Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 216, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 September 1918 — Page 2

The Decline of Art

By A. W. PEACH

(Copyright, MIS. by theHMcClure NewspaFrances Acton drew away from the half-finished picture on which she was at work and stared at It with sombre and weary eyes. Into her mind came the quiet, friendly but significant words of the instructor, whom she had given up because he had spoken those words —“You have the artist’s Instinct and soul, but I am mv!2h afraid you will never gain the skill to give it expression.” How the words come back! And there she stood, thinking as he thought—a failure in the field of effort she had sworn she wpnld master. The dismal, battered studio in Which she stood, with its cheapness and its bareness, added to the despair in her heart. Suddenly she heard steps above her, then the sound of a thumping, bumping something bounding down the stairs. Frightened, she threw open the door and discovered the sprawling figure of a man slowly adjusting itself to the realization that it had fallen down a flight of stairs. She fully expected to hear the air displaced by an explosion of more or less vigorous terms. Instead she looked down into the amused face of the fallen and heard him mutter: “And ‘great was the fall thereof — believe that is in the Bible somewhere.” He glanced up at her as he slowly rose. “Pardon me for disturbing you. I assure you lam not in the habit of descending stairs in that fashion, or at that speed.” His face contracted with pain as he balanced himself, and she saw with sudden apprehension that he could not walk, and before she realized what she was doing she took his arm and led him Into'her studio and to a chair. He sank into it with a grateful word. In answer to her query whether or not he had broken anything, he remarked: “Nothing so poetic as that. I cracked my shin, but it will be all right in a while.” As his face straightened and he was engaged in wooing the numbed shinbone, she had time to inspect the flotsam that had been cast at her door. He was evidently tall, and beyond any doubt thin; his hair was curly and light, and his eyes were blue —an odd blue, suggesting sunshine and shadow. It was not difficult to guess that he, like all the rest in the dismal old building, was that poor and deluded creature, she thought—a struggling artist. He looked up, and the whimsical, friendly light in his eyes warmed her very spirit. “I must thank you for offering me shelter and kindness. Perhaps I may be of service to you—l hope not in like capacity,” he added, hastily. She answered perfunctorily, and he limped out and down the stairs. She turned back to the picture and picked up the crayon, but her fingers paused and she smiled. She had looked into pleasant, friendly and understanding eyes; and in that great city, where she had -seen such eyes but seldom, she felt that she had found a friend. She had, but trouble was to come. He stopped that evening, some time, luckily, after she had put away the remains of her frugal meal and brought his offering—a small bunch of dewy violets. Then, because she was hungry for companionship, she invited him into the studio, and it was not long before they were deep in the discussion of the art they were seeking to follow. The old enthusiasm came welling back as she talked to him, and the dark days of the last weeks were forgotten. She told him of her ambition, and he said- that he understood. She told him that she would die before she would give up her dream, and he nodded in understanding. Then he told her in turn of himself and his ambition, but he did not say to ,what extent he would go in trying to make his dream come true. She felt, however, that they were of kindred spirit. Thereafter the friendship ripened rapidly, and proof of it came In many ways. One day, after an all-day trip among the offices, where she had met courtesy and kindly words that always seemed to hold something in reserve, she returned to find a little lunch all ready. She was in despair of heart and mind, and the touch of his gentleness was too much. She told him of her fruitless efforts, and then the tears of weariness came, and before she realized what was happening she found' herself in his arms and bis voice was speaking soothingly. She drew away sharply, anger at his touch rising Instinctively. The startled pain in his eyes caught the bitter words before they were all spoken, and she went on: "Forgive me, Edmund, you have been a good friend, but I am simply—simply—” "I kqow,” he interrupted gently; “you are worn out, tired and hungry." He caught her hand and she made a fierce gesture of dissert. “Yes, but .you are, and I know it, and I—” "And you are, tool” she broke in, almost laughing through her tears. “I am I” he said, bluntly. “So darned hungry I could murder a sandwich man for suggesting one!” He stared gloomily at the low-burn-ing fire in the grate. After a moment lie turned, a light of determination in c “Frances, what dp you say? n»

