gau s ^-' 



EYE-AND-BYE-" 



m- coming " bje-and-bye. 



iDg of the fi 



e.j-j. 



And, trusting an ever, believe h 

 We nave no alghl for tbe swift-winged em 

 Tbat tie flitting bj as so silently,— 



That we ore to gather " bje-and-bjf." 



,. Stealing 11 

 8 ire at In g It 



ssly speed a 



I have not painted much of late years. When a 

 man gets towards tbe sixties, if he has anything 

 like a competency, he begins to have a partiality 

 for good dinners and arm-chairs. 



i my i 



nthu- 



I think I am s more sincere worshiper at her 

 shrine, since the munificence of Fortune has 

 enabled me to regard her only with the highest 

 devotion, and not as one compelled to seek her 

 through motives of self-interest. 



Ye?, it does take a little from the romance of 

 artist -life, to feel the harsh hand of Necessity 



continually urging +" new efforts, bidding yoo 



coin your bright fancies into money if you would 

 have bread. But it does not take away al! the 

 beauty and charm. Sonrt of my happiest days 

 have been passed in this very city, in a little bouse 



I was not alone ; my little wife was the sweetest, 

 most charming company which I conld have. To 

 her I owe some of my beat efforts and highest 

 inspirations. Oar house was small, though suffi- 

 cient for our simple wants. The lightest and most 

 cheerful room was used for my studio, and to it 

 my Nbllie used to bring her sewing and sit with 

 me while I worked away upon tbe canvas, with 

 i for her approval and sugges- 



Here we are at the door. You look around and 

 smile. I dare say you are thinking of the contrast 

 between my present residence and that to which I 

 have just alluded. "Well, there is a contrast, but 

 thank Heaven ! I believe that hopeful perseve- 

 rance and prudence have made it all my own. 



If you will walk into the back parlor I will show 

 you a painting which I have preserved as a 

 memento of those old struggling days. My wife 

 calls it hers, and as she has always prized it very 

 highly, I have refused numerous offers to part 

 with the original, but have made several copies 

 of it. I have seen various representations of the 

 same subject, but never any just like this. Let 



light upon it. There ! 



And I stood before it. Rather it stood before 

 me, ao life-like wa3 it in form and coloring. It 

 was full length, and nearly filled the little niche in 

 which it hung. The scene was a midnight land- 

 scape, over which the rays of the full moon threw 

 occasional gleams of light from scattered masses 

 of clond. Lying here and there in the shadows 



) of Ho 



M bile ,,: the 



i. i.lljl.rjljl:/ 



foreground appeared 

 the commander. The 



threw its clear radiance directly upon it, bringing 

 into bold relief the figure of Judith, as she lifted 

 the curtain of the tent and held it for her hand- 

 maid to pass out. Perfect dignity invested that 

 tall and queenly figure, from which a rich em- 

 broidered robe bung in graceful folds, almost 

 concealing the delicate, sandalled feet. Tbe form 

 of the maid was just visible in the interior of the 

 tent, bearing upon her shoulders tbe bag which 

 contained the head of Holoferses. Jpdith, half 

 turned to hasten her tardy foetstcps, bringing to 

 view her beautiful, almost fearful face, in which 

 bo many emotions contended for the mastery. 



My feeble pen may not attempt perfectly to 

 describe that face. The glossy dark hair was 

 brushed plainly back from the low, smooth brow, 

 and gathered in braided bands, confined with gold 

 and jewels. The eyes, dark and piercing, gleamed 

 with a triumphant light, telling of tbe proud, 

 defiant spi.it within. Yet, above those bold, 

 dark ejes lay a u ne of Iong and Bi i ky )aBhea wbich 

 told how their flwhi D g« conld be subdued at will 

 and melt to to softest pleadings. The nose, like 

 that of her country-women, wna nnrmw ni it* rLo 

 and large and prominent 

 something from tbe delici 

 features, but increasing tb 

 and firmness. Tbe mouth was s 



1 have added to the rather so 

 e rounded chin and cheeks ; b 

 irled and stiffened with contempt 

 strength of will. A faint llu»h stained tbe eleaj 



its base, detracting 

 beauty of the other 

 tpresaion of courage 



olive complexion, and betrajed the eagerness oi 

 the intent which was bo nearly consummated. 



