The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1908-03-27
The Little
LaundreSS
BY Zoe, Anderson Norris
0CopyrIght.l.

clifford was waiting for his laundry.
That was. how he happened to see her
nrst. The clerk was busy turning over
package after package in his search
Tor the one bearing Clifford's name.
lie returned the little laundress'
glance with quick flash Of admira-
uon, she WIS so pretty so unusually
pretty, with SO pathetic an expression
IN her big blue eyes. His glance swept
across the ironing-room filled with
laundry girls of every age and descrip-
uon. Many of them were fairly pref
", but none of them came up to his
little laundress for real beauty. She
shone amongst them like a gem.
Is this your bundle?" asked the
clerk.
Clifford looked long at the name,
written seemingly in hieroglyphics
Yes" said he, discovering at last
some letters that reminded him dimly
OF MS, own name, and he still re-
named after the clerk had counted
out his change, looking at the pretty
little laundress, patiently ironing away
at the linen of worthless fellows like
himself. Perhaps she had ironed his
own. He took up the bundle tenderly.
1t had suddenly become precious to-
him.
Her face haunted him How pretty
she was! Entirely too pretty to work
as she did. Heavensl Couldn't she
find some easier work than that? To
think of standing on ones feet all
day long day after day ironing! He
could hardly imagine anything more
tiresome.
In his studio, he found himself con-
stantly drawing her face on bits Of
paper with pencil. Failing in CATCH
ing the likeness, he tore up these lit
tie papers. and made numerous,
sketches of her in black and white,
the lifelessness of which Knocked at
the beauty of her features. In the,
course of time the studio came to be.
strewn with these Indifferent sketches.
and still he had failed to catch the
features of the laundress in, their,rsre-
perfection.
May | ask who 1T is?" said his
friend Wonderly, who in the interim
of his law studies made Clifford's stu
dio his loafing place.
my IDEAL" answered Clifford short
ly, and indeed by this time that is,
what the little laundress had become.
One evening as he Stood on the corr
ner opposite the Iaundry-it had be-
come a. habit Of his lately to haunt
those corners morning and evening
worshiping her from afar-she APP
peared at the door and glanced up at
the clouds. With her blue eyes raised
thus, he thought she had the look of
a madonna.
He followed her at discreet dis
tance, absorbed in the pearliness Of
her skin, and the witching curls that
hung clingingly to her white neck.
Was there ever anything. so exquis-
lite.
Meanwhile the laundress walked
briskly into narrow street, and low
ering her umbrella, entered cottage
exactly like every other cottage in the
row, neat, square and covered with
morning glories. Losing her thus,
Clifford turned back and went home,
to his studio, where in the waning
light he tried in vain to reproduce her
face. 1t eluded him like will-o'-thes
wisp. He squeezed out color after
color again and again, mixing In
rushfuls rather than with the knife
to avoid muddying. but careful as he,
was, the colors were not to be COM
pared with the transparent beauty of
her skin as he remembered it. He
mixed the blue of her eyes with the
carnation of her chicks, but failed to
reproduce the faint purple beneath
her eyes. He found his ochres too,
chromish. There was no yellow in his
paint box the color of her hair, which !
young children, pure gold, beautiful
all his alchemist art failed to produce.
anything like it.
He tossed his brushes aside in des.
pair, and fiinging himself in a chair
by the window, leaned out. The rain
fell silently like tears. The smell of
the wet grass rose gracefully to his |
window, mingled with the odor Of a
he'd of mignonette on the plot be-
meath. These tranquil doors and the
calm of the quiet night failed to quell
his restlessness and disappointment.
He had made miserable failure. He
was always making miserable fail |
ures. He wondered if all artists
grieved over their mistakes as ne did.
He began to wish that he had chosen.
some other occupation in life.
At that moment, natty bank clerk