Deming graphic. (Deming, N.M.) 1903-1948, 1921-01-11

BY ALICE p. PHINNEY.

hill among the daisies ana urehuilly
watched the pale day moon. An art
lists portable camp stool and an easel
stood beside her and In her hands was
a palette, much daubed with green
and yellow. The bees droned and all
was sleepy and warm.
Then mans voice quietly chimed
In with her mood
There's a superstition about that
you. know"
"Yes?" she questioned without NOV
Ing, and then. startled, she turned to
see tanned, white flannel clad young
man standing behind her, his keen blue
eyes thoughtfully considering the day
moon.
Funny so few ever write about that
or paint It," he was saying. Now
could place II over hazy hills, between
columns Of marble" his long fingers
frightened on the brush they held, "but
that superstition" He turned to her
and she greeted him with a smile. But
It was quite different from that intl-
mate questioning Eyes" Oh, 1t was
entirely polite, the smile was, but very
cool. for the girl had come hack from
the white day moon to this queer old
world where there are men who have
been introduced, and there are others
Ooh, quite attractive others) who have
not
The artist laughed good humOredly
81 didn't come up to talk Of moons
ne said, "and apologize for being so
Informal, but I'm painting this land
scope" his sweeping gesture took in
the sunny hills and the cleaning riv-
/ er-"and Just as | was getting IL my
light yelows gave out-thats the
I main tone-and then I saw your easel
and wondered II you, beiig a painter,
! too"
-Of COURSE" she admitted. Eight
/ ycllows. one couldn't paint without
them today But the oil tubes aren't
here vet. If you'll walt"
She motloned 10 him TO be seated.
ITS wonderful to paint" she said
as he compiled.
isn't It, though? And on n day like
this"
She nodded and shifted the sun
scented air dellghtedly. Natures just
baking" she declared, and laughed
as she added Cooking things always
smell good to me-"
The artist tapped the ground with
his brush Mature" he said, as the
one artist who is practical. There are
so few like that"
In the valley below was white
church, seeming ridIculously tiny ms
they looked down from the hill. The
wee door swung open and
"Why that darling white speck, -
cried the girl ITS n bride And
the blaci, speck is the groom, and all
the rainbow specks are"
The artist watched them. "From
this distance he unused, 1--WE cnn sup
pose them the ideal couple Mother
Nature Is healthy, artistic and practl-
cal. We people can all be- the first
and then we have our choice between
the other two
He had often talked In this strain
at the club.
81 hope" he added, that one Of
those little specks can dream 10 some
purpose and that the other can-boIl
eggs They might use the day moon
he suggested.
"Oh," she remembered "the day
moon What was that superstition
AN old Hindu thing, think. Your
watching Il SO intcntly made me re
caH II. On the noon OF the full Of
the day moon one should pray TO II
for his hearts desire. But he won't
receive It unless It Is worthy and fair
~ practicable It's best TO sleep with
a white cat until the new crescent
appears. and there ought to be some
one else who wants the same thing
They could vow for the practical"
b "Ilow keen you are for the practi-
cal" She turned TO look at him.
well. being an artist I've had to
cook for myself now and then. II
makes man think. | shall never
marry an artist, while you, now, II
you were to marry some intensely
practical fellow"
Suddenly he didn't want her 10 mar
ry any too intensely practical fellow
4 "But maybe you're not an awfully
, good artist" he suggested hopefully
Il don't wonder our grandmothcrs
. laugh at us" she declared, rising
brlskly. "Thls way of discussing our
most personal affairs IN an Impersono
way with utter strangers is funny"
|, lie chuckled at her dainty decisive
ness. and. rising. too, do you know
b. I wish you weren't an artlstf"
The girl was shading her eyes ant
$ looking on toward the hot, lazy river
A canoe. padded by a strong drui
, clad woman. glided ashore. The cir
, | smiled.
"Ah. there's Annette" she muir
INJURED.
Annette Fraser, the artist" HI
nodded.
The girls hazel eyes doubtfully ap
praised the easel and stool. 81 hop,
these are right"
II n.