Iron County news. [volume] (Hurley, Wis.) 1913-1950, 1915-01-30
CHAPTER V-cortinued.


The two men had lost an hour
hudded under a canopy beneath the
cannonading of a sudden storm. They
had silently watched titanic battalions
of thunder clouds riding the skies in
gusty purs OF gale and raking the
earth with lightning and hail and
water
My Cod" exclaimed the mountain
boy abruptly ia give anything ef
could paint that"
Lescott rose smilingly from his seat
before the easel and surrendered his
palette and sheaf of brushes.
Try it," be invited
For a moment Samson stood besl-
tant and overcome with diflldence;
then. with set lips. he took his place
and experimentally fitted his fingers
about the brush as he had seen Les
colt do He asked no advice He
merely ga2ed for a while. and then.
dipping a brush and experimenting for
his color went to sweeping In his pri-
mary toncs Samson. even though he
was hopelessiy daubing. and knew 1t,
was sincere, and the painter at his
elbow caught his breath and looked on
with the absorption Of "a prophet, who,
listening TO childish prattle. yet recOg-
mics the gift OF prophecy
"Thets the way hit looks ter me"
the boy said, simply.
That's the way it is" commended
his critic
For while more Samson worked
at the nearer hills. then he rose
I'm done, he said "hain't a-goin
ter fool with them thar trees an
things I don't know nothing erbout
tibet can't paint leaves an twigs
an blrdsnests What / like Is noun
tines an skIes an sechIike things
Lescott looked at the daub before
him. A less trained eye would have
seen only the daub. just as a poor
Judge Of horsenesh might see only
awkward joints and long legs in
weanling colt. though II be- bred in the
purple
Samson" he said. earnestly. that's
all there is 20 art It's the power to
feel the poetry OF color The rest can
be taught The genius must work, of
course work, work, work. and st.ll
work, but the gift is the power OF
seeing true-and. by God. boy. you
have t. ou've got what many men
have struggled a lifetime for. and
failed Id like to have yoa study with
me. ia like TO be your discoyere~
Look here
The painter sat down, and speedily
went to work He painted out moth
ing He simply toned. and, with pre-
cisely the right touch here and there.
softened the crudcness. laid stress on
the contrast. melted the harshness.
and when he rose, he had built. upon
the rough cornerstone OF Samson
laying, a picture.
THAT proves g." he said Il had
only to finish l didn't have much to
undo. Boy you're wasting yourself.
Come with me, and let me make you.
We all pretend there is no such thing,
In these days. as sheer genius: but
deep down. we know that, unless there
is, there can be no such thing as true
art There is genius and you have
H." Enthusiasm was again sweeping
him into an unintended outburst.
The boy stood silent Across his
sountenance swept conflict OF emo
ions He looked away. as II taking
counsel with the hlils
It's what I'm a-honin' fer" he ad-
mitted at last, Hits what I'd give
half my life fer, ! mout sell
my land, an raise the money.
reckon hit would take passels Of
money, wouldn't hit7" He paused and
his eyes fell on the rifle leaning against
the tree His lips frightened in sudden
remembrance. He went over ard
picked up the gun. and. as he did so,
he shook his head
no stolidly declared; every
man 10 Hs own tools. This here =
mine
Yet when they we're again out
sketchjug the temptation TO play with
brushes cnCe more seized him. and he
took his place before the easel
Neither he nor Lescott noticed man
who crept down through the timber
and for a time watched them. The
mans face wore surly. contemptuous
grin and shortly II withdrew.
But an hour later. while the boy
was sim CDrCng industriously and
the artist was lying on his back, with
a pipe letwSen his teeth, and his half
closed eyes gazing up contentedly
throush the green OF overhead
branches. theSf peace was broken BY
q guraw Of derisive laughter They
is' ked up. 70 and at their backs 8 semi