The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1915-06-03

hills. He had followed its call at the
PROSECUTING Of George Lescott, who
painted only landscape. Portraiture
seemed 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
ness was ended and that well-lined
pocketbooks would no longer open to
his profligate demands.
r +
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 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 "larnin' -
as much of it 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 unfiaggingly 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 were 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
fred Horton idled in the studio with
them, and often George Lescott came
to criticize, and left without criticiz.
ing. The girl was impatient for the
day when she, too, was to see the pic.
ture, concerning which the three men
maintained so profound secrecy. She
knew that Samson was painter who
analysed with his brush, and that his
picture would show her not only fea.
estimate of herself.
"Do you know" he said one day
coming out from behind his easel and
studying her, through balf-closed eyes
Il never really began to know you un
til now? Analyzing you-studying you
in this fashion, not by your words, but
by your expression, your pose, the
very unconscious essence OF your per
sonality-these things are illuminat-
ing"
although I am not painting you,
she said with a smile, 81 have been
studying you, too. AS you stand there
before your canvas your own person
ality is revealed-and have not been
entirely unobservant myself"
"And under the X-ray scrutiny Ct
this profound analysis he said with
laugh, do you like me?'
"Wait and see," she retorted.
"At all events"-he spoke gravely-
you must try to like me a little, be-
cause I am not what | was. The per
son that l am is largely the creature
of your own fashioning. OF course
you had very raw material to work
WILL anu you Cull lilohG d SILK puISE
of"-he broke off and smiled-"well,
of me, but in time you may at least
get me mercerized little"
For no visible reason she flushed,
and her next question came a tride
eagerly:
DO you mean I have Influenced
your"
Influenced me, Drennie?" he re-
peated. you have done more than
that. You have painted me out and
painted me over"
She shook her head, and in her eyes
danced light of subtle coquetry.
There are things l have tried to
do, and failed" she told him.
His eyes showed surprise.
Perhaps" he apologized, 81 am
dense, and YOU NAV have to tell me