The Palatka news and advertiser., 1915-12-31
HIS NEW
YEARS GIFT
BY WIN. GLYNN


Though it was yet afternoon the
studio was like twilight. The refec.
ting colors of pictures, the red rest.
xulness of a divan, the stained cur
tains for models, the disorder hint.
ing thousand temperamental hours
the blotched floor, the elegance be-
<ome interesting and tawdry, an at
mosphere which suggested the linger-
ing of moments-it all seemed apart
from the day outside, from the north
light peering above half-rolled blind.
The artist-occupant sat examining
10me drawings. He was strongly
built, in his early thirties, not hand
H 0kne, but with eyes remarkable for
W t&eir glance. His face had the brood
<1k, sensitive quality. The drawings,
t1pressions in wash and crayon,
hich he went over slowly and Of
hich there were scores, presented an
that only few have been capable
He had caught character and life
"a thousand moods and stories, had
n tone it with that intimacy which can
ot be defined. He finished the draw
jngs with something of sigh then
With something of smile as his
eyes dwelt on picture set on an easel.
Slowly his face filled with mocking sa-
tire. The painting was that of a
young woman done with almost ira
\ dance. 1t seemed to portray, not
3 flesh and blood, but the thousand
things of feeling which the blood
(erved, the throbbing music which is
hyed on temperament. The char
e ter was conceived and translated
oetically, but its very nuances were
triking because of the grasp of the
Ftist. Yet did one fancy ibid the
mile on the lips change with an in
4efinable stain to what was coarse
md light even as you looked at it?
Had Hastings repeated gloatings of
satire wrought this subtle difference
ID a thing done so tenderly? Or had
his brush unintentionally brought out
beneath everything the feminine eter-
y nal that would not be denied, in the
fiux of bloom shown the nesting
worm? In the varied mystery of life
in which nothing dies, where perhaps
even thoughts become colors of fiow-
ers, who can know or dispute any
thing?
1t was New Years day and the af-
ternoon was melting away. Hastings
threw himself on the couch and for
ia long time rested, regarding the
4 painting with changing aspect. The
grayness of thousand days seemed
\ to settle over him, of drifting and not
caring, yet carrying downward with
him that gift supreme, of knowing
that beauty was the necessary dream,
but that the world and woman always
made of it a lie, that truth could be
spoken of only after money. He
could think in those terms and yet he
did not altogether. His need to ap-
preciate was too strong. In art at
least, he could follow life in tone, how
ever deeply and personally he under
stood its irony. But he was no lon
ger sure that he cared to follow it.
The laugh and bitterness of the inter-
walls must increase. He would become
dilettante, glorious perhaps, but
careless. And he would be careless,
that was the worst of it. At any rate
he could color desuetude with bright
aspect, could gamble like good fell
low what was left. He would not
appear hard hit.
AT this point he invariably added a
postcript to his thinking. If she had
only cared for the other man. He
could bear that and have gone on.
But, after many times previously con- :
Tossing her love for him, she had |
stood there that day they had parted I
four months ago and stated so busi-
nesslike and with SNUG, immovable
philosophy: ga woman must marry /
money these days for her own sake
Coming from her, it was unimagina-
ble and left him fiat. He could not
point out that she had much money
81 her own, that for him success must
come very soon, and that it was his
greatest hope she would wait for him.
She already knew these things as she
knew that he loved her. He had made
no answer to her because there was
none. Her statement killed even the
thought that she was being coerced.
If she had only left it possible for
him to think beautifully of her. Moth
inr else mattered quite so much as
that. And yet he did think beauti-
fully of her in spite of everything,
though he could not but think in the
terms of her own statement last. But
it was "all in the game" A man
must laugh at those things, whatever
the laugh did to him. He was fac
ing another year today, that, was all,
and her marriage to the other man
took place that night
A black cat came out of the corner
washing it's face in the center OF the i
room. A homeless kitten, it had ap
reared the first day she had come: /
stealing in the door at the time OF !
her departure. He had kept it as an
omen of good luck and more. That t
was something like nine months a@ h
If such time could ever be reckoned by !
calendar. She had told him then that i
she was model, but had refused to 4
nose for him without drapes. Who f
She She really was he had found out h
weeks later. 1t was too late then, for
he had fallen in love with her; is
There was knock at the door, and s
be went to open it. Stanton, the ed v
itor IL; of a powerful weekly, entered. t
He He stalked around the room as one /
with something to unload, and, at il
W-s-< l>.,.,ca1f On the COuC1. l.