Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-05

What the great yearning desire that rooted in
this old man breast like the mountains in the earho
nNE night, as lay half asleep during storm that
forced me to remain the mountaintop, he began
to speak of ancient and hearbreakng things, and the
mystery of him mingled with instant meaning:
at the evening of Saint Johns Feast. Al
ways then we light big fires all the hills; each be-
comes altar, torch to God The sweet Ami and |
up together to build the fire the Pilgersberg.
Ours the taest blaze and the brightest. Just So
said Ami is our love-a fire in the heavensi We
kissed, and then stood staring for space at the far off
>beacons She passes behind me and the fire to fling
more fir boughs and then. blinded by the blaze she
steps off the edge of the precpce up there and falls
her death. take burning branch and follow down
the black gorge and carry her back the fire. She
opened her eyes again and in the dawn she died Then
my back carry her blessed body down to NIitten-
thai, so it mil ht be sunk in holy ground Then climb
the Plgersberg again to fling myself down from the
brink she fell from. But when to the fire it
still snoderng slow at the bottom of the thickes logs.
The fire seemed to say to Lve cast ashes upon
my head and took and built hearth and put red
Goals upon them. These | tended day and night and
began to this house about them The fire has
gone out 1t lives from the moment she last tended it.
When it goes out l shall go too. On Saint Johns
Eve, Ami always to help me build the beacon
from the old fire of our love. Here the mountain l
dwell to her Angels to lead her to out
of the suns at morning and evening"
TT beautiful" cried Peter the painting grew apace
Revereny he bore into his little house every night.
spent three days at Nlitenthal, during which did
not make my daily ascent of the Pilgersberg. The
morning of my return Peter came to me- a glow upon
his face, full of news he eager to impart
Folk have been here" he whispered, "from Mer-
valid, stranger folk. The first day two men and two
women the second day the two women, the third day
On1y he he e1d Thatua thrica
that she came and twas not to the view gossip
with me- 1t was to see your picture, my SON. She sat
before it for on two hours. You not vexed
hope for she sweet, seemly woman, not like the
brazen tongue threshers that often come sad
too, should say She asks what sort of you were;
but l would only say, "A young man, Madam,
with gray hair
alt is his work! 1t is his work. heard her
say.
"'And when will the artist come again. she
asks.
Il told her on what days you came up from Nit
tenthal to work here
@'Then l will come sometimes on the other
days says she, until the picture is finished"
The thought that beautiful and unknown eyes
thus scanning my work, that this odd woman
should climb this difficult peak to look upon it SO
often and always when was not present, began
to work nightly within When Peter told me
that the lady from Merwad had wept she stood
before the canvas felt strange old force begin
to thrill freshly in me- 1t was then as if painted
this picture not for Trowbrdge, but rather for her,
for this unknown creature whom | almost
afraid to encounter lest all that was ideal in the
situation impulse, and suggestion should sink at
to the commonplace
burst of my former inspiration upon
me- 1t was almost as if my mysterious visitor had
poured something of new faith and hope into the
coors on the canvas-and as if the canvas gave it
back to l knew by deep and innate instinct
that once more working in the grand man
ner. that the old power and insight had come back