After dinner my boat still further increased my 

 interest in this striking painting by relating to me 

 its history which, to tbe best of my recollection, 

 was this: 



As I told you, we were poor, and pool to jag 



much notice. I had been sick, and recovering, found 

 my fundB at a very low ebb, and even my cheerful 

 wife, worn by care and anxiety, began to look 

 rafhei sorrowfully on our future. I must paint 

 something remarkable— something which would 

 attract immediate attention. I had a historical 

 piece upon tbe easel partly finished, but I pot 

 that aside and hastily sketched a Judith. I had 

 studied the Jewish features owefally ; they always 

 interested me. The picture which had brought 

 «c the highest price of any which T had yet 

 painted, was a Wandering Jtw, which, strangely 

 enough, was bought by Farqdab, the Jew exchange 



At Cist, I sketched a head, representing ia the 

 face the emotions of Judith when bending over 

 thecoucb of her victim before tbe deed. Bat it was 

 too vague. Then I took a half length, but had no 

 better auccess. I was feeble and excitable, and 

 after spending days, which grew into weeks, in this 

 way, I was nearly determined to give up and take 

 my wife into the country to her father's until I 

 should be strong and well again. 



I h2d sat down one day for a last attempt, and 

 with a sad heart and cloudy brow was working 

 busily, when Nellie, who had gone out to take the 

 air inastrollupon Broadway, rushed in breathless, 

 and seizing a fan, began, in her lively way, 

 recount her adventures. 



" 0, Lawrence I it is so warm, and I am so 

 of breath! I walked so f*st, I was in such a hurry 

 to tell you 1 I've seen a model for your Ju 

 If you can only get her ! In a lace store in ' 

 street ! 0, you must go !" 



In short, as Nellie related more calmly when 

 she bad leisure to collect her thoughts, she bad 

 entered a lace store on Canal street to make a few 

 purchases, and been waited upon by a French 

 girl who had struck her fancy so much that I 

 see her without delay, and if possible induce her 

 to sit for her portrait. 



Had we been in Paris instead of New York, such 

 a proceeding would not have been unusual, but I 

 felt that, as it was, there were some difficulties 

 the way. To ask a young women to perform such 

 a service would require tact, and that of wbich I 

 had less— money to pay her handsomely. 



However, to gratify my wife, I walked out with 

 her next day, and we paid a visit to the m-ii 

 Jpdith. I was delighted. Nellie had au ai 

 eye, and in this instance itwas a true one. I need 

 not describe the girl. Look at the painting,— im- 

 agination has done but little. But how to approach 

 her was tbe question. Nellie insisted that I should 

 leave tnat to ner, ana tnus she manageu n, tor-tune 



She called frequently, and aln-avs contrived to 

 see and apeak with the girl, whose reserve grad- 

 nally wore off before her lively frankness. She 

 found that Elise Dekmbad embroidered for the 

 store in whicb she was employed, and also fo 

 who wished her services. Having at that 

 some delicate work on band she gave a part of it 

 to her to do. When she had finished it she cam 

 to the house, and Nellie, wishing to gratify he: 

 showed ber over my studio. She displayed s 

 much appreciation and good sense, that I we 

 quite surprised, and gave her an invitation t 

 come whenever she felt inclined. I showed her 

 my unfinished Judith, and by skillfully painting 

 out her resemblance to the character intended, I 

 paved the way for asking her to sit for me once or 

 twice. I watched her closely, and saw that she 

 was flattered. The vanity of the French woman 

 was a strong trait in her, whicb. her expressive 

 countenance could not conceal. Forgetting her 

 reserve, she expressed her sense of the honor with 

 true French vivacity, and promised to come as 

 often as I pleased. The press of business would 

 present unless in the 



, bnt she hoped t 



Such was the interest which she had awakened 

 in roy wife's kind, sympathizing heart, that we 

 soon learned her story. An orphan, she had left 

 her native land and found employment in New 

 York, first as a milliner's apprentice, then as a 

 seamstress end nursery-maid, until she had taken 

 the place in which we found her. She bad been 

 there two years, and possessing the confidence of 

 her employers, was able to support herself com- 

 fortably. She boarded, with several others of her 

 class, in a respectable house in a quiet street, aDd 

 though she led a lonely and laborious life, she 

 seemed happy and contented. 



She was but nineteen years of age, and though 

 educated in the harsh school of poverty, possessed 

 a natural refinement and simplicity truly pleasing. 

