Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-05-09

TIE ATLANTA SEMI
help in shops"
If father could afford it, couldn't
learn to do something more inter-
esting? What do girls work at whose
fathers can afford to let them learn
how to work?"
They may become teachers, learn
stenography and typewriting; they
can, of course, become dressmakers;
they can nurse"
"Mother!"
"Yes?"
Gould I choose the business of
drawing pictures? 1 know how"
Dear, I don't believe it is prac-
teal to"
| Couldn't 1 draw pictures for books
and magazines? Everybody says |
draw very nicely. You say so, too.
Couldn't l earn enough money to live
on and to take care of you and ia
| ther?"
Wilbur Carew looked up from his
reverie:
ITO learn to draw correctly and
pedantic voice, requires a special
training which we cannot afford to
give you, Ruhannah."
Must L wait till I'm twenty-five
before L can have my money!" she
asked for the hundredth time. II do
so need it to educate myself. Why
did grandma do such a thing, moth
err"
Your grandmother never supposed
you would need the money until you
were a grown woman, dear. Your ia
Their and L were young, vigorous, full
Of energy; your fathers income was
ample for US them
Have 1 got to marry a man be-
- 7 ,,rr1. o1ro
lessons in drawing WITH"
Her mothers drawn smile was not
very genuine. When a child asks such
questions no mother finds it easy to
smile.
IF you marry, dear, it is not like
lessons in drawing: Twenty-Five is
not old. If you still desire to study
art you will be able to do so.".
twenty-five" repeated Rue,
aghast I'll be an old woman"
MANY begin their life's work at
Mother! I'd rather marry some
body and begin to study art. Oh,
don't you think that even now 1 could
support myself by making pictures
for magazines? Don't you, mother,
dear?"
Rue, as your father explained,
special course Of instruction is neces-
sary before one can become an ar
tist-"
But I do draw very nicely" She
slipped from her chair, ran to the
old secretary where the accumulated
masterpieces of her brief career were
treasured, and brought them for her
parents inspection, as she had
brought them many times before.
Her father looked at them listless-
ly; he did not understand such things.
Her mother took them one by one
from Ruhannah's eager hands and ex
amined these grimy records of her
daughters childhood.
There were drawings of every de-
scriptton in pencil, in crayon, in mus
paper of every shape and size. The
mother knew them all by heart, every
single one, but she examined each
with a devotion and an interest for
ever new.
There were many pictures Of the
cat; many of her parents, too-odd,
shaky, smeared portraits all out of
proportion, but usually recognizable.
A few landscapes varied the collec-
tion-a view or two of the stone
bridge opposite, careful drawing OF
the ruined paper mill. But the ma
aginary; pictures of demons and an
gels, of damsels and fairy princes
paragons of beauty-with castles on
adjacent crags and swans adjoining
convenient ponds.
Her mother rose after a few mo-
ments, laid aside the pile of draw
ings, went to the kitchen and return
ed with her daughters schoolbooks
and lunch basket.
Rue, you'll be late again. Get on
your rubbers Immediately"
The child's shabby winter coat
sleeve, and could be heightened no
further. She pulled the blue tobog-
gan cap over her head, took hasty
osculatory leave of her father, seiz-
ed books and lunch basket, and fol-
lowed her mother to the door.
road ran south across an old stone
bridge and around a hill to Gray
field, half a mile away.
Rue, drawing on her WOODEN
lip trembled very slightly. She said:
IT shouldn't know what to do if
I couldn't draw pictures. . . When
[ draw princess l mean her for my
self. 1t is pleasant-to pretend
to live with swans"
step; the frosty breath drifted from
her lips. Then she looked back over
her shoulder; her mother kissed her,
held her tightly for a moment.
IF I'm to be forbidden to draw
pictures" repeated the girl, II don't
KNOW what Will become OF me. Be-
cause I really live therein the pic
lures I make"
wen talk it over this evening,
darling. Don't draw in study hour
any more, will your"
"I'll try to remember, mother"
When the spindle-limbed, boyish
figure had sped away beyond sight,
Mrs. Carew shut the door, drew her
wool shawl closer, and returned
slowly to the sitting room. Her hus-
band, deep in padded rockingham
by the window, was already absorbed
in the volume which lay open on his
knees-the life Of the Reverend Ado
miriam Judson-one Of the worlds
good men. Ruhannah had named her
cat after him.
His wife seated herself. She had
dishes to do, two bedrooms, prepar-
atoms for MONDAY dinner-the usual
and Interchangeable routine. She turn
ed and looked out of the window
across brown fields thinly powdered
with snow. Along a brawling, VIM
try-dark stream, fringed with grey
alders, ran the Broolhollow road
Clumps of pines and elms bordered
it. There was nothing else to see,
except a distant crow in a ten-acre
lot, walking solemnly about all by
himself.
Like the vultures that wan
dered through the compound that
dreadful day in May she
thought involuntarily.
But it was far cry from Trebi-
zond to Brookhollow. And her hus-