The Monmouth inquirer., 1925-07-30

an intimately acquainted, and ue
only part of him that can't go into
picture"
He took up his colors and brushes
and resumed his work while he contin-
ued his talk Now here's the stu
alton: / must keep the pot boiling by
selling this cover drawing ! haven't
any kid to sit and cry at me, and that
young man and his mamma have dis
couraged me from any further at
tempts to acquire by borrowing, steal
ing or adopting. What can l do2" he
asked with mock detection, at th6
same time reaching toward his table
presto behold my model" And he
held before my startled eyes photo
graph.
1t had been clipped from an ole
newspaper, and below it were the
words, Captain Murphy's Football
Face
Then while l watched in wondering
silence, Robert Alden transposed the
broadly grinning features of the foot
ball hero into the troubled face of a
baby.
Bob had painted thus, with laughter
and levity. But the work of his hands
was good. The baby face had received
the critical approval Of the editor sit
ting at his desk. A baby tear had
fallen upon his open check book, blot
ting out some figures he had written
there. And when he wrote again the
new figures were larger than the old.
Bob was at last coming into his own.
All Art charming, lovable. OF all
feminine affection, whose so fond as
hersl And who, at times, can be so
false as she? Since early childhood
Madame Taunert had striven to win
the lady's favor, and her devotion had
been abundantly rewarded. Art had
smiled upon her, and been very gra-
cious unto her. Through the years Of
preparation she had walked at the
pianist's side, helpful friend. She
had been to madame a warm and low
ing friend, only to desert her now in
the hour of her great need.
For madame was to give her first
concert in America, under the most in
spring auspices she had ever known.
The hour was at hand, but her in
SEPARATION had fed. False, deceiving
Art Steal her song from the night
ingale; from a lily her perfume.
Pluck the pinions from an eagle and
tear from the disciple his faith. Then
If you wish to crown your fiendish la
bors, entice from the true artist his
muse.
Late in the afternoon called upon
madame; entering unwittingly, where
angels should have come. Under my
arm carried magazine, which
laid upon table. Madame spied the
cover and gazed upon it long and
thoughtfully. Then she forgot me
forgot everything and seated herself
at the piano. The soul Of music had
returned.
Bob and 1 sat in the front row of
the balcony. Madame, tall and grace
full, and gowned with pleasing sim
plfcity, greeted her audience shyly.
Her bashfulness disappeared with the
beginning of each number, and re-
turned with the applause which
marked its close. And to me it
seemed her very artlessness lent a
charm to her art.
The last number on the program
was played, and madame retired; but
the people insisted on more She re-
turned and for moment sat motion
less upon the bench. Then softly and
sweetly the music rose from her fin
gers. There were sad little diminu-
endos, followed by tender, comforting
notes that rose to gladness.
Unnamed on the program, unknown
to it's hearers, l was sure the music
might have heard the echo of a life
that was passing, and the soft-spoken
promise Of brighter to come The
maiden could hear loves stream break
ing over the dark rocks, or feel 1t
gliding in the sunshine. But / knew
bAdI ~ represented lAiC SOlAOW VI
earth's children, and the sweet COM
fort of mothers lullaby. There was
no applause when madame had fin
ished-only the full-hearted tribute of
silence.
l wanted Bob to meet madame, but
he left me and hurried away while
l went in search Of her to offer my
congratulations. She would not listen.
mo, nor she protested in her precise
English. at was not I; it was the
wonderful artist that painted the baby.
He made the music"
AS climbed to my rooms noticed
a light in Bob's studio. The door was
slightly ajar and / saw him sitting on
a couch. He had not heard me. He
had his hat on his head, his pipe in
his mouth, and he was talking to
Oliver. (Now perhaps couldn't help
hearing. and perhaps was eavesdrop-