Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1923-11-01

one nau seen the IamOuS-WCflu-
famous elderly sculptor, who would
persist in living in single-room studio
when millionaires would have been
proud to entertain him.
There he lay, very sick indeed, OF
some internal ailment, half-fnished
busts, clay, easels, all sorts of odds
and ends about the room.
Maestro! Why did you not tele-
phone us?"
Signor Tomalli only rolled his eyes
and pressed his hand to his abdomen.
II die!" he whispered family.
no, no, Maestro Think of the loss
to the world! Live for the worlds
saker'
81 die, my friends" The friends
shuddered. They knew Signor Tomali
had often thought himself at the point
of death before-was this the genuine
goods?
II would see her before die"
Whom, Maestro?"
Signor Tomall pointed to dirty
scrap of paper on which he had labori-
ously written a name and address.
They read:
Mrs. Mary Johnson,
so Sink Street,
Brooklyn"
cit shall be done, Maestro! Live
till She comes!'
They tiptoed out of the studio. Il
never heard of her? Did your
Never! One would mot have
thought the Maestro would have an
affair in his old age"
"We must be discreet"
AS silent as the grave"
''For the sake of his art and the
reputation of the Maestro-discretiOn !"
But their hearts sunk low when they
| reached Sink Street. A filthy slum-
no, better at this end, they admitted,
! but still sluln. And-colOred peO-
pie dwelling there, dwelling in the very
house. 1t was terrible.
'tWe must not breathe word Of
the Maestro's indiscretion."
+For the sake of his art, nothing !"
Mrs Mary Johnson live here?"
they asked the comely, middle-aged
cOlored woman who came to the door.
"She do? Pm. her." announced the
woman, with flash of white teeth.
They solemnly explained their err.
rand TIES dying ana wants you De-
fore he dies
Mrs. Mary Johnson threw back her
head and laughed in an unfeeling way.
"Shoah he amt dying. | know what
hka I faIn n
go to his studio no more! You jest
wait a minute, you Dago gentlemen!"
They shook their heads. "To think
of the Maestro becoming entangled
with such woman at his time of lifel
The Maestro, with world reputation
And such an ignorant woman!"
"And SO hard !"
"And black, too. Did you notice
that she was black?"
'.She was undoubtedly black"
Mrs. Mary Johnson put an end to
their speculations by appearing in
brfght-colored coat, and wearing an
enormous hat. In her hand she car.
ried be- which appeared to be heavy:
however, she declined to permit any
Of her escort to relieve her of it.
There was very little conversation
as they betook their way by subway
back to Manhattan. At length, how.
ever, they arrived at the sculptor'S
studio. They went upstairs.
Signor Tomalli still lay in his bed
his wild, gray hair scattered about the
pillow. At the sight of Mrs. Johnson
he started up with a wild cry.
"Ah, you have come. my angel -
ooh, you silly old fool!' said Mrs.
Johnson, shaking her finger at him.
You d. know what Use got in my bag
foah you. tole you | wouldn't never
come no noah, becase you didn't
like"
II did, Mary y cried Signor Tomalli.
you are perfect, perfect. 1t was
misunderstanding, See, am i'll be-
cause"
'Ill? Taxing" answered Mrs. Mary
Johnson contemptuously. "Jest to
bring me back again, becase I'm a soft
hearted FOOL
''See, the Maestro is already recov-
ering All, the power of love can work
miracles -
Love hey?" snorted Mrs. Johnson,
producing an enormous chicken out of
her bag. "You bet it's love! Las
time 7 left him I told him r wouldn't
fry him no chicken a la Maryland any
more, but there-Tse that soft-hearted,
the ole fool can get round me every
time. And fancy me, the mother Of
six, comm all the way from Brook
Ign to cook for him, just becase he
liked that chicken l used to make when
he was visiting the Randolphs!"
Why Rivers Get Muddy.
Once a year the newsboys of GER
tain district of London are taken for
an outing on the Thames river by a
gentleman of the eneighborhood. where
they can battle to their hearts con-