The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1926-11-12


i cornerY' inquired st. Clair,
the famous painter, inspect
ing the work curiously with his short
sighted eyes.
"Rennie, Mr.. st. Clair"
"Rennie? / never heard of him. But
he'll make his mark some day, If he
keeps on like that"
1t was the annual exhibition of the
Amateurs club. Rennie had been
painting for five miserable years. His
works had gone to the Fifth avenue
dealers, and brought him just enough
to keep him from starvation. Patient,
loving Muriel, in their home town,
might have to wait indefinitely before
he could send for her to be married.
For three years Rennie had exhibit
ed at the club. but never before had
his painting even been noticed. This
year st. Clair, kindly old man, had ac-
copied an invitation to attend. His
words filled Rennie, who was waiting
near, with joy. st. Clair had noticed
the worth of his work. A word from
ST. Clair would make him famous.
The next day he carried his picture
back to his garnet. And he sat down
and thought over the scheme that had
been Matching in his brain.
He was desperate. Things had been
going worse than ever with him. Mu-
riel, faithful as she was, had begun to
grow impatient. She wanted to come
to him, to share his poverty, she said.
1t was the letter of lonely girl. be-
ginning to doubt her lovers loyalty.
doubt-Rennie could read that be-
tween the lines.
He would take his picture to st.
Clair-not the one the famous painter
had praised, but his masterpiece of
the wild horses. over which he had
spent five months. 1t was unsigned,
1T was enthusiastically he knew that
he had managed to catch the vital
spirit of the steeds. st. Clair could
not but praise it. He had heard eX-
trayagant reports of his generosity to
struggling artists. A word from him,
and fame would be his, and money,
and Muriel.
Filled with the inspiration, he gath
cred his big picture under his arm and
hurried through the streets to the
painters studio on Madison avenue.
But when he reached it he saw that
st. Clair was holding some sort of
reception. People were fiocking in
and out, women fashionably dressed
and men attired in silk hats and frock
coats.
Rennie stood upon the sidewalk in
indecision, holding his picture. He
knew that if he turned back he would
never gather courage to repeat his ex-
plot. Emboldened by his need, he en-
tered, and, in the hall, standing among
a crowd of guests, was st. Clair.
The old man appeared to take in the
situation at glance, for he came up
TO Rennie and held out both his hands
cordially.
Wont you come into my studio?"
he inquired, and, dismissing the guests
for the moment with his courtly man.
ner, he led the way into the eleva-
tor, which ran swiftly up to the top
of the house, where it stopped in front
of an open door.
"Now, sir?" inquired st. Clair,
blandly, yet looking keenly upon his
guest.
''Mr. st. Clair the young man burst
out impetuously, you were kind
enough to praise my picture, Lantern
Light at the Amateurs club yester-
day."
Indeed, 1 remember it very well,
Mr-Mr. Rennie," said the old man.
Then Rennie was amazed at the tor
rent of words that flowed from his
lips. He told him everything, about
his desperate struggle, even about Mu-
riel, and ended by saying how a few
words of praise from him would make
his fortune. "And / have brought you
my masterpiece" he ended naively.
st. Clair was much moved. He laid
his hands in fatherly manner on
Rennie's shoulders.
81 won't offer an opinion now" he
said, because 1 am under the infiu-
ence of the story that you have told
me- / want to get the dispassionate
view of critic. Will you intrust your
picture with me until tomorrow
Stammering out his gratitude, Rem
ME withdrew. His last memory was
of the old mans kindly smile and the
warm shake of the hand. All that
afternoon he trod upon air.
He hardly slept that night, and the
next morning waited feverishly for
the postman. st. Clair had promised
to write him note as soon as he had
examined the picture. OF course the
letter could not by any possibility ar
rive till afternoon, but Rennie was in
that state of citation when the impos-
sible seems certainty.
He paced the streets after the post
man had gone, waiting for the next
delivery. At the news stand he picked