The Morris County chronicle., 1909-09-07
THE PICTURE.
BY MARIA LEIGHTON.

artists which arose in France not
long after his death After the first
inevitable wave of bitter opposition
I to new viewpoint, the young school
was enthusiastically accepted as art.
But this recognition did not some in
the lifetime of Hated Arlington He
was not able to arouse even antago-
nism. He received neither praise nor
blame. His work was simply ignored
The unorthodoxy of the American
artist $50 ran the unconscious
thought of the critics) was not worth
the ink used in attacking it, while
an artistic alteration originating in
France was quite another matter His
last picture represented the conse-
Grated work of months. When com
pleted he knew it was his master
piece, but before the colors were
scarcely dried it was mysteriously
stolen from his studio. A remark
able newspaper article, sensationally
announcing the theft. and describing
the picture with singular sympathy
and appreciation, appeared, but
though it warmed the heart of the
artist. his picture was never recov-
cred. He never completed another
canvas and laid aside all earthly bur
dsns soon after.
1t was one of those cold, easterly
rains that are anathema to the visit
or to our Atlantic coast, but to the
native of these shores are as his life
and blood. In such storms the ocean
breeze, sweeping up over the shipping
and wharves. redolent with tarred
rope and myriad pungent odors
blended together comes to the nos
trils of a sea lover with tang which
stirs his blood as draught of rare
cid vintage warns the veins of the
inhabitant of gentler cline.
A woman. thinly and poorly clad
emerged from the doorway of dwell
ing situated in one of the poor lodg-
ing house districts. She seemed not
to heed the storm, but with the di-
rect, unwavering pace that bespeaks
definite destination, forcing her way
against the wind, she proceeded in
the direction Of the water front.
Turning from one street into anoth-
or she finally entered winding thor
oughfare from whose dingy looking
buildings the gilt balls of the pawn
broker here and there Haunted their
tawfry gilt, acceutuating the shah
biness of the grfmy walls.
A well dressed pedestrian, breast
ing the invigorating gust with the
keen relish of New Englander, had
noticed the woman soon after she
had left her own door, and partly
from curiosity and partly owing to
the natural stirring of sympathy for
her pitiful appearance, and vague
purpose of helping, he had followed
her. With the directness of famil-
iarity she turned into one of the
lark door ways over which was stiff
iy suspended the symbol of the money
lender. Some desperate need had
driven this woman out on a day like
this, and the man unhesitatingly en-
tered the shop after her. An un-
framed picture lay upon the counter.
In the gloom of the unlighted room
IL
gem. His heart leaped as he Instant
Iy recognized the lost picture, the
only surviving work of his fathers
hand
The lynx-eyed pawnbroker took
the picture to the window and care
fully scrutinized it by the dull light,
while Hated Arrington's son studied
the face of the woman. It was e.
fined and honest, and must at one
time have been beautiful. The out
lines had been touched to sharpness
by the gaunt hand of want, and an
gHish of mind had traced its paths
about the mouth and eyes. The pawn
broker returned and offered her a
small sum for the picture. AIRING
ton STEPPED forward before she had
time to answer. II wouldn't give it
up to-day" he said, with a tone of
authority and finality. With a star
tied look the woman yielded and al
lowed the stranger to wrap the pic
ture up, and together they left the
shop.
II will buy it OF you," he said,
Wnen Jney were outside, for some
thing nearer its true value
Through the wet streets they rap
idly wended their way back to the
mean house from which the woman
had come Silently he followed her
to room under the caves.
How did you come by this?" asked
Arlington, gently.
1T was my husbands" answered
the woman
Your husband is
''In a happier world than this,
trust" answered the woman, weep
ing. This picture is the last thing
| have. | am obliged to dispose of it
in order to live. MY husbands faith
or painted 1t. and Dick treasured it
above all else in the world
Dick Arlington! MY wayward
borther!"
The rain beat with steady roar up
on the roof and dashed in sheets
against the window, while the woman
told the story of the stealing of the
picture.
You know Dick idolized his faith
er, although they never could agree.
and he had unswerying faith in his
fathers genius. With his impetu-
GUS Quixotism he conceived the idea
that notriety was the one touch need
ed to get his fathers golden ball Of