The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1925-06-12

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given me my education. really. She
worked for it. / couldn't go clubbing
along, earning just enough to keep me.
l wanted to give her things. l want
ed"
did she want those thingsf Did
she want you to give up architecture
and go into bonds?"
"Well-she-I don't know that she
exactly He was too decent-stlll
too much the son Of Selma DeJong-
to be able to lie about that.
"You said you were going to let me
meet her."
"Would you let me bring her in? Or
perhaps you'd even-would you drive
out to the farm with me some day.
Shed like that so much"
$50 would l."
He leaned toward her, suddenly.
Listen, Dallas. What do you think
of me, anyway" He wanted to know.
He couldn't stand not knowing any
longer.
Il think you're nice young man"
That was terrible. "But l don't
want you to think I'm nice young
man. / want you to like me-a lot.
Tell me, what haven't / got that you
think I ought to have? Why do you
put me off so many times? I never
feel that I'm really near you. What
is 1t lack?" He was abject.
"Well, If you're asking for it. do
demand Of the people see often that
they possess at least splash Of splen-
dor in their makeup. Some people
are nine-tenths splendor and one-tenth
tawdriness, like Gene Meran. And some
are nine-tenths tawdriness and one
tenth splendor. like Sam Huebch. But
some people are all just nice even
pink without single patch Of royal
purple"
"And that's me, h'm?"
He was horribly disappointed, hurt.
wretched. But little angry, too His
pride. Why, he was Dirk DeJong, the
most successful of Chicago's younger
men; the most promising; the most
popular. After all, what did she do
but paint commercial pictures for fif-
teen hundred dollars apiece?
"What happens to the men who fall
in love with you? What do they do?"
Dallas stirred her coffee thought
fully. ''They usually tell me about
it,"
sand then what?"
"Then they seem to feel better and
we become great friends"
"But don't you ever fall in love with
them?' Pretty id sure of herself.
Don't you ever fall in love with
them?"
81 almost always do" said Dallas.
He plunged. 81 could give you a
lot of things you haven't got, purple
or no purple"
"Im going to France in April.
Paris"
"What d'you mean! Paris. What
for?"
STUDY. I want to do portraits.
Oils" =
He was terrified. Cant you do them
here?"
"Oh, no. Not what l need. have
been studying here. I've been taking
life-work three nights a week at the
Art institute. just to keep my hand
in"
$50 that's where you are, evenings"
He was strangely relieved. "Let me go
with you some time, will you" Any
thing. Anything.
She took him with her one evening,
steering him successfully past the stern
Irishman who guarded the entrance to
the basement classrooms; to her
locker. got into her smOck, grabbed
her brushes, went directly to her place.
fell to work at once. Dirk blinked in
the strong light. He glanced at the
dais toward which they were all gaz-
ing from time to time as they worked.
On it lay a nude woman.
To himself Dirk said, in a sort of
panic: "Why, say, she hasn't got any
clothes on! My gosh this is fierce
She hasn't got anything on" He tried,
meanwhile, to look easy. careless,
critical. Strangely enough, he succeed
ed, after the first shock, not only in
looking at ease, but feeling so. The
class was doing the whole figure in
oils
The model was a moron with skin
like velvet and rose petals. She fell
into poses that flowed like cream. Her
hair was waved In wooden undula-
lions and her nose was pure vulgar
ity and her earrings were drugstore
pearls in triple strands but her back
was probably finer than HelenS and
her breasts twin snowdrifts peaked
with coral. In twenty minutes Dirk
found himself impersonally interested
In tone, shadows. colors, line. He
listened to the low-voiced instructor
and squinted carefully to ascertain
whether that shadow on the models
stomach really should be painted blue
or brown.
Even Dirk could see. that Dallas
canvas was almost insultingly superior
to that of the men and women about
her. Beneath the flesh on her canvas
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