Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-10-04
A Service Of Love
BY O. HENRY |
Illustrated With Drawing by
Dom j. LAWN, the Famous
American Artist.


When one loves ones art no service
seems too hard.
That is our premise. This story
shall draw a conclusion from it and
show at the same time that the
premise is incorrect. That will be a
new thing in logic and a feat in
storytelling somewhat older than the
great wall of China.
Joe Larrabee came out of the post
oak flats of the Middle West pulsing
with a genius for pictorial art. AT
six he drew a picture of the town
pump with a prominent citizen pass
ing it hastily. This effort was framed
and hung in the drug store WINDOW
by the side of the ear of corn with an
uneven number of rows. At twenty
he left for New York with flowing
necktie and a capital tied up some
what closer.
Della Caruthers did things in six
octaves so promisingly in a pine-ree
village in the South that her rela-
tives Clipped in enough in her chip
hat for her to go North and mn
ish." They could not see her r
but that is our story.
Toe and Della met in the atelier
where
dents had gathered to discuss CHA
roscuro. Wagner, music, Rembrandts
works. pictures, Waldteufel, wall pa
per. Chopin and Oolong.
Joe and Della became enamoured
one of the other. or each OF the other,
as YOU please, and in short tlme
were married-for (see aboVe) when
one loves ones art no service seems
too hard.
Mr.. and Mrs. Larrabee began house.
Keeping in a fiat. 1t was lonesome
Aat-something like the A sharp way
down at the left-hand end of the key
board. And they We're happy for
they had Art. and they had each
other. And my advice to the rich
Young man would be-sell all thou
hast, and give it to the poor-janitor
for the privilege of living in a HAT
with your Art and your Della.
Flat dwellers shall indorse my die
tum that theirs is the only true hap
piness If a home is happy it cannot
fit 100 close-let the dresser collapse
and become a billiard table; let the
mantle turn to a rowing machine, the
escr' toire to a spare bedchamber the
washstand to an upright piano; let
the four walls come together, II they
will so you and your Della are be
tween. But if home be the other
kind, let it be wide and long-enter
you at the Golden Gate, hang your
hat on Hatteras, your cape on Cape
Horn and go out by the Labrador.
Joe was painting in the class of the
great Magister-you know his fame.
His fees are high; his lessons are
1ight-his high-lights have brought
him renown. Della was studying
under Rosenstock-you know his re-
pute as disturber of the piano keys.
They were mighty happy as long as
their money lasted. So is every-but
/ will not be cynical. Their aims were
very clear and defined. Joe was to
become capable very soon of turning
out pictures that old gentlemen with
thin side whiskers and thick pocket
books would sandbag one another in
his studio for the privilege of buying.
Della was to become familiar and
then contemptuous with Music, so
that when she saw the orchestra
seats and boxes unsold she could
have sore throat and lobster in
private dining room and refuse to go
on the stage.
But the best, in my opinion. was
the home life in the little fiat-the
ardent, voluble chats after the days
study; the coy dinners and fresh,
light breakfasts; the interchange of
INSTRUMENTATION interviewer each !
with the others or else inconsiderable
the mutual help and inspiration;
and-overlook my artlessness-stuffed
olives and cheese sandwiches at IL
.. m.
But after a while Art tagged. 1t
sometimes does, even if some switch /
man doesn't flag it. Everything going |
out and nothing coming in, as the
vulgarians say. Money was lacking |
to pay Mr.. Magister and Herr Rosen- /
stock their prices. When one loves
ones Art no service seems too hard. /
So, Della said she must give music !
lessons to keep the chatting dish bub- |
bling.
For two or three days she went
out canvassing for pupils. One eve
ming she came home elated.
Zoe, dear" she said gleefully, J
"I've a pupil. And, oh, the lowell /
est peoplel General-General A. B. |
Pinkney's daughter-on Seventy-first
street. Such a pleasant house. Joe, /
you ought to see the front door! |
And inside Oh, Joe, I never saw
anything like it before!
"My pupil is his daughter Glenn
entina. 1 dearly love her already.
She's a delicate thing-dresses al
ways in white, and the sweetest, |
simplest manners. Only eighteen
years old; I'm to give three lessons
week; and just think, Joe, IS a
lesson. l don't mind it a bit, for
when I get two or three more pupils
can resume my lessons with Herr
RosenstocB. Now, smooth out that
wrinkle between your brows. dear,
and let's have a nice supper"
That's all right for you, Dele
said Joe, attacking a can of peas with
a carving knife and a Ratchet, but
how about me? Do you think I'm