The Montgomery tribune. (Montgomery City, Mo.) 1892-1910, 1907-02-01

the fourth-foor studio had beer taken
The next morning unfamiliar sounds
fell from above--a mans voice, deer
and musical, leaping up and down the
scale, a cheerful, companionable tor
rent of melody that brought a respon'
sive smile to her face.
Next day she had learned his name,
Seeking letters from the pile in the
lower hall, she had found a colorman'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
spoker 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 near 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 and
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, ant the in the
evenings for long, enjoyable talks,
while he sat in her one easy-chair
and smoked and she worked away al
an order or did her mending. Once a
week he descended tremendously,
~immaculately clean. but diffusing a
:strong odor of paint, and took lunch
with her, gravely marveling at the
display and pretended alarm at her
Tecklessness.
Once he had returned her hospital
ity-he had sold a small canvas-and
they had dined sumptuously at one
end of the paint-stained table on lob
.ster outlets and French peas and as
paragus, sent in chilled, but appetiz-
ang, from the cafe across the square.
And he had made marvellous coffee
i'm an old copper kettle. and had pro-
rduced a bottle of olives, which. he sol
-emnly 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. j,
Once they had walked back across
the bridge on a brisk winter night,
the white stars above them, the pur-
ple lamps advancing and meeting
them along their path, and the lemon
and red and green lanterns twink
ling up from boats and p~ier-heads.
That night she had heard his story.
He had told her of a boyhood spent
in a little town in western Missouri,
of his first dim dissatisfaction with
his lot and his growing hatred for
toll in his fathers sQualid general
store;" how at his fathers death-his
mother he had never known-he had
gone to st. Louis, where he had
clerked by day and studied art by
night, until, with $4,000 saved, he had
come to New York and entered the
league. He had spent three years
there, and then had buried himself
In the Jersey woods, living like a her
init, in a hut of his own building, and
painting from dawn to dusk, fair days
and foul.
"And now" he had ended, they're
beginning to know me. I've sold a
few ~canyases, mostly through Ruy-
ter. Ruyter believes in m The
thing I'm working on nov is for the
academy. It's going to take a year;
but it's good, it's the best l have in
me-and it's going to be hung"
"Oh, / do SO hope sol" she had said,
earnestly.
I've never doubted it," he had an
swered, simply. tits a big stake,
but-Tm going to win!"
And SO that first year had passed,
and the second of their friendship
was three months old.
One af~ternoon-the morrow was the
Hast day for receiving canvases at the
academy-he entered her room, INT
sank silently into his accustomed
chair. She looked up questioningly
from the silver buckle on which she
was working. r.
Finished" he said, gloomily.
Does it go tO-day?"
Tomorrow; it isn't quite dry yet.
I suppose / ought to be glad, but"
he smiled forlornly-'T only feel rath-
er lonesome" He filled and lighted
his pipe. do you care to see II
again."
"Oh. yes" she answered, eagerly.
Upstairs he drew aside the yellow.
ish cloth, and laid bare the canvas on
which he had toiled for almost a year.
1t was large, six feet by four, and
undoubtedly an ambitious effort for
what might be called a first picture.
yet the result was SO splendid that