The Fairmont West Virginian. (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1904-1914, 1913-11-27

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sacred soil 81 Carmel, nps even
Ian easel under he pines hsgan to
wish Wardham were painter.
Writer'S can be- more sectetye.
Cones think authots areFsthsr
Ike whales that keep quiet tll3tiey.
are ready to spodt. ResolsingSto be
ready fol emergencies, tried toithinlkl
what speech would be Appropriate to
any kind of celebrity. When will
your next book be out?" was too
specialized. Ttsn I decided On.
what are you working on,row?"
That struck me as rather neat.
In front Of the postoflce | noticed
a man 1 had often seen in the city,
with no thought Of his being a cele
.brity. Iput on a tourist air and ask
led. How far Is 1t to the Mission?"
sAbout a mile-anleasy walk"
"Thank you. What a charming
place this is for skctching, What are
rsu working or
THAT" and he pointed OF through
the trees. Elm Singing Professor
Whites new cottage. That's Professor
White building the fence"
Professor White, whose fame is in.
ternatlonal because he came nearer
to- not seeing the comet than any
other astronomer on the continent!
II / had made one hlunder, had seen
one celebrity thereby. I looked over
the registers Of the two hotels. Ce'
lebrities I found there, some real.
some merely mercerlzed, but no
Woodrow Wardham. The postofice
clerk knew the rules and reeited.
mo information may be given as to
those who receive. MALL"
I'VE have neither sold nor rented
70 w. Wardham," said the clerk in
the real estate Office. To. tell the
truth, l did not want to, find him by
these-every.day methods. An Imitator
reporter would hare used such tactics.
i went back to. the real estate Office.
however, and, asked, Are not there
some noted people in this town. >,
The clerk, spoke as one woul1.
speak Of ,raisins at Fresno or prunesE!,
in the Santa Clara Valley: "Quantli
ties Of. them. There are LapfsHpGg
Wright and Mrs. Augusta Lloyd, the
nuyeilsts, and Sargent West, the
painter, and ever SC many more"
as Mr.. Woodrow Wardham here?"
VERY likely. I never. heard Of him,
though"
! wandered to the beach and stared
6. tho little lines Of white that make
the lay of Monterey appear like n
large blueprint. II | were not a re.
porter with a leaning toward detective
work, l would be a painter. The
beach was somewhat deserted, but
sheltered by h sand.dune right In
front of me sat a painter, hard at
work. A battered paint-box lay at the
foot Of easel. 1t is only the novlees,
thov saw who have new p~aint-boSes.
Was i not quite tourist-like in pausIng
to look at his work?
ITS shockingly hard to get that
nurple light" he explained, almost
rs r. talking TO himself. q want that
roaaction," and he went on with
technical phrases about composition
and texture. a.,
STha sandsduncs hy the sea were
made FOR artists said wika, enthusi.
asm.
"yos iris has has been the ideal place
10 noint mr. to write til. those, scandal.
ons newsnancrs dragged us into their
noIumns Here ,we are lust normal
MANILA who shon]d neither be. b!tied
mr. blamed because we write or paint.
All the world are ,paiuters or, poets,
don.t Won know, only. fortunately, it
NAV ho the nublishers and picture.
buyers have not found it out. IT'S
pity that the newspapers should
thrust a vulgar notoriety upon us"
Two pronns of khaki-clad womcn
nossod. the.a VAS the chatter of sew.
ernl small girls, and a child's voice
shn,tad tnv6rslv. Imnrmured a sent.
oroa ~ .innd -ocOniescence to his
s.I..,. 4,o oh;Id,,