known you for a week—it seems as if we had been friends for years I I know place where I can get a chance in the garage business. Let’s throw this art stuff up and get up or down to something to eat and a decent place to live. What do you say?" . She looked in his flushed, eager face and earnest eyes. “Am Ito understand that you are proposing to me?” she smiled. He rallied his faculties. “That’s it, Frances. I know—” Her voice was cold. “Thank you, but Im not interested in the garage business .or in marriage, and when I’m .proposed to I want it done in a lover’s way.” He rose sharp, his face set. “I spoke seriously, in my way. If I have—” ■i Contrition came. She caught his arm. “Don’t say—l know —really, I am too tired. You have been good to me, but I can’t give up my dream. I couldn’t marry a garage keeper. I might—someone wh ( o dreams as I.do —you see?” He nodded, but his face was grave, and she knew that the slash of her first words, when his heart was boyishly open, hqd gone deep. He looked down into her eyes, and she saw that in his the light had gone out “Yet the big thing in the world is happiness,” he said simply, and went out, closing the door gently behind him. She stared at the ashes in the grate that once had been evidence of the quality of the old building, and the ashes seemed to symbolize more than she wished they did. “He is right,” she murmured to herself, as she turned out the lights; “the big thing is happiness.” It rained all that night, and the next day dawned gray, damp and forbidding. She worked feverishly at the picture that represented success or failure—and the failure seemed to be looming large. In the evening she heard him return. Her heart stopped as he passed her door and went on up the stairs. Usually he came in to make her a brief visit. She turned away to busy herself with something—anything. The door opened suddenly and he stood before her —his old, impulsive, boyish self. “Well, I made fifty dollars today, from art!” he announced. She thrilled with the words. Then the turn of the tide had come for him perhaps! A small beginning—just the opening—and then — t “I am glad,” she said quickly. “An order —” He shook his head. “No, I got a chance to do some fresco work for a dago ice cream parlor!” Her castles of art tumbled about her ears. Decorations for a “dago ice cream parlor!” She stared at him with wide eyes. Something in his face held her —something deeply glowing in his eyes. She swayed a bit toward him. The full, deep voice of the man belied the tenderly smiling boyish eyes. “Yes, fifty dollars —and a good job. Little girl, let’s swap dreams. I’ll swap my dream of being a Whistler or a Sargent for a home I know of, where skies are blue, mountains green and every, man and woman friend. Will you swap yout dream for mine and my love, till dreaming is done?” She felt suddenly weak. The dreariness of the worn, gray studio closed about her; the moving, quiet, manly tones sang in her ears and in her heart. She nodded. She was swept in his arms and field with a strength that would not be denied. “That fifty dollars will get us home, dearie. And now Hl propose as a lover should!”

EASY TO TELL “FAKE” VIOLIN

Close Observation Should Enable Any Musician to Detect Evidences of Fraud Which Is Common. The observant student of the violin is often surprised and disgusted by the number of violins he sees on the market which are purposely “faked” and constructed to represent something which they are not, Robert Alton says in London Musical Times. It is safe to state that 70 per cent at least‘of instruments commonly seen labeled as Betts or Banks or Duke (especially the latter) are “faked" instruments pure and simple, and at the most are not worth more than $5. Yet many instruments of this class are priced at from $25 to $75. A fair idea of the age of a violin may be formed by taking out th? tailpin and noting the color of the blocks and the kind of wood of which they are made. Good violins are fitted with good blocks of pine, well matured before they are put in. Poor blocks betray a cheap, worthless instrument, or a fraud. Imitation cracks in the belly or back may be detected by looking for them on the inside, through the tailpin hole. If they are not showing on the inside be sure they are not real cracks at all, but there for the benefit (or, rather, very much otherwise) of the unwary. .

The Brute Again.

“It says here that a wealthy Western man has left $500,000 to the woman who refused to marry him twenty years ago,” said Mrs. Gabb as she looked up from the newspaper she was reading. “That’s what I call gratitude,” commented Mr. Gabb.

Quite S0.

“The professional genealogist Is In a shady business.” “What is itr “Providing people with family trees."

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER. IND.

WHAT CAN WE DO?

The war is bringing in the good, oldfashioned practice of thrifty arts, among them the making of patchwork quilts. Women who have the time are collecting the samples of woolen cloth which tailors for men and women keep to submit to their patrons and to order goods from. The samples—called “swatches” —are' . sometimes quite large—something like eight inches long and four inches wide, making a goodsized block. They are usually tipped in an album or have small tickets pasted on the back of the goods, and at the end of each season are no longer of any use to the tailor, for cloth manufacturers supply him with new samples’for the next season. The swatches, being of uniform size,

When manufacturers began casting about for other fabrics than wool for new models in separate skirts, they experimented with several varieties of silks. Soft satins, tricolet and silk poplin were among them. Probably the last, the old, familiar silk poplin, in weaves showing satin stripes and cross bars, is destined to as much success as any other. We can wear it with a clear conscience—it is not among the things needed for the army —and at the rate that wool is going we will have to look to silk to reduce the high cost of dressing. Nearly all skirts are moderate in width and gathered or shirred to the waist In-the striped silks the stripes are old style made so. that they run around the figure, horizon tally,, or are vertical. In girdles, made of the same silk as the skirt, one may choose between wide or narrow ones and have' them with or without sash ends. Very wide, crushed girdles have many admirers and many skirts have wide pockets—especially among the fancy plaids and wide striped models in sport skirts. There are some lovely skirts in soft black satin. Some of them are made with long, loose side panels ending in wide black silk fringe at the bottom. Others have panels at the back and front finished with wide fringe, with three-tier tunics at the side that make

Draperies of Mohair.

