Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 185, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 August 1912 — Tobin Plans a Holiday [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Tobin Plans a Holiday

By A. HOWARD

(Copyright, 1812, by Associated Literary Press.) r-' ’ ' Tobin Oliver, the artist, lived with his mother and .little sister Clarissa in a rather nice boarding house; so nice, indeed, that in order to meet the board bill the Olivers had to tuck themselves away in two tiny rooms on the fourth floor back. Tobin was a patient, kindly person, with hair thinning on his temples and a stoop to his shoulders which made him look very much older thante should, for he was still very young. When he was a boy he had had dreams, even as other young artists have, of painting pictures that would astound the world; but now that his father was dead and he had his mother and sister to support, he chiefly dreamed of dodging the laundryman, and spent his idle moments in figuring how to pay for Clarissa’s schooling. These calculations allowed of no margins for expensive recreation, yet Tobin was contemplating a piece of wild extravagance. Thus it was particularly disconcerting when Clarissa, deliberately abandoning her pose, turned her pleading eyes upon him. “Please, Tobin, can’t I go to the circus?” Clarissa was an uncomfortably clever child, with a pretty, eager face, and frightfully long legs. She was Tobin’s only model, and posed for everything he did, from fat policemen and colored mammies, to fashion plates and soothing syrup babies. She was draped over a chair now, with mirror and powder puff in hand, and Tobin was drawing her as an advertisement for American Belle Beautifying Cream. He had no intention of taking her to the circus, so he pretended to be very busy with his picture, and assiduously splashed the paint on the highly colored cheeks of the American belle. But Clarissa was not thus easily silenced. She squirmed around in her chair and repeated Insistently: “Please, Tobin, can’t I go to the circus?” If the American Belle was to be finished that day Clarissa must be hu-

mored, so Tobin answered discreetly: “I don’t know whether you can or not. I’ll think it over and see if it can be managed." That quieted the trusting Clarissa, but Tobin began to feel shamefully deceitful. He knew that he was not going to take Clarissa to the circus, as he had already planned to take some one else, the most precious person in the world. For in the front room of Mrs. Bosey’s fourth floor lived Tobin’s inspiration, she who would kave been the lady of his dreams if he had ever had time for dreaming. This Diana Garland was an energetic, happy lltle woman, with red hair and snappy eyes, and though she smiled very often in public Tobin wisely suspected that she cried rather often in private. Teaching music in a thirdrate boarding school is not the ideal existence for a girl, and whenever an anxious pucker appeared on Diana’s white brow, Tobin knew that she was feeling rather forlorn. There was trouble at the hoarding school one week and the pucker stayed so long on Diana’s forehead that Tobin feared ft was becoming permanent. He longed to comfort her, but there was nothing he could do until Diana remarked quite casually one morning that the circus was coming to town and that she ,would like to see the baby giraffe. That gave Tobin bls opportunity. He knew it was a reckless waste of money, but what cared he for filthy lucre? He was too poor to offer Diana his hand and heart, but he could at least offer her a glimpse of the baby giraffe. One wild act brings on another, and having determined to take Diana to the circus, Tobin found himself still further involved in financial embarrassments. The American Belle did not bring In as much as he had expectetd, and when he went to buy the tickets he found that he would have to use Clarissa’s commission. As he supported Clarissa and willingly sacrificed his life to hers, there seemed no real reason why he should pay her for posing, but it had been his invarl-* able custom to give her a fragmentary share of all that he made on his pictares. In keeping back Clarissa’s earnings Tobin felt as guilty as if he

had robbed a bank, even though he promised himself that he would pay her back some day. However, he bought the ticket's, bought them early in the week, for he knew by sad experience that money has a way of escaping even when you have made the best of plans for its future. Once they were purchased and safely stowed away in his pocket a change came over the artist, his conscience ceased to prick him and he felt strangely light-hearted, like a gay, irresponsible truant In all the years of patient drudgery since his father died Tobin had taken no holidays, and now he reveled in the joys of anticipation. He looked kt the tickets every morning to be sure that they were safe, but he said nothing to Diana, for,it was to be a great surprise. Every Wednesday night Diana went with Tobin’s rival, William Hutt, to a moving picture show, and every Saturday afternoon she walked with Tobin through the park. He knew just how she would smile when he told her that, instead of walking in the park, they were to go to the circus together. Diana had a funny, sweet little smile that drove away the pucker from.her brow. So pleasant was this thought that Tobin forgot all about Clarissa until the end of the week. On Friday night he worked late at a downtown art exhibit, but on his way home he stopped to buy a bag of peanuts for the little girl. . Clarissa could not go to the circus, but she could feed the squirrels in the park. The house was in inky darkness when he reached home, for Mrs. Bosey wasted no gas on late arrivals, and it was only by groping cautiously along that Tobin mounted to the fourth floor. All was blackness there except where a faint stream of light shone beneath Diana’s door. He was watching that light and wondering why Diana was up so late when the door opened and a girl crept out into the hall. She closed the door behind her and again the hall was absolutely dark, but Tobin knew that she was coming toward him. He stood still, fascinated, and his heart began to pound loudly. Although he could see nothing, he could hear the soft swish of her garments as she approachedHe felt that he should go, but his strength seemed to have deserted him. Then in the darkness his hand touched hers. She drew away, but Tobin held her and spoke quickly: “Diana, dearest, it’s only Tobin. Don’t be frightened.” The girl stood still; they were alone in the darkness, the other boarders were peacefully snoring, and somehow Tobin’s arms went around her. She leaned against him with her face hidden in his coat, and Tobin, who had fought against his love so long and bravely, lost his senses for a time and began to tell her hurriedly, hotly, all his longing for her. If she made no answer she made no resistance,land rapturously he stooped and kissed her hair and forehead. “Diana, darling,” he begged, “say that you love me. I have no right to ask you, but say that you love me a lit-, tie.” He held her against his heart, but with a sudden movement she leaned away from him, and a match flared out in the darkness. Across its circle of light Tobin looked at the girl, and his arms slowly fell to his side. It was Clarissa, her face all drawn up with suppressed giggles and in her eyes the scornful, unsympathetic glare of a twelve-year-old. “I went to Diana’s room to get some matches," she explained in a whisper. *T think there’s a mouse in our wardrobe.” Then as the light flickered out she leaned toward him eagerly, insistently. , “Tobin, if I promise not to tell the boarders will you take me to see the circus?” ’ Tobin shook his head. “I don’t care,” he said doggedly, "who knows that I love Diana. T “Maybe not,” continued Clarissa shrewdly, “but if the boarders know this they’ll laugh at Diana.”* So Clarissa saw the circus.

"Please, Tobin, Can’t I Go to the Circus?"