The vidette. (Iuka, Tishomingo County, Miss.) 1912-1967, 1915-10-28
CHAPTER XII.

The second year Of a new order
brings fewer radical changes than the
first Samson's work began to forge
out of the ranks of the ordinary and
to show symptoms of quality which
would some day give. 1t distinction.
Heretofore his instructors had held
him rigidly to the limitations OF black
and white, but now they took off the
bonds and permitted him the colorful
self from the palette. 1t was like per-
hitting a natural poet to leave prose
and play with prosody.
One day Adrienne looked up from a
sheaf of his very creditable landscape
studies to inquire suddenly:
Samson, are you rich man or a
poor one?"
He laughed. $50 rich" he told her,
"that unless / can turn some of this
stuff into money within year or two
l shall have to go back to hoeing
corn"
She nodded gravely.
Hasn't it occurred to you" she
demanded that in a way you are
wasting your gifts? They we're talk
ing about you the other evening-ser
eral painters. They all said that you
should be doing portraits"
The Kentuckian smiled. His mas
ters had been telling him the same
thing. He had fallen in love with art
through the appeal of the skies aud
hills. He had followed its call at the
PROSECUTING of George Lescott. who
painted only landscape. Portraiture
seemed a less artistic form of express
sion. He said so.
THAT may all be very true" she
conceded, but you can go on with
your landscapes and let your por-
traits pay the way. And" she added,
since l am very vain and moderately
rich, l hereby commission you to
paint me, just as soon as you learn
how"
Farbish had simply dropped out. Bit
by bit the truth of the conspiracy had
leaked, and he knew that his useful
pocketbooks would no longer open to
his profligate demands.
Sally had started to school, She
had not announced that she meant to
do so, but each day the people of Misery
saw her old sorrel mare making it's
way to and from the general direction
of Stagbone college, and they smiled.
No one knew how Sally's cheeks
famed as she sat alone on Saturdays
and Sundays on the rock at the back
bones rift. She was taking her place,
morbidly sensitive and a woman of
eighteen, among little spindle-shanked
girls in short skirts, and the little
girls were more advanced than she.
But she, too, meant to have '1arnin' -
as much of 1t as was necessary to sat
isfy the lover who might never come
And yet, the 'fotched-on" teachers at
the college" thought her the most
voraciously ambitious pupil they had
ever had, so unf1aggingly did she toll,
and the most remarkably acquisitive.
so fast did she learn. But her studies
had again been interrupted, and Miss
Grover, her teacher, riding over one
day to find out why her prize scholar
had deserted, met in the road an
empty "jolt wagon" followed by a
ragged cortege of mounted men and
women, whose faces we're still lugu-
brious with the effort of recent
mourning. Her question elected the
Information that they were returning
from the "buryin'" of the Widow Mil
Ter.
Towards the end of that year Sam
son undertook his portrait of Adri-
enne Lescott. The work was nearing
completion. but it had been agreed
that the girl herself was not to have
a peep at the canvas until the painter
was ready to unveil it in finished
condition. Often. as she posed. Will