 No one conld converse with her without feeling 

 assured of the purity of her mind. We admired 

 her, but we sometimes trembled for her as we 

 noticed the deep-seated and natural vanity of her 

 disposition, with tbat confiding affection whicb 

 timidity only covered with reserve. 



Finding that I should be delayed to the painting, 

 I worked upon my historical piece, and had the 

 rare good fortune to find a purchaser for it before 



t fji n 





Nellie drew from her with 

 understand, and, if possible, benefit her. She 

 said she had few friends bejond three girls with 

 whom fihe was thrown in contact, and whom she 

 eared but little to know. She was ajquainted 

 with some of their customers, who had always 

 been kind, and those with whom she had lived had 

 always taken a lively interest in her welfare. 



She possessed a true friend in a lady in Brooklyn, 

 for whom she had formerly worked. Mrs. Alle,v 

 and her children often came in their carriage to 

 the store, and last summer, when she had vacation, 

 they invited her to stay several days with them. 

 There she met with Mrs. Allen's brother, a man 

 between thirty aad forty years of age, and, as she 



ligeot and 



described him, a Tery bene* 

 agreeable bachelor. 



This Tisit to Brojklyn was a green spot in 

 ber lifl, for she dwelt upon it with evident plea- 

 sure. She said Mr. Felix Fowler, the brother, 

 had called at the store several times to leave 

 message? from his sister, and once or twice had 

 left a boquet or some choice fruit for her at ber 

 boarding place. He wae so kind and thoughtful 

 of those less favored than himself. 



I gave her a fsw sharp, questioning glances 

 when she spoke of this acquaintance, but she stood 

 them without flinching. Evidently she knew her 

 place, and regarded him as an indulgent friend, 

 whom she considered too old, as well as too far 

 above her, to appear in any other light 



Some time elapsed, during wbich we saw noth- 

 ing of her, and upon inquiry, Nellie learned that 

 she was sick. Bhe visited her at her hoarding 

 place, and was glad to find that other friends had 

 cared for and attended her. Mrs. Allbn was 

 away spending the summer, but her brother, who 

 did business in the city, had been unremitting in 



Nellie said that had he been a lover, rather 

 than a generous friend, he could not have been 

 kinder than he seemed to have been. Elise spoke 

 of him with tears, calling bim her best friend. 

 Some bow, Nellies said, she felt uneasy, and did 

 not half like this very kind Mr. Fowler. 



One day, after Elise began to recover, we were 

 walking out, and suddenly turning a corner, we 

 met ber seated in a chaise by the side of Mr. 

 Fowler, as we supposed. She saw ns and blushed 

 deeply— for just lb we met them he was bending 

 over ber, apparently speaking in a low tone. 

 Something in his look and air struck me unfavora- 

 bly, and as we walked on I told my wife that she 

 most speak to Elise, and, if possible, ascertain her 

 exact position towards him. It seemed to me 

 very like a courtship. Too like for a man of 

 wealth and of the world to seem towards a poor 

 shop-girl. 



When next Nillie called to see her, Elise 

 acknowledged thtt he had several times taken her 

 to ride. The doctor had ordered wine for her and 

 advised her to rile ont. How could she get such 

 luxuries ae these unless provided by some friend? 

 But Nellie urged that they shonld come from 

 others; tbat it was not well to receive them at 

 hie bands. Men were seldom eo disinterested. In 

 vain she cautioned; Elise had perfect faith in his 

 honor. He was so good, so thoughtful. Was he 

 not Mrs. Allun's brother? She would have 

 warned her had there been aught amiss in her 

 receiving his kindness. Fearful of wounding her 

 innocent and unsuspecting heart, Nellie said no 

 more— but ill at ease, awaited a more favorable 



Though paler and thinner tban before, Elise 



axious to finish it in time for the January ex- 

 dd. Elise, was to have a vacation in August, 

 e had planned a little recreation for her in a 

 nth my wife to her father's farm up the East 



I bad been oveT in the neighborhood of Newark 

 for a few days, sketching with one or two other 

 artists, and was returning on the ferry boat, when 

 I noticed, leaning carelessly upon the railing, 

 Mr. Felix Fowler. I directed young Norwood's 

 attenliou to him, asking if he knew bim. He 

 knit bis brow, looked sharply at him, and then 

 catching Mr. Marshall by :be arm, said — "Hey! 

