Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1920-12-31
". MERE PAINT AND cANvAss


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After one week of gaddlng about, Of
shopping and theaters and dances and
motoring, Priscilla felt quite fed up
with distractions. She wanted to get
back TO her work, and wouldn't be
happy till she did.
And why not7 she demanded when
she failed to get Philip on the tele-
phone and secure his professional per-
mission to return to her studio. "a
few days" Of trifling was all he had
stipulated; and those few had served.
She dreamed no more OF Leonora or
Red Carnehan or Mario. Today, all
that, indeed. seemed remote and unim-
portant. What though she had dreamed
a nightmare which coincided so mys-
teriously with actual events as to scare
her nearly out OF her wits2 After all,
Il was at worst a dream; and In this
delightfully."- substantial and matter-of-
fact world, condolences don't count
with anybody except novelists hard
up for plot.
She found Ada Meyer pottering with
hopeless daub Of still life, spent most
OF the morning giggling and gossIping,
carried her Off to the Ritz for lunch
con, and left her there with some
friends who needed fourth at bridge;
an arrangement perfectly agreeable to
Priscilla; 1t was hard enough at any
time to settle down to work after a
spell Of idling, 1t was the next thing to
an impossibility with Ada on the
premises.
The quiet of the empty studio was
soothing and grateful. Priscilla sighed
contentedly, wheeled the heavy easel
over to its stand beside the pier glass,
shrugged into n paint-smeared smock,
and In the next fifteen minutes did
nothing whatever but sit in a chair
before the self-portrait, in stirless, in
tent study Of her work.
Again It seemed good in her sight,
decidedly the best thing she had ever
done; and yet she was dissatisfied; I;
something was wrong, something was
missing without which it could not
prove convincing.
The head she must not touch, lest
one misjudged stroke mar the excel
lence of its spirited gesture. Neither
s0uld she see any way to improve her
painting of the figure. The folds of
he skirt needed some little attention,
1ot much, possibly half an hours
work. No: the fault was in a
background treated in a fashion too
academic and tame to suit that bril-
liant counterfeit of life.
At length, rising, Priscilla took up
aer palette and from fat shining
tubes squirted upon its satiny surface
sleek coils Of color.
For hours she worked steadily, alb
sorbed, till a premature change in the
light broke the spell. With a slight
frown of annoyance she looked up to
end the frosted glass of the north
light overcast with pale blue shadow
No matter: her task was ended, anC
sooner than she had thought 1t would
be. A few days more and she could
"She put aside brushes and palette
shut the windows (through which nov
cold, strong draught was blowing,
drew the draperies close, and returned
to the chair before the portrait.
Reverie led her insensibly back {,
memories Of the Street of Strang
Faces whose dim reaches stretche,
away indefinitely behind that painte'
shape of dream. The effect Of returl
TO old associations grew strong. sh
could veritably see. she could almos
smell and hear the Street
She knew a period of mental uncei
talnty, OF daze and wonder, out o
which grew the sensation she had ono
before experienced of confusion q
Identity with the woman in the poi
trait. Inexplicably something impalI
able yet essential seemed to go oJ
from her to the other, with who's
spiritual essence 1t blended intimate
ly. so that for the moment she had n
true existence save upon that painte
surface. where she paused, hesitan
doubtful. confused, as on some dar
strange threshold. before passing o
and away into a vague half world,
Fi0Cc Oh Nusb unu Sh0pcACoo SRoS'
wnere there was neither light M
darkness, wherein consciousness gre
faint and the sense Of Self was bio
ted out entirely e.
v. BEYOND THE THRESHOLD.
Out Of nothingness, out Of sort
merit chaos, spectral walls like vel
Of mist took shape, closed in, add
unto themselves a floor and ceilin
assumed a semblance of stability, b
came n boxlike room wherein b
spirit was pent in a mood Of sluggi
and melancholy mutiny: room hat
fully familiar to her in its every hid
Gus detail: its poisonous wall pap'
stained ceiling and threadbare II
Dleum, Its iron sink In the corner,
rude chairs and common table eli
tered with sofled crockery and a g
stove linked to an overhead Jet
frayed tubing. its shelf from whi
hung articles Of detected clothing,
Bhaky iron bedstead with saggi