Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 70, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 November 1918 — “Mains-Made” [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

“Mains-Made”

By IMES MACDONALD

(Copyright, 1»18. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Within five minutes of the same time, at least five mornings out of the week, Westly Mains reached the corner on Fifth avenue and turned Washington squareward. His punctuality was so noticeable that the little maid in the kitchen of the great house at the corner involuntarily glanced over to see If her clock was right, and quite often the people of the great house lunched and dined according to the time set for them by the modest Mr. Mains. Mains believed In sunlight and air as a brain stimulant, and he scheduled his day so as to cater to that belief. At eleven every morning he stopped his work, and at two he was usually before his desk or at his drawing table, ready to begin his afternoon’s labor. To look at Mr. Mains one might think he was a rather well set up stenographer or shoe clerk, or possibly n shipping clerk—or Just a clerk. As a matter of fact, he was none of those. Not a single man you might meet from Washington square to Columbus circle would be likely to know who you meant if .you mentioned Westly Mains —yet if you asked any reputable architect in New York, he could tell you In a minute. But Mains wasn’t an architect, either. In a few of the houses on upper Fifth avenue and Riverside drive might be found a room that contained some such furniture as could

only be produced by an artist with a constructive genius for the application of art to utility. And underneath somewhere on each table or chair, you might find burned with a close pressed red-hot iron this simple legend: “Mains-Made.” Many an unscrupulous Imitator has branded his own things in the same manner, but all to no purpose, for in each one of the Mains designs there Is an Identification key, some trick in the design or some piece inlaid in the making, known only to Mains and recorded in the little book that lies In a certain, safety deposit vault. So the Mains-Made things are made on the Integrity of Mains, and are, and will be for a long time to come the highest achievement of art in furniture. At eleven o’clock oh a certain morning the young mistress of the great house at the corner banged up the receiver of her telephone on Its hook and stamped her foot angrily. She had just been In conversation with her architect and, as a consequence, she was disgusted and disappointed beyond measure. It seemed that, although her new summer honie out on Long Island would be completed within the time specified, there was one thing which the architect had been unable to do. She had set her heart on a MainsMade music room —and Mains had refused to take the job. He had Informed the architect that the limited capacity of his shop would prevent his taking any more work for the next two years. “Then why doesn't he enlarge the capacity of his shop?” demanded Irene Wedgewood, savagely. ' i “Simply because he doesn’t want to,” said her architect. “Offer him double money,” she urged. “I did," said the architect, crisply, “but money means nothlng to Mains.” “Perhaps if I see him,” she suggested, with visions of her past success as a persuader of men. “You might succeed,” conceded the architect wearily, “but I doubt it” So a few moments later the Imperious Miss Wedgewood sailed down the steps of the great house. At this moment, however, the mind of Mr. Mains was on other things, and his belated effort to dodge the young woman who came charging out of the gate with head down was a trifle too late. “I—I —beg your pardon,” Irene Wedgewood had the grace to say. “I —I wasn’t looking where I was going.” ‘Tm entirely uninjured,” smiled Mains, amusedly, looking down Into her anger-clouded eyes. “Somebody’s

going to catch ft,** he grinned to himself humorously, as he passed on, “from that spoiled darling of the rich.” And Miss Wedgewood’s temper was not soothed by the little Jap servant who Informed her that Mains would not be in until two o’clock. It was an outrage. It was his business to be in. However, she was determined to see him, and she went back promptly at two o’clock. It was said of Mains that nothing could surprise him, but he was surprised when Irene Wedgewood was ushered into his studio that afternoon. “Why—why,” she caught herself saying, “you’re the man I ran down this morning.” ' “And you were terribly angry when you did it,” laughed Mains. Irene Wedgewood smiled up into Mains’ eyes, engagingly. “I’ve come to —to persuade you, Mr. Mains, to persuade you to —to reconsider, and undertake the furniture for my music room. I’m Irene Wedgewood, and Mr. Howard Colby is my architect.” “Yes, Colby spoke of that yesterday,” said Mains. “Awfully sorry, you know, but I don’t operate a furniture factory, Miss Wedgewood—just a little shop down below Eighth avenue. I only employ twenty men, although they’re the highest paid artisans in the world. I’m sure you understand that if I do not restrict my output Its value will deteriorate. I really cannot undertake any more work for a long time."

But she was paying little attention to what he was saying as she moved about the room eagerly touching this piece and that, wondering and exclaiming ovex 1 the loveliness of bls things. “And you made them all?” she asked. “Yes, most of these are originals; made by my own hands,” he smiled. “I have other things here. Would you like to see them?” “I’d love to,” said the once haughty Miss Wedgewood. And he led her down the hall where there were other rooms containing odds nnd ends of Mains-Made things. But Just then came a man who must be seen, and Mains excused himself and left her to roam about as she chose. Ten minutes latex' he returned, to find her in the back room, where was the ornngewood boudoir set. She had flung her hat away and was sitting before the dressing table whore the afternoon sun streamed through the window. Mains was startled to see her there, for he usually kept this room locked. These things were sacred to Mains, and not for the eyes of the casual observer, but when he caught the picture of her there as her rogal young head dropped slightly under the weight of the halo of her pale bright hair, he stopped In the doorway. “You are the first woman," he said, softly, “who has ever looked on these things.” “Oh, I’m sorry," she glanced up startled, nnd arose contritely. “They — they are the loveliest things I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes,” he said, looking down Into her eyes, “I wanted them to be. For seven years I’ve been making them, bit by bit, In my little shop upstairsmaking them, you know, for the dream girl who might some day be foolish enough to —love me." He smiled wistfully. “She would have —have to be a very wonderful dream-girl to be worthy of —of such thoughtfulness and—and sense of beauty,” said Irene Wedgewood, as she stepped hesitantly past him into the hall. And a few moments later she left, the original intention of her visit to Mains completely forgotten. Two months later when Irene Wedgewood went out to superintend the arrangement of the furnishings of her new house, she found a certain or-ange-wood boudoir set already unpacked in the room adjoining her bedroom. For an instant she held her hands over her surprised eyes and then looked again. Star-eyed and with flaming cheeks she went to the telephone, before which she sat for some moments in deep thought, then suddenly she changed her mind, for she slipped into her coat and drove her car furiously back to town. At five that afternoon she entered Mains studio rather breathlessly. “I’ve come," demurely said the once imperious Miss Wedgewood, “to pay for—for the boudoir set.” Mains smiled down into her eyes, standing close. “It was a fancy of mine to send It. You were the first woman to see It, and—and so were entitled to have it. It’s value is—ls entirely other than financial—so you see, money cannot pay for it.” “I—l didn’t mean money." A tear slipped down her cheek. “I thought— I—might be the —the dream girl—and —and pay for it with—love.” She stood there with bowed head and warm, flushed cheeks. Whereat Mains reached out and gently cuddled her to his heart, collectIng his first payment promptly. And the present Mrs. Mains will tell you any time that Mains-Made happiness Is even more wonderful than Mains-Made furniture.

Sitting Before the Dressing Table.