The state herald., 1915-06-11

tryln ike all III Ter keep tnlS truce
But ye must stay on yore side or
else ride the roads open. How Is
Purvy terday?"
Hes mighty porely," replied the
other. In sullen voice.
"All right. Thets another reason
why hit hain't healthy fer ye over
hyar."
The spy turned and made his way
over the mountain.
"D---n him!" muttered Samson.
his face twi.ching. as the other was
lost In the underground. Some day
I'm a.goin' ter git him."
Tamarack Spicer did not at once
reappoar, and when one of the Souths
met another in the road the customary
dialogue would be: "Heered anything
Of Tamarack?" mo. hev youf"
mo, nary n word"
As Lescott wandered through the
hills, his unhurt right hand began cry
ing out for action and brush TO
nurse. As he watched, day after day,
the unveiling of the monumental hills
and the transitions from hazy. wrath
like whispers of hues to strong, fiaring
riot of color this fret Of restlessness
became actual pain. He was wasting
wonderful opportunity and the crea-
tive instinct in him was clamoring.
One morning. when he came out just
after sunrise to the tin wash basin
at the we'll, the desire to paint was on
him with compelling force. The hills
ended near their bases like things bit
ten on Beyond lay limitless stream
ers of mist, but, while he stood at gaze.
the filmy veil began to lift and float
higher. Trees and mountains grew
taller. The sun, which showed first
as a ghost-like disk of polished alumi-
mum. struggled through orange and
vermilion into sphere of living
fame. Lescott heard a voice at his
side.
when does ye low ter commence
paintn'?"
1t was Samson. For answer the
artist. with his unhurt hand, impa-
tiently tapped his bandaged wrist.
"Ye still got yore right hand. haint
ye?" demanded the boy. The other
laughed. II was a typical question. So
long as one had the trigger finger left
one should not admit disqualification.
"You see, Samson" he explained.
this isn't precisely like handling a
gun. One must hold the palette: mix
the colors; wipe the brushes and do
half dozen equally necessary things.
II requires at least two perfectly good
hands. Many people don't find two
enough"
But hit only takes one ter do the
paintin, don't hit7"
YES"
"Welr'-the boy spoke difildently
but with nthusiasm-"between the
two of us we've got three hands.
reckon ye kin larn me how ter do
them other things fer ye."
Lescott's surprise showed in his
face and the lad swept eagerly on.
"Mebby hit hain't none of my busi-
ness. but. all day yestiddy an the
day befo'. ! was studyin' bout this
here thing. an hustled up an got
thet corn weeded an now I'm through.
Ell kin help ye out thought meb-
by" He paused and looked appeal.
ingly at the artist.
Lescott whistled and then his faco
lighted into contentment.
To-day. Samson" he announced.
'Leseott, South and Company get
busy"
II was the first time he had seen
Samson smile. and. although tho eI.
preston was one OF sheer delight. In.
herent somberness loaned II a touch
OF the wlstful
when. an hour later. the two set
out. the mountain boy carried the par.
aphernalia and the old man standing
at the door watched them on with 4
half quizzical. halfdisapproving glance.
As the boy. with remarkable apti-
tpde, learned how to adjust the easel
and arrange the paraphernalIa. Lescott
sat drinking In through thirsty eyes
the stretch OF landscape he had deter.
mined TO paint
Then. while he painted. the boy held
the palette. his eyes riveted on the
canvas. which was growing from =
blank TO n mirror OF ylstas-and tho
boys pupils became deeply hungry.
The day OF painting was followed
by others like II. The disabling OF
LeEcott's left hand made the constant
companionship Of the boy a matter
that needed no explanation or apology.
though not a matter Of approval TO his
uncle.
Another week had passed without
the temperance Of Tnmarnek Spicer.
One afternoon Lescott and Samson
were alone on cliffprotected shelf,
and the painter had Just blocked In
with lumber and neutral tint tho crude
sketch Of his next picture.
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