Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1907-01-31

movers in the hall, and knew tina.
the fourth-foor studio had been taken.
The next morning unfamiliar sounds
fell from above-a mans voice, deep
and musical, leaping up and down the
scale, a cheerful, com~panionable tor
rent of melody that brought a respon-
sive smile to her face.
Next day she had learned HE name.
Seeking letters from the pile in the
lower hail, she had found a coiorman's
catalogue addressed to John Tim
son, Esq" She had smiled at the
name; Timson was so unusual and
quaint and-funny! John she liked;
her fathers name had been John. All
the morning, as she worked at her
copper bowls and candlesticks, she
strove to picture a personality be-
fitting the name of John Timson.
A week later she saw him.
After that they bowed, and then
spoke. Meetings became frequent.
Aside from the little weakened
dealer in old worries and curl
osities on the first floor, they were
the only occupants of the house
who made it their home. That served
as a bond of sympathy, and they soon
discovered others. They were both
orphans, and both without lear rela'
tives; they were both struggling for
recognition-he as a painter OF land
scapes in oils, she as a worker IN
metals. And then there were minor
sympathies born of similar tastes n
views which came to light in the first
year of their friendship.
1t became his custom to drop into
her room for a moment on his way
up and down stairs, and then in the
evenings for long, enjoyable talks,
while he sat in her one e~asy-chair
and smoked and she worked away at
an order or did her mending. Once a
week he descended tremendously,
Immediately clean, but diffusing a
strong odor of paint, and took unc
with her, gravely marveling at the
display and pretended alarm at Ter
recklessness.
Once he had returned her hospital
ity-he had sold a small canvas-and
they had dined sumptuously at n
end of the paint-stained table on lob
ster outlets and French peas and as
paragus, sent in chilled, but appetite
ing, from the cafe across the square.
And he had made marvellous coffee
in an old copper kettle, and had pro-
duced a bottle of olives, which, he sol
emily declared, had been two years
awaiting the occasion.
Usually he called for her at the
Institute in Brooklyn-she still at
tended an evening class three times a
week-and brought her home.
Once they had walked back across
the bridge on a brisk winter night,
he white stars above them, the pur-
Pile lamps advancing and meeting
hem along their path, and the lemon
and red and green lanterns twink
ing up from boats and pier-heads.
That night she had heard his story.
lie had told her of a boyhood spent
n a little town in western Missouri,
If his first dim dissatisfaction with
lis lot and his growing hatred for
oil in his fathers squalid general
store" how at his fathers death--his
mother he had never known-he had
gene to st. Louis, where he had
,lerked by day and studied art by
light, until, with $4,000 saved, he had
ONE to New York and entered the
eague. He had spent three years
here, and then had buried himself
j the Jersey woods, living like a her
nit, in a hut of his own building, and
ainting from dawn to dusk, fair days
nd foul.
"And now,p he had ended, they're
~.eginning to know me. I've sold a
ew canvases, mostly through Ruy-
er. Ruyter believes in me. The
hing I'm working on now is for the
ycademy. It's going to take a year;
ut it's good, it's the best l have in
1e-and it's going to be hung"
ooh, l do so hope SOL" she had said,
~arnestly.
1--WE never doubted it" he had an.
wered, simply. ITS a big stake,
ut-I'm going to win!"
And SO that first year had passed,
nd the second Of their friendship
as three months old.
One afternoon-the morrow was the
ist day for receiving nva at the
cademy-he entered her room, and
'ank silently into his accustomed
chair. She looked up qu~estioningly
rom the silver buckle on which she
was working.
Finished" he said, gloomily.
Does it go to-day?"
Tomorrow; it isn't quite dry yet.
. suppose / ought to be glad, but"
ne smiled forlornly--"I only feel rath:
or lonesome" He filled and lighted
mis- pipe. do you care to see it
AGAIN."
"Oh, yes" she answered, eagerly.
Upstairs he drew aside the yellow.
lsh cloth, and laid bare the canvas on
which he had toiled for almost a year.
was large, six feet by four, and
undoubtedly an ambitious effort for
might be called a first picture.
yet the result was SO splendid that
artists faith in its success seemed
justified.
He had called 1t August wide.
.Iar-reaching expanse Of salt-marsh