The Monmouth inquirer., 1925-07-30
THE
PICTURE SHE
PAINTED
\ = I \ \ \ \ = \
By RUSSELL P. AsKUE
90 by short Story Pub. Co,


i reason had hoped this one might
be told from the viewpoint of
ItOliver Twist. For oliver is modest
and blind. Besides, he knows much
more about the hero than l do. But
a serious difficulty lay in the fact that
he had never met the heroine. That
pleasure having been mine, oliver in
sisted that tell the story. SO here
goes
Madame Ada Taunert was studying
carefully the cover of weekly mag
azine. 1t was adorned with the head
of baby with wide-open mouth and
tightly-closed eyes; the mouth emit
ting shrill cries of woe (simply be-
cause of the limitations of graphic
art) while the tightly-closed lids some
how permitted the egress Of large,
round, realistic tears.
AS she gazed upon the unhappy in
FAINT countenance its misery reflected
itself upon her own face. "Armes
Kuind," she cooed soothingly, and
folded the magazine tenderly to her
breast. bad world-bad people !"
she declared reproachfully; ''why do
they make the babies weep?" She
bestowed a kiss upon the little woe
begone face, then sat down at her
piano, and-and ], reposing in an
easy chair near by, let my thoughts
carry me back to the man who had
made the baby cry.
Who ever heard of an artist with
long legs and short red hair? And
who ever heard the name of Bob APP
piled to such attributes and appen-
dages9 Yet such was Bob Alden.
The red-hair side of his nature had
triunphed in many crises, and the legs
had always held their ground. He
could appreciate funny situation on
any empty stomach, and grin when
editors told him his stuff lacked hui
NOR.
/ But don't misunderstood. These
heights Of philosophy he had not at
tanned at a single bound. Upon leav-
ing art school he was at first inclined
to proceed at once to Europe and paint
resolved to devote himself to maya
zine work. Then 1t became his de-
sire to punch editorial heads
The path from pugilistic aspirations
to grins was long, and the journey had
taken a year. But ON the way he
learned many things. He became rec
onciled to the occupation of the front
pages by Harry Fisher and Jimmy
Flagg, and was happy to find himself
tucked In among the advertisers. And
about the time that he discovered
that editors were human, one of them
commissioned him to paint cover
Now this painting is the spool about
which our thread Of narrative is
wound. Let's unwind.
/ entered Bob's studio on a bright
April morning.
Bob was accustomed to having me
drop in upon him. My apartments
being situated on the floor above, /
didn't have far to drop, and so he
didn't mind. He had merely nodded
upon this occasion. That greeting did
not in any wise interrupt his industry
The was whistling ditty and paint
ing baby. And not until I had ex-
amined the work on his easel did he
rest his brush and my ears and open
the conversation. 1t opened with a
bang"
Just my luck 7" he growled, and /
felt that he meant me. II need
model. and I've been praying all the
morning that the right chap would
come for the job. Now see how my
petition is answered: I ask for baby
land in walks bachelor"
With his accusing eyes upon me
felt very i'll at ease, and sought to
calm his discomfort. you're getting
on fine without one" said !, "and be-
sides"
At that moment there arose from
the house next door the most disquiet-
Ing infantile shrek l have ever had
the pleasure of hearing. FuIl-throated,
clear, and vibrant with feeling it came
to our ears,
"-and besides" 1 finished trium-
phantly, ''besides-listen to thatl'
Bob laid his color box carefully on
the floor, and tiptoed to the window.
II thought for minute" said he,
that / heard something. But l must
have been mistaken, cause the baby in
that house never cries"
Never criesl" gasped. "Are you
deaf, or am / crazy?"
II am not prepared to answer your
entire question" he replied: s'let it
suffice to say that l am not deaf. An
hour ago / was quite sure / heard
what you seem to have imagined hear
ing, and asked the lady next door if
/ might borrow her baby. OF course
she asked what wanted him for, and
I was fool enough to inform her.
told her was trying to draw young
ster crying, and desired to make a
study of the real thing in action.
"And what do you suppose that
woman does? She reaches down,
y 49,. 4.