Connecticut western news., 1911-02-16
A Strange Case The Artist and the Pictures
 of Mystery By CARROL H. PIERCE Copyright by American Press Asso-
 citation. 1911.
By CARROL H. PIERCE

am an artist. Being in poor health my doctor ordered me abroad, and went to Florence, Italy.
 rented rooms of a widow and her daughter, of the name of Micele. They occupied the top floor of building on the river Arno. used front room for a studio and a rear room for a bed room. The mother was a middle aged woman, the daughter about twenty five. Their ancestors had been we'll off. but their estate had melted away. and Sonora Micele and her daughter got on with difficulty. Blanca, the daughter, was an artist but ar indif ferent one.
 Nevertheless there was something remarkable about Blanca Micele She was neither pretty nor homely. The eyes of the Italians are handsome. but Senorina Micele's eyes were more than handsome; they were, so to speak compelling. That Is, when she looked out of them at me I felt strange force compelling me to do her bidding Not that there was apparent exercise of will She was gentleness itself. The power she exercised was rather per suasive than forceful.
 Not long after 1 arrived in Florence fell i'll and did not leave my bed for weeks. Sonora Micele and her daugh- ter both nursed me.
 A portion of the time was in either a stupor or delirium, I don't know which. At such times 1 was very weak and on coming to myself usually felt as if I had been doing exhaustive work, though 1 had been in my bed all the while. where 1t would not have been possible for me to do any work even if 1 had been mentally capable. My illness occurred during the win ter, and when the spring, came on and ! the weather began to warm up Sonora Micele used to put me in an easy chair and wheel me out on to one of those little balconies common /in Florence houses. We were on the Arno em- bankment the Lung Arno. they call 1t there), in sight of the green hills that surround the city. Indeed, from my balcony I could see some six or seven miles distant the heights on which Fiosole. the original Florentine settle ment, was made. During three more months l spent much of the day on this balcony in fancy painting pictures of the scenes spread out before me. One of these was the undulating plain beyond the city's edge and the heights of Fiosole beyond the plain. There is big clock tower at Fiosole which 1t seemed to me would make an attrac tive feature in my imaginary picture, and l spent hours working it in. An other view I dreamed of was the Arno, directly beneath me, winding under its arched bridges toward the south, and other nearer and consequently greener hills. There is something in the atmosphere of Italy to intensity the color of a landscape, and on such days l delighted in the imaginative painting I could not do in reality. But 1 always noticed that such days instead of giving me strength drew upon what I had.
  hot weather set in and after convalesc- ing in the invigorating climate of the Swiss Alps went to Paris. where re- mained some time.
 Strolling one day down one of the Parisian boulevards, I stepped into picture shop. The dealer, fancying to make a customer of me, advanced and questioned me as to what I was look ing for. It occurred to me to ask for one of my own pictures, not that 1 ex- pected to find one but that to ask for the work of any special artist would make 1t appear that was not looking at his wares with no intention of buy ing
 Have you anything of Adrian l Giles?" asked.
 Giles. the American|'
 "Yes."
 Certainly. have a very remark able piece of his work. Come this way"
 He led me to one of his display rooms and up to a picture that had evidently been hung with considera- ble care The subject was certainly i IdHllllaT lO lIe. LOT II WAS 'He I'l'tlu had overlooked at Florence with the 1 hills and Fiosolc in the distance. And as I stood looking at 1t I recognized not only the identical scene had painted in my day dreams. but my in- dividual style Quickly bending to the lower left hand corner. a cap was put i upon my astonishment by seeing my | own name.
 I caught with both hands at the rail that extended around the room to guard the pictures. Here WAS a view ! I had no remembrance of presenting, but which I must have painted. It was some time before recovered suf- ] f1cient equanimity to further examine l the painting, but when l did so I saw at once that for the first time in my l life I had portrayed a scene exactly as I saw it. What I mean Is that il possessed all the reality and beauty | with which my imapinati had on