A new mohair curtain material for either summer or winter use is both good looking and practical in character The mohair weave of cotton and silky angora sheds the dust as no other drapery, weave does. and the fabric is not affected by dampness or night air and never becomes limp and stringy, as many other summer curtain materials do. These new mohair draperies are in printed effects and have a rich colored, translucent suggestion of stained glass. They are admirable for the living room, library or dining room. The material is excellent, also, because of its dust-shedding qualities, for table runners and cushions to be q sed on the P° rch *

A Model of Alpaca.

A smart model of black alpaca was made on Russian lines, the peplum extending almost to the skirt hem. The sides of the peplum were silt almost to the waistline and were faced with white cloth. There was a white collar sod the bodice opened to the waistline Is show a vest of white doth.

Among Separate Skirts

One of the most picturesque of the capes for midsummer wear is one fashioned from blue doth and trimmed around its dege with a single line of yellow braid. a

Handkerchief linen and sports silk combined make a charming afternooß gown. ' . *

can be easily pieced together into little quilts for the use of French and Belgian refugee children. They are to be lined with soft canton flannel, which adds to their warmth and makes them comfortable to the touch, and finished With a braid binding or any other method of quick and durable finishing. They are about as large as a large baby blanket, but the size is a thing to use one’s own judgment about Fuel is scarce in France and these cozy little quilts will help keep many an unfortunate little victim of the war comfortably warm during the coming winter. Besides this is another step in the conservation of wool and in the practice of thrift which is a habit Americans need to acquire.

them with or without sash ends. Very soft girdles are chosen for these skirts. The model pictured is made of dark gray silk poplin, with satin stripes that run horizontally. The odd pointed podkets are made separately and are suspended from the crushed girdle in which the stripes run vertically, as they do in the pockets. In plaid materials there is often a short, plain yoke, cut on the bias, that fits, smoothly about the hips, and the skirt is shirred to this. A sash may be added finished at the left side with a loop and pointed end of the silk.

Golf Smocks "Handkerchief” Style.

The newest and neatest golf blouses —or smocks, as they are called —are finished in handkerchief style; that is, with hemstitched hems. Pointed, turned back cuffs and deep square collar have rather deep hems, the hemstitching crossing at the corners. Pointed pocket flaps have similar hems and hemstitching. The belt ts hemstitched along both edges, the bottom of the smock is hemstitched, and for good measure, three lines of hemstitching, crossing each other at the corners, outline a bolero device on either side of the front, above the belt

Beads to Sult Mood.

One fashionable woman who confesses her susceptibility to color admits that she must have a string of beads to suit her mood .of the day. She makes it a point to have all of her gowns developed in some dark or neutral shade, and she has made herself the pioud possessor of myriads of strings of beads , in. colors and tones to suit the strangest and most changeable of moods. She has adopted beads as the insignia of her own personality, and the pleasure tnat she gets from the wearing of them is quite evident when you meet her.

Capes Are Picturesque.

For Afternoon Gown.

TALES FROM BIG CITIES

Farmer’s Shot at “Pesky Snake” Proved Costly

VORK, PA.—When Jacob Miller shot at a big blacksnake that invadedhis 1 farm near here the other day, using an old musket (fiat lie carried for three years in the Civil war, he had,not stopped to figure out the possible

consequences. The snake, as before Stated, was a big one, and as Miller had been missing chickens as well as eggs, he at once decided that the sixloot reptile was the guilty culprit and one that ought to be put out of business. It had been many years since he had fired the old war weapon, but as it was still in pretty fair condition he concluded to use it in dispatching the snake. He loaded it with an ample charge of coarse powder, rammed in a

sufficient amount of paper wadding, poured in a small handiut or oucasnou followed by more paper and some burdock leaves, and then .started out in search of the snake. It was not long before the black reptffe was seen emerging from beneath the back of the barn. When the snake saw Miller It started toward the lane leading past the dwelling house. Miller took good alm and pulled the trigger. He missed the intruder, but scored a hit on a basket of clothes that he had left upon the back porch. Anyway, the wadding of the gun struck the basket and set it afire. The blaze soon spread to the sun-beaten porch and presently the entire back part of the house was in flames. The flames spread quickly and by the time Miller had regained his seet—he had been knocked down by the “kick” of the musket—he realized that the structure was doomed. Nothing was left when the fire had burned itself out. but the slight wind that was blowing carried the sparks and flying embers toward the roadway, thus saving his barn and other outbuildings. “Of course, I feel my loss,” said the farmer, after it was all over, “but I can’t jest get over missing that pesky snake. Guess I must hev overloaded the old musket, as she generally hit whatever I shot at back in then ’sixties. Or mebbe I can’t shoot as straight as I useter. But I’ll get that sneakin’ reptile yet, es he stays 'round here long enough.” - ‘ , Youngster Yearned , for the Delights of Big City PITTSBURGH. —Very naive and not the least affrighted by brass buttons and blue coats and all the austere paraphernalia of a police court, Veral Ciughenour, aged fourteen, giving his occupation with evident disdain as

