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The Purple Parasol

Chapter 9 THE FIRST WAS A CRIMINAL.

Word Count: 2670    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

lock and he stumbled out into the smoky, clanging train-sheds among countless strangers. It was all different from the

is ungainly "telescope." Dismayed and resentful, he refrained from asking questions at last, and for more than an hour sat upon one of

enville," was the

id not belong in this great, unkind place; he saw that he was an object of curiosity and amusement; keenly he felt the inconsiderate stares of passers-by, and indeed he knew that his own strangeness was an excuse for the smiles which made him shrink with mortificatio

re, and I'd like to ask a favor," said

said the old gentleman,

cried Jud, drawing b

r a starving mother to eat?" sarcastically demanded

I know I look just what I am, a country boy, but that oughtn't to turn people against me." Jud uttered these words in a voice trembling with pent-up anger and the tears of a long-tried indignation.

t convinced the stranger of Jud's genuineness. T

I see you are a good, honest lad, and I beg pardon for my unkind words. Now, tell me, what can I do f

e poured forth the disjointed story of his ambitions, not once thinking that the str

t along here as best you can till next Friday, and then come to see me. Here is my card," and he handed forth an engraved piece of cardboard. "Don't forget it, now, for I am interest

ed to you. But I wanted to ask a favor o

rected him to a nearby hotel. "Stay there to-night, and if it's too

ing, and with a somewhat lighter heart he made his way to his cumbersome valise, so unlike the neat boxes carried by other travelers, and prepared for the walk out into the lamplights of a Chicago street. He found the hotel, but had to occupy a c

told him how to reach the Record office, and he was soon asking a youth in the counting-room where he could find a certain artist. Here he encountered a peculiar rebuff. He was told that the artists did not go to work un

eadows and cornfields to the miles of bewildering thoroughfares; from the occasional vehicle or passing farmhand of the "pike" to the thousands of rushing men and women on the congested sidewalks; from the hayra

d begun to learn something of the haste of city life. How could he hope to win more than the passing attention of the busy man? Several girls in the counting-

lorious studio his dreams had pictured. He found himself standing in the doorway of what looked like a junk-shop. Desks were strewn with drawing-boards, cardboard, pens, pads, we

Jud was stricken dumb by this indifference, expected as it was. He forgot t

eiling. Was this the room of a great artist? Shattered dream! The walls were covered with flaring posters, ro

the door, his fingers spasmodically gripping the humble package of drawings he had brought all the

Brush, his head ben

lly ten minutes of awkward silence, during which Jud found himself willing to hate the artist and t

to see me abo

wings, if you have time to look at

at you'll have a devil of a time finding an opening in Chicago. Papers all full and a hundred fellows looking for places. Live here? Oh, I see-f

use for leaving the crowded workshop. The artist, whimsical as are all men of his profession

ers, to untie the string which Justine had so lovingly, but so stubbornly, knotted. Every expression of the eager, embarrassed face impressed itself upon the keen eye of the watcher. It was wi

at three or four. Even Jud in all his embarrassment

ertainly," a

t copy

ures of places and obje

e is

on't think they ar

fe?" asked the ot

id," said Jud

boy. How long hav

nee high to a duck'-a

e any ins

fford it. I want to go to an art s

d fidgeted under the strain. He was anxious to have the critic

e you to sketch that elevated track and the building across t

his eyes. It was not like sketching the old barns and fences down in Clay township. Closing his jaws determinedly, however, he began the task, wondering why he was doing so in the face of a decision he had reached but a moment before. He had come to the conclusion that it

Now I believe that you drew all these

ey Sh

aw such pictures as these is entitled to consideration anywhere. It kind o' paralyzes you, eh? You may rest assured that

rt, that's all. Do you really think I'll do, Mr. Bru

illustrating and then sail in for magazine work, etching, painti

I to get wor

ace. In the mean time, you'll have to wait until the first of the month, and, if you like, you may hang around the office and go out with the fellows

know I came

from another paper if you'd gone the

next Friday. Do you know him?" Sherrod gave him Christopher Barlow's card. The

the

't it funny y

"And his wife, too." Jud held the three portraits in his hand, wondering how they

't mean it. And has M

anybody. You see, old man Barlow, who has been looked upon as the soul of honor, skipped town last night

give him a gentle word in the great city a fleeing criminal! He felt a

an epistle teeming with enthusiasm and joy, brimming over with descriptio

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