The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1922-10-08

in appreciation of line and form and
the glory of childhood.
Bob Alone Knew!
OF course, no one except Bob was
cognizant that pure love had been
the inspiration for the bewitching
city gift.
There We're fascinating hints of the
wonders that Bob was still to con-
struct for his town. and the per-
COLA of wild roses, the ancient
southern carriage. with its typical
queenly belle and it's gallant south
ern gentlemen, was particularly
touched upon.
The story of Birmingham noun
tain and lower valley of lights, its
setting beneath the hill, was outlined,
and one paper declared:
IF LandoA's ideas for a myriad OF
distinctly lighted figures and statu-
AIRY is carried out, an observer on the
slope of the Red mountain range will
fancy himself looking upon an open
air art gallery of extreme beauty,
where the separate pieces will not
| be crowded, but each will tell, in
southern terms. the story of land
as fascinating as any depicted in the
days of lcng ago chfvalry.
CeremoniaIs Soon
The statue of Young Birmingham
was to be turned over to the city
within two weeks.
| How carefully had the lighting
system been planned SO that the
! shades of gold burned In the child s
! hair, a white and glorious effulgence
| played upon the marble, eager face.
while the broad brimmed hat and
I, babyish, summer frock were softly
d;ffuSad with ehadad GLOW
oh, how the wind seemed blowing
How merry was Checkers" whose
doggish heart appeared in every
curve of his trifling, hilarious body.
The grass was green. how pleasant
ii seemed to be a barefoot child of a
| summer dayl
Bob refused to have part in the
program and had designated Mr.. Ell
berton to turn the work OF art over
to the city fathers and the towns
people in his name.
| His Duty
Elberton fought with every bit OF
his ingenuity and enthusiasm for
| Bob to make an address, but the
architect had declared:
/, 1T have absolutely started this
thing unselfishly, and to appear
upon a stage as though seeking trib-
ute for my contribution would de
stroy the correct impression of thi:
civic work. For / wish everyone t
feel this is actually no more than my
duty-no more than anyone in my
financial position should do for his
home town. We should all be build
ers for our generation, giving 1t thu
best we can afford. Living like 8
sponge, to enjoy and absorb all thos'
things created for us by others
| atI inG fiOng thai
| our own. is to be a blood sucker
merely living, parasite-like, upcr
things, produced, at great sacrifice
by others-persons who many times
are miserably poor and weak ant
who get small benefit for theil
share in helping civilizations prog
ress along.
Il believe every man enjoys some
thing another soul has made FOSSILS.
for him. should himself create some
thing for others. How can man die
corxent who has been merely graft
err, leaving the world actually
poorer place because he merely took
from it-did not construct"
Elberton was silenced, and plan:
| went on without Bob as headliner
Mary Trevor, reading these thing:
hearing them by word OF mouth
found her heart strangely torn will
| conflicting agitations. Bob could not
| be all bad, and yet, In little things
II a man were craven-as she felt he
was-he must be craven In deeper
ones.
| But she did not voice this senti-
ment; and at the same moment thai
Bob had started back to her home In
| his car to pick up Annette, she was
| listening grave1y to what the young
woman was telling.
She, Annette, planned to motor down
to the unveiling ceremonies with six
or eight companions, and Mary must
just must-be one Of them!
Mary just fatty declined.
But why not?"
| Her hostess evaded.
! 20, public speeches and ceremonials
like that always bore me. One car
| scarcely ever hear what is being said
any way, you know"
/ An Artistic Reason.
Annette was suspicious.
Mary, you're a regular kill-jos
these days. What's the trouble,
You've been going on like this fol-
i months"
/ Annette was tempted to mention
Herbert McAllister. but thought bet
ter Of it.
20, say it's just being sick of ene-
self because the idealistic things DRAG
| you, with their witchery, beyond
your power to execute. I make man,
a drawing which my heart sees witt
| absolute artistic perfection. Ny
model seems to Turk in the shadows
about me. But when my work Is
j completed, feel only like flinging |,
into the rubbish heap. Now II
could be gifted with sorcery, and
4 command subtle, imaginary groups te
stand forth and be petrified into
stons. or draw, with faithful paints
upon a canvas--then, there would b.
happiness indeed"
Annette yawned.
"Ycu remind me OF Bob Landon-
lonly he raves like that about ths
building of houses"
Patience Gone
i Mary could stand no more.
In way, she felt that Bob wa,
being flung at her everywhere shs
turned.
Never mention that mans name t.
me again! I've heard about him 81
much from every living soul lately.