 Marshall, isn't that that fast Fowler who drives 

 suoh fine horses V 



Marshall assented, and turning again to me, 

 Norwood added— "He ib a queer being, so they 

 say. Nothing -very bad, only he never did any- 

 thing for himself but drive horses and spend 

 money. A few years ago he married an heiress, 

 expecting thereby to have plenty at bis command, 

 bnt he was mistaken there. He couldn't touch a 

 cent of her properly, so he quarreled with her and 

 she went back to ber home in New England. He 

 is quite a lady-killer, they say." 



I had beard enough; he was a married man! 

 He was, too, as I expected, a designing and 



no time should be lost in warniDg Elise, who, I 

 was sure, supposed him to be a bachelor. I was 

 right in supposing that Mrs. Ai.i.kn had not deemed 

 it necessary to allude to his unhappy marriage, 

 never dreaming that he would pursue his acquain- 

 tance with Elise. or dare to give it her sanction. 

 She was probably entirely ignorant of his visit to 

 the girl. 



Nellie was horrified at the news which I had 

 heard, and would have hastened to find Elise with- 

 out delay, but I deemed it best to wait until the 

 next day. On the next morning, just as she was 

 about setting out, a note was brought to her. It 

 was from Elise, and informed her that she had 

 gone into the country to spend her vacation with 

 an elderly lady, an aunt of Mr. Fowler's, who had 

 kindly written to invite her. Mr. Fowler had 

 escorted her, she said, and she was delighted with 

 the place, so quiet and retired. She knew she 

 Bhould be quite well ere she returned to the city. 

 She added that she would write again before her 

 return, but she omitted to give the name of the 

 place to which the had goue. . 



We could not but feel anxious, and had Mrs. 

 Allen returned to Brooklyn, I should certainly 

 have called upon her to learn ber feelings in the 

 matter. But she had not returned and I had 

 not her address. 



The two weeks passed away and still Eliza did not 

 return. At the end of tbat timo my wife received 

 a letter from ber. There was something touching, 

 almost sad in that letter, something wbich spoke 

 of a change in the simple-hearted girl. She wrote 

 With an evident effort to bo cheerful aad happy, 

 nnd wished NkllieIo go to her employers and say 

 that she had been unavoidably detained over her 



that she thought the time near when she should 

 the store altogether for a home of her own. 

 ring to her benefactor as she called him, she 



'Heh 





g, and I have taken care of bim. I 

 felt it my duty to stoy with him, as the lady with 

 whom I am visiting keeps but due servant. By 



Mr. Fowlhr's aunt but ati old 

 ust have misunderstood him. 

 i her and was taken ill so be 

 has lingered. Ah ! wail the hours hove flown all 



From the tone of this letter we feared that our 

 suspicions were in a fair way to be realized. 

 A few days brought Eliza 

 house. She was looking happier, more brilliant 

 than ever. I dreaded to dash her hopes to the 

 ground, for it was evident on whom those hopes 

 were founded. The picture of Judith was nearly 

 finished, and in a gay mood she seated herself, as 

 she said, for me to add a few last touches, since she 

 was so improved in appearance all ber friends 

 said. We inquired for Mr. Fowler, and she said 

 he brought her home, but was soon going to Bos- 

 ton and Philadelphia. 



Ere she left, my wife privately and earnestly 

 besought her to give her her confidence. She 

 confessed that Mr. Fowler had given her proofs 

 of bis love, though they were as yet not engaj 

 Her confidence in him was periect. Nellie t 

 told her as gently as possible, what we had heard 

 of him. She flew into a passion on the insta 

 declaring it to be afoul slander, and finally, wit 

 burst of tears, she went away almost angTy w 

 Nellie for telling her. 



Mr. Fowler left town, and for some days 

 saw nothing of Elise, and supposed that her petty 

 anger kept her away. Nellie called at 

 but found she had left there for another 

 We began to feel anxious on her account, and 

 only waited Mrs. Allen's return to lay on: 

 fears before her. We hoped to find Elise again 

 and convince her that we were truly her friends, but 

 we relinquished that hope when, one day in thi 

 :arly Autumn, my wife returned from a walk, say 



that s 



! bads 



Avenues, whom she was confident was Elise 

 as she turned to cross, tbe female saw her, di 

 down her veil and disappeared. She evidently 

 wished to avoid her. 



