The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1915-02-18
CHAPTER TX.

WAB bItLluB eiOuo OolOto tu0 tOBb. OH
laid down the slate and spelling book
over which her forehead had beer
Atrenuously puckered, and gazed some
what mournfully into the blaze. Sally
had a secret. II was secret which she
based on a faint hope. II Samson
should come back to Misery he would
come back full Of new notions Nc
man had ever yet returned from thai
outside world unaltered. No man ever
would. A terrible premonitlon said he
would not come at ALL but, II he did
II he did-she must know how to read
Ind write, Maybe, when she had
learned little more, she might even
80 to school for term or two.
The cramped and distorted chirog-
raphy on the slate was discouraging
1t was all proving very hard work. The
girl gazed for time at something she
saw In the embers. and then a faint
smile came to her lips. BY next Christ
mas she would surprise Samson with a
letter 1t should be well written, and
every "hain't" should be an isn't"
The normal human mind is res
ervoir which fills at rate OF speed
regulated by the number and caliber
OF its feed pipes Samson's mind had
long been almost empty. and now from
so many sources the waters OF new
things were rushing In upon It that
under their pressure 1t must fill fast.
or give away.
He was saved from hopeless com
,plications OF thought by sanity
which was willing to assimilate with
out too much effort to analyze. The
boy from Misery was presently less
bizarre TO the eye than many OF the
unkempt bohemians he met In the life
OF the studios. men who quarreled
garruiously over the end and aim OF
Art. which they spelled with capi-
tai A-and. for the most part. knew
nothing Of He retained. except with
I'm a small circle OF intimates. silence
that passed for taciturnity, and
solemnlty of visage that was often
construed into surly egotism.
Ilt btlli NOlt uib Hdll iOukG anu
though his conversation gradually
sloughed on much of its idiom and
vulgarism, enough OF the mountaineer
stood out to lend to his personality
SAVIOR OF the crudely picturesque.
Meanwhile he drew and read and
advancement was forced march.
Lescott. tremendously interested In his
experiment. began to fear that the
boys too great somberness OF dispo-
Isition would defeat the very earnest.
mess from which It sprang. So one
morning the landscape-maker called
on friend whom he rightly believed
70 be the wisest man, and the great.
est humorist In New York.
II want your help" said Lescott.
Fl want you to meet friend Of mine
and take him under your wing In
fashion. He needs you"
The stout mans face clouded. A few
years ago he had been ped6ling his
with the heart-slckness of
middle age. Today men
coupled his name with those OF Kip
ling and De Maupassant. One OF his
antipathies was meeting people who
sought to lionize him. Lescott read
the expression. and, before his host
had time to object, swept into his re-
cital
At the end he summarized:
THE artist is much like the setter
pup II It's in him. it's as instructive |
MS a dogs nose. But to become etfi- |
cient he must go a-field with steady
veteran of his own breed"
Il know" The great man. who was
also the simple man. smiled reminis-
Gently. They tried TO teach me to
herd sheep when my nose was itching
for bird country. Bring on your man;
| want to know him"
Samson was told nothing OF the be-
nevolent conspiracy. but one evening
shortly later he found himself sitting
AZ cafe table with his sponsor and /
q stout man. almost as silent as him
self The stout man responded with /
something like churlIsh taciturnity /
to the hslf-dozen men and women who 4
came over with batteries. But later,
when the THO was left alone, his face
and be turned 20 the boy !
from Misery.
Does Billy Conrad stiI keep store
1T 6tagtsone%
Eamsou started and his gaze fell in 4
amazeDent- Al the mention OF the 4
name he saw Z crossroads store With 4
rough mules hitehed TO fence pa1ings. !
Is was q picture Of horne, and here was I
b man who had been there, With 4
glowing eyes the boy dropped unoo1,
seiously back Into the yeraacular Of
the hills.
''5dev ye been thar, stranger
The writer nodded, and slipped MS
whisky.
sNet for some years though, he
ponfessed, rs he brasted into remants-
pence, which TO Samson was atks US,
t<,r TO a perchad fhreAf