Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1912-08-01


ssYes.'
Didn't wait to introduce himselfi.'
No
And stammered and blushed with
guilt as he sneaked away?''
4 think It was with guilt,
OF course it was Clara, that man
had poisoned somebody's well and
was fleeing from justice. Don't you
pay any attention to what he said.
That painting is going to have q 81
frame and hang In the parlor op-
posite Napoleon Crossing the Alps =
But haven't got the cows eyes
.wrong asked the artist. Should
one OF them be looking up and the
other down ?'' 5s## .5. .s /, 3ss}
They should, dearie. That's what
first made me think you were born
artist. I've watched cows d q thou
sand times. They always keep one
eye on the grass and roll the other
up as II thanking heaven for the
fodder. Don't you worry about her
eyes''
But what was the young man 70
Ing to criticize II / hadn't stopped
him o. III u =. AZ s
Land only knows! When a per-
son is mean enough to poison a fami-
" we'll you can't tell what he will
say or do next. At first I thought
the cows tail might be too long, but
then remembered that 1t must be In
fly time she was painted. You just
chirk right up and forget that villain.
II was you I'd start new picture
tomorrow. .
But Miss Clara didn't. There were
several doubts in her mind now, and
she didn t agree with her grand
mother about the young man being
well-poisoner and an unhung VII.
lain. AS she remembered his face
1t was attractive and interesting, with
not line Of vil1ainy IN 1t. Thus
when she went forth next afternoon
It was not to sketch, but to think az
she walked. She, didn't climb Thorn
T apple hill, but skirted it, and BY and
!. by she came to 3 brook and. turned 10
the left to look for crossing.
Mr.. Burt Delevan was again look.
ing for ! blackbirds. His encounter
with the artist on Thornapp1e hill the
day before had left him rather D hu.
!, inflated. He therefore strolled IN.
other way, yet all the time hoping for
another meeting. He had his nerve
with him now and he was sure he
could put the case In such light that
he would be forgiven.
Say! Say! Help! Help!'
Mr.. Delevan threw aside his gun
and plunged through q thicket to md
himself on the bank Of creek.
Standing in the shallow water, which
reached her knees and was bubblina
higher, was the girl artist.
IT'S quicksand, you see,'' she er
J planned, as the young man stood
| staring.
/ Being in the real estate business
which includes all kinds of soils, Mr.
Delevan knew just what to do in case
! ct quicksand, and he did it. It was
a hard tug, but at length a muddled
!, and bedraggled figure stood on the
/ bank beside him. Not word had
been spoken during the rescue. None
was spoken now as the girl was as
sisted home and left in the arms Of
/ her grandmother at the back door.
1t was two weeks later before there
!, was any conversation a stenographel
you'd have thought worth her pot
] hooks. Then Miss Clara asked hel
. grandmother:
DO you think will ever make an
artist?"
| No, DON'T" was the prompt an
I 5wer. THAT Mr.. Delevan has called
ere seven times since he hauled you
It of the quicksand, and if know
.aTthing about apple sass it won't
5a more'n seven times more before
d 10Th of you will be so head over heels
/ n love that painting will go to pot!'