who declared it was a real pleasure to be arrested by Barney. -“Where ya from?" questioned the sergeant. ' “From Berlin!” laconically replied Veral. “Where? I didn’t get that,” and the sergeant leaned over his high desk. “Berlin I” came the confirming reply; “from Berlin, Pa.” It turned out that Veral, with a French cognomen, had departed his home town in the first place because of its name and in the second place because he wanted to see a big league baseball game before the leagues were knocked galley west by Secretary Baker’s order. And Pittsburgh promised him both relief from the one and expectation of the other. “How’d ya expect to eat?” quizzed the persistent sergeant “I should worry!” quoth Veral, as he drew from a trouser pocket a miscellaneous fistful of dollar bills, top strings and white stones. “Whew!” ejaculated Sergeant Baumgratz. “You’n me should both worry, huh?” put in Veral, as Barney took his hand and led him to the matron’s sanctum to await word from his parents in Berlin.

Probably Last Time He Will Pet Grizzly Bear

BOSTON. —Carl Hulner of Billerica and a pet grizzly bear both reached for the same bag of peanuts at Lexington park. In the scramble bruin got the peanuts and such a large portion of Hulner’s right arm that doctors fear

the rest‘"of it will have to be amputated. The man, who is about fifty years old, thinking more of providing a few minutes’ entertainment for the group of persons who had gathered before the park bear cage than of his own personal safety, ventured inside the guard rail that surrounds the cage to assume the temporary role of an animal tamer. Bruin, scenting the odor of the fresh-roasted peanuts, welcomed Hul-

ner with glowing eyes. Before long the animal and man were lunching together as if they had long been old cronies. For the benefit of the onlookers, Hulner would occasionally pat the black head of his new-made friend and give expression to such exclamations as: “This is my bear.” “Ypu’re my pet,'aren’t you?” “Just as tame as a kitten.” Suddenly the bag of peanuts dropped from Hulner’s hand into the cage. Hulner’s arm accidentally struck in the spot which bears make.lt a point’to guard aS tenderly as possible—the tip of the nose. Apparently thinking the blow intentional, the grizzly dug a clawing paw into Hulner’s arm tvhile grabbing the bag with another. The man did not succeed in freeing his arm until much of the muscle and flesh had been torn from it. Then he scrambled out of the Inclosure and staggered 50 yards before collapsing in a flower bed. While the bear busied himself in eating the peanuts the man was removed to the Symmes hospital at Arlington.

Detroit Police Capture Elusive Girl Burglar

DETROIT.— Stella Brentkowskl, “girl burglar,” was on her way to keep a date when Detective Fred W. Behrendt and other officers from the Bethune avenue station accosted her. “All dolled up, she was,” said Behrendt

make him sure to remember his engagement." So the police kept the engagement along with the girl and they found, Behrendt says, that the young man had the rings, the property of Miss Stumvoll. Afterward, Behrendt says, Stella was also accused of entering the apart ments of Margaret Sullivan and Ada Maltry. And the police are still look Ing for owners of three women’s hats, an umbrella, several skirts, bracelet and a JtPg- They found this property in apartments which had been robbed and it did not belong there, Behrendt says. ( It was in this way they got their clue to Stella when she was arrested for a series of similar escapades a short time ago, It was found she sometimes abandoned property she had taken in one place when she stole from another. She was then convicted only of simple larceny and placed on probation. This time she faces the serious charge oflarcenv from a dwelling.

“school kid,” walked into Central police station hand in hand with Patrolman Barney Mangin. “Here comes Mangin with another Of his urchins,” commented Lieut. John Callan, as he caught the approach in Cherry way of & piping voice relating things to Barney that caused that worthy to burst out in stentorian guffaws. Who’d ever thought Barney had arrested the child? But, child or patriarch, there have been many partakers of Central station hospitality

“Had to look twice before I knew her." The police interrupted the keeping of the date —for a while. They wanted to know where Stella got all those good clothes. And they say they learned the clothes came from the apartments of Ernestine Stumvoll and Miss Julia Latham, which had, been reported robbed. The police were going to prevent Stella from keeping the date, but said Stella: “I gave that fellow e diamond ring and a signet ring tc