The first of November we paid a visit to 

 Allen's and without reserve related the incidents 

 of the Summer. She seemed much shocked ; 

 suspicions, and admitted that her brother's 

 duct had not always been satisfactory, but 

 she was certain that in this matter he had merely 

 been inconsiderate. She feared thatEusB tl 

 innocent, was very weak minded, and had been 

 led by ber vanity to misconstrue Mr. Fowler' 

 attentioD3. She further informed us that her 

 brother intended going to Europe in the spring, 

 and that there were hopes that a reconciliation 

 with his wife was about to take place. Unsatisfs 

 tory as this was, it was all we could do for the 

 present. Thus we heard no more of Elise for 

 three or four months. 



My picture entered the exhibition, attracted 

 much attention, and I had numerous opportuni 

 ties to sell it. This I was unwilling to do, an 

 orders for duplicates came in as rapidly as 

 them during the currec 



should be able t 



It was one chilly eveniDg in February that my 

 wife and I were sitting by our cosy firesidi 

 cussing my improved prospecta, and speculating 

 upon the fate of one so nearly connected with 

 reputation as an artist. Suddenly we beard the 

 outer door shut violently, and in another mon 

 Elise stood before us. She dashed her boi 

 from her head, and, standing erect, glared around 

 the room with restless, suspicious eyes. She 

 sadly changed, ner pale face and disordered hair 

 gave her a wild expression, with whicb ber 

 neglected attire, bearing marks of travel, 

 strongly in keeping. 



"It was true!" she cried "all true I Bethought 

 to deceive roe, but I was too strong for him. Ah 

 the villain !" and she laughed a harsh laugh. 

 "Did you think that I should never find you 

 lie was goiDg abroad with his pretty bride to leavi 

 me here alone, but I found him, and" cominj 

 ■he spoke in a c.iutious whisper, " IV, 

 nd I shall meet bin 



a longei 



The poor 



uld ! 



T,.-d ( 



3 wildly and incoherently than t 

 restrained her gently, and having persuaded her 

 to retire, sent for a physician. 



As she turned to leave the room with my wife, 

 she paused in the door-way, and lifting her 

 trembling band shook it -* — 



sactly tha*. of Juihth si an din si id the door of the 

 ;nt, but heightened by life and madness. I felt 



j hy iustinct to wliooi tin words were addressed, 



ebeld in ber once bet 

 portions, the depth of her betr 



the flower of life had perished. " 



Let me not detain you longer. It is only 

 sary to add that in the hope of freeing herself 

 from temptation, the poor girl bad left the city for 



i speak of ber fall 



When the consequences ■ 



o New England, thinking [ 

 tier again, and hoping soon to place the oroaa sea 

 between them. With a woman's quickness she 

 divined bis motives and followed biui, not hoping 

 to reclaim him, but determined to he revenged. 

 She wrote to him upiii.mtmg j meeting iu Hosi-jo, 

 nnd (curing exposure li? dared not refuse. They 

 met amicably, aod to all appearance parted so, bill 



li.mdnl u.it permit Ihe forlorn young creature 

 obe her own avenger. Tbe^oowon^whioh 



.— . ih h" 



f his sickness, they 



could get no"oiue"frojn bim, so closely did he 

 keen uU secret. 



|.,, i-.fi never recovered ber reason, but disease al 

 lime- uvcri'i'ivered lier rmiiigs, and a few short 

 „i, ,„ ii., I rm mated her sufferings. 



|: (1 , H ,-n lues, a prominent cili/eu of this citv. 

 ] ( )o not doubt tlmt jou have seen him. Either 

 tin- influence of Ins wile or Ibe tearlut experience 

 i, filial year, c-liangt d him somewhat lor the hetlur 

 He is an old man now, but the world has seeming 

 ly forgotten the follies and sins of bis early man- 

 hood, and he is held in respect by many. 



I Tree to Club Agent, . ,,, 



PUBLISHER'S SPECIAL NOTICES. 



them speclmei 



i published strictly 



^Jrocrttacmcuts. 



'SIS' 



[. WORCESTER offers for 



<;i;\ 





T.»:,'^: 





D. B. DeLANB, 



. _'.:t fully Intern 





TARTAR, Bt CAA- 





MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER, 



Agricultural, Literary and Family Weekly, 



