or not.
Describe her? Better ask me to petrify dream
Her lips? Oh-one folds his hands on his left
side when he speaks of them. Her eyes? All,
well!
Not satisfied with her success in this, her
fair masterpiece, Nature placed her in the rustic
surroundings to heighten all the charms of the
girl through the touch of that potent magician
called surprise. Yes candidly, I was surprised,
and so was Mr.. Sidney White, who with
me. Mr.. White is an American who has spent
more years of his life in Paris and abroad than
under the roof of his mother. He was an ar
tist-an artist who, as he confded to me once
was trying his best to fall as much in love with
a woman he was with art Take my word
for it, he had that something that goes into
the making of a true artist that all-absorb
ing something which made him by turns fool
and god; he had that idolatrous alteration for
the beautiful that contempt of everything COM
mon. In order to picture his meeting with the
girl you must fancy artist facing art made
flesh and beating in womans heart In ad
dition to this, you must take into account that
poignant sense of surprise keen as that of
a man who finds a diamond in the dirt.
O Tome was her name o Tome became an
object of study to Sidney. Then, short time
afterwards, the object of study-not only ar
tistic but also From the very start o Tome
was thing Of beauty to him, and in the course
of time joy forever as well. When, there
FORE about month afterwards I went UP to
his studio 1 was not surprised to see it con-
verted into huge multifaced mirror of o Tome
every pose of her figure, every expression of
her features, the innumerable blendings of her
MANY moods, were caught in all the conceivable
cunning OF colors.
cam 1 really as pretty as that, Whitesan?"
every, very much more beautiful, mademo
sele!"
"And my hair-and oh, but my eyes, are they
softly dreaming as they are yonder?"
"That? Why, that is nothing but shadow;
that is nothing but picture, like picture
on a temple wall-a picture of goddess, you
know. One can look at a picture, not the
goddess-the original is too dazzling!"
| o Tome who not sure whether she un-
derstood this poetic ambiguity of the artist,
smiled as if to say '@The best thing I can do
for you is to pretend that I believe all that you
say"
''But really, White-san, does your humble maid
please her master, them"
| "Eush sweet one; you should rather say that
YOUR slave worships his ideal"
| They laughed at each other, and the cherry
blossoms were blushing outside.
III
| "What do you think I have found now, old
MANI" he asked me one day as he burst into
my den. Dropping my brush at the suddenness
of his entry and interrogation, I answered:
"Hello! you? Why, I have not the slightest
idea"
"Well, she is not only beautiful study but
she is as bright as Buddha's eyes-I mean her
mind. You ought to come and see her."
| eyes, / found out that she had learned many
an English word.
"Say the first sentence / taught you for us,
| o Tomesan," White said in Japanese.
| Then the olive velvet of her cheeks became a
warmer color, and smile made her lips bios
som like an opening bud. Then slowly she
said: