The Spectator., 1914-11-20
The Impossible Boy By

You are fond of that bear?" asked Hill.
 T am," replied Pedro. He is my good friend; he is the thing I love most of all" Tell me of your wanderings with him." he asked.
 And Pedro told him. The elder man sat very still as he listened, his chair tilted back against the brick wall, his eyes narrowed to mere slits of light through the blue haze of smoke. What tales these were to which he listened; how they stirred the wanderlust in him.
 Then, too, the fascination of the an. cient and honorable profession of bear though he listened well, every little while came the thought of his lost love, and with it a wave of depression swept over him. With a desperate ef- fort to pull away from it he asked another question.
 W hSic dic youI COIupdillOuS
 Very near the public garden from which we have just come,' responded Pedro. Down the little cobbly street to where the air-railway turns; then in little door, through a court, to an old house with wooden balconies. They await me there"
 How fitting!" murmured Hill How I should like to see them. Would they receive me well?"
 Without a doubt" said Pedro; they recognize friend at once, even as dog or a bear does!"
 I've a mind to go back with you" said Hill jokingly. They must be corkers. That Old Nita. now-what does she look like?"
 "She-why she looks-she looks like Time himself" responded the boy. See, will show you"
 Saying which, he brought out stump of a pencil and a small pad from some recess of his old coat of green.
 This is Nita," said he. turning over several pages, and handing the open book to Hill "Old Nita, and that next is Beau-Jean. scolding Koko.'
 Hill took the proffered papers idly, and suddenly sat very erect, examin- ing them intently.
 Who drew these?" he inquired after moment.
 Why. me, of course" said Pedro.
 For another little space Hill was silent, turning over the sheets in his hand. There were perhaps twenty sketches in the pad. From his scru- tiny of them, he raised his eyes to Pedro. Could the boy be telling the truth? Had he actually drawn these things? They were remarkable Surely such one as had done them would be famous. for work like this was not to be hid easily. Indeed, it was amaz- ingly good. It was the work of a born draftsman. But Pedros face showed no signs of uneasiness. On the con- trary. his eyes were alight as he ex- plained who the people were.
 Do you like my drawings?" asked Pedro. suddenly self-conscious, deep flush spreading over his face and neck.
 Like them!" was all Hill replied, but at the tone of his voice Pedros eyes sparkled.
 'I love to draw people, and lots of people together. and places. And love to draw MT. Jones'"
 Who taught your asked Hill.
 Long ago, when was small. some one taught me every day" said Pedro Then have painted little here and little there. But have yet so much, so much to learn! That is why came here to find studio. that might really learn"
 Privately. Hill was convinced that what Pedro needed was the opportu- nifty. That was all It was remark able, but true. Suddenly he leaned across the little table.
 q suppose you love that bear tre- mendously?" he asked.
 Yes" said Pedro. instantly aware of an impending development.
 More than your art?"
 Pedro laughed. Then he sobered.
 "No," he said. "of course not. l sup pose I would even give him up if need be-and yet he is like my own brother"
 The boys eyes were bright with ex- citement, and the warm color had crept into his face as he spoke. Across the mouth of the man oppo- cita fo him was fha cfamn of O paw born decision.
 Then give him up!" cried Hill. q am painter. Give him to me in ex- change for my studio and all that is in it."