rather by suggestion than demonstration. It is present but restrained, held in check by fortitude. The result is that essential quality in all good sculpture-repose, restfulness, quiescent unity.

Mr. French won his spurs as a sculptor some years ago. His «Minute Man » at Boston and his «Death and the Sculptor gave him artistic rank; and the thousands who visited the Columbian Exposition cannot fail to remember his colossal statue of the «Republic» in 1 See THE CENTURY for April, 1893.

the Court of Honor. Like many another artist, his American education has been broadened by years of residence and study in Europe. He has served his apprenticeship and had his day of foreign travel; to-day he is among us living in his age of production. He is well equipped, and, in company with several other sculptors of note, he is giving forth work that is not only creditable to his native land, but would be distinguished in any land. John C. Van Dyke.

2 See THE CENTURY for May, 1892.

THERE

The Protégé.

HERE was a right curious case in this neighborhood,» my visitor said. I was sinking into something like a state of hypnotism, and the long-continued flow of words and click of knitting-needles were beginning to produce a faintly pleasurable sensation.

I don't know whether you might call it curious either, but there was right much talk about it at the time, and a heap of people were down on Miss Delia and Miss Lidy. And it did look foolish the way they did; but I reckon people next door to starvation have their feelings, like the rest of us.

I reckon you 've seen that little miserable-looking house that sets right in the edge of the woods by Drake's Branch, with the stained-glass windows, and the little cupelo on top? That's where they lived, Miss Delia and Miss Lidy, and I never did see a house that favored the people inside it like that did, somehow.

Many 's the time I've been there with waiters of things for them-bread and butter, and bacon and tea, and I don't know what all. People in the neighborhood certainly were good to them; but they were real nice old ladies, if they were sorter thin and fidgety and fly-upthe-creek. Nobody ever took 'em things but in a waiter, no matter what it was, not wanting to hurt their feelings. They were mightily outdone with Mrs. Wilkins once for sending 'em a basket. "T was just about Christmas time, and she sent them a turkey, and a bucket of sausage, and cake, and mince-pie, and everything. But it certainly did hurt their feelings-being in a basket. It 'most spoilt that Christmas for them, having things sent them like she'd send them to a beggar; because they certainly were nice old ladies. But Mrs. Wilkins did n't mean a bit of harm.

I reckon it was right lonesome there in the edge of the woods, with the owls and the whippoorwills, and nothing much to occupy them, on account of their eyes. Both their eyesights had given out long before my time. I reckon it is 'most always that way with twins-they fail along together.

"Well, they were so exactly like each other I expect they did n't find each other any company at all. It was

like sitting up all day and looking in the looking-glass. And there war n't any use in talking, any more than in talking out loud to yourself, when you knew beforehand just exactly what the other one was going to say to you. And so that Christmas Mrs. Wilkins insulted 'em with that basket it came over me that I had n't sent 'em a thing for going on a fortnight. Jemmy had had the measles, and Mr. Tompkins's sister, Emma Jane, had been staying with me, with five children that I thought sure were going to catch it, and I'd been so worried that Miss Delia and Miss Lidy had clean slipped out of my mind. And so I fixed up a real nice waiter of everything good I had, and a box of meat and flour and things like that (they did n't mind boxes like they did baskets), and I got Jack to drive me over in the spring-wagon, though 't was a mighty cold winter, and I thought I'd have frozen solid before I got there.>>

She paused a moment to count her stitches.

« Thirty-one, thirty-two- They always were sort of finicky about their house. On each side of the walk they kept nice white rocks fixed in rows, and everything just as nice as they could make it; but 't was a mighty forlorn, tumbledown-looking little house-real pitiful looking.

"

« Well, I drove over there in the spring-wagon, and I certainly was glad when I saw a sorter flickering on the windows like fire. I never did see the place look so cheerful and lit up before.

«Miss Delia and Miss Lidy made a heap of fuss over me, like they always did, but there was something real funny and excited about them. They always did do like they were a heap gladder to see me than to see the things I'd brought them. The more they needed bread and meat to keep them from starving, the more they looked like they did n't care much about anything but the compliment of being thought of.

<< Well, they hurried me in to the fire, and, if you'll believe me, sitting there as comfortable as you please was a great strong-looking young fellow about as old as my Jack.

We have a guest,) Miss Delia whispered in one ear and Miss Lidy in the other. You might have knocked me down with a feather!

«He was a mighty ordinary-looking young man, I

thought, sorter sheepish and lazy-looking; but they seemed as proud of him as if he 'd been the governor of Virginia.

«I reckon from what they said afterward this Rooney Cravens must have been the son of an old beau of one of them, I don't know which; and it amused the neighborhood mightily. We thought he was just going to be there a day or two, and everybody around sent in all sorts of things to help Miss Delia and Miss Lidy out. I reckon he lived high, and thought he was in right good quarters.

"If you'll believe me, he stayed on and on and on; and it got to be pretty clear that he had no notion of going a great strapping man he was, too.

་

<< People got to be tired of it after a while, and there were some that talked right plainly to Miss Delia and Miss Lidy. And it did n't seem right for us to be supporting that good-for-nothing. He was just as good-fornothing as he could be, and, if the truth was known, he was nothing but a tramp when they took him in. I'd get so mad thinking of him sometimes I'd feel like I'd never send another morsel there for him to eat up; but then what would become of Miss Delia and Miss Lidy if people stopped helping 'em?

<< Well, this went on I don't know how long, -a year or more, and all the time Miss Delia and Miss Lidy were pinching and screwing and pampering that-that-I don't know what to call him (there ain't a bad enough word in the dictionary)—till they were nearer skin and bone than ever, and quoting him all the time like he was Solomon, till everybody was down on them. Some people left off sending them anything, and other people sorter grudged them what they did give, so that things went right hard with them. But their heads were just as hard as rocks about that Rooney.

"Well, they managed to get on some way, and all the time that Rooney Cravens just flourished. You could see him, any time of day, sitting on a barrel out in front of the Cross Roads store, cutting sticks and telling jokes. I never had the patience to listen to him myself, but they say he could make you split your sides laughing; specially when he took off Miss Delia and Miss Lidy.

<< There did n't seem to be any chance of a change for the better, and we just did n't know what to do, when suddenly, lo and behold, Mr. Rooney took himself off!

"We certainly did congratulate ourselves. We just laughed in our sleeves, and thought we'd sorter starved him out. We had a real rejoicing all over the neighborhood.

« But you'd have been sorry for poor Miss Delia and Miss Lidy if you'd seen how they grieved. They did n't know where he'd gone any more than the rest of us, and they looked like they'd lost their last friend. I could n't help feeling for them, but I'd get right mad with them, too, to hear them talk.

«He was so sensitive, they were always saying, over and over and over again. He knew people in the neighborhood had taken a prejudice against him, and it hurt him so he could n't stay.)

"I got mighty tired of hearing all these lamentings over Rooney, but so long as he was n't there I tried to

do what I could for the poor old ladies. I don't know but what we did more for them than we had before he ever came, to make up for the sorter boycott we'd been carrying on. We all went there real often, and carried them things, and we did think we were shut of Rooney Cravens forever.

« Well, I don't reckon it was more than two months after he left that I drove over there one day with two dressed chickens and a pat of butter, and some other things. I put my knitting in my pocket, thinking I would pay the old ladies a nice long visit. I never could bear to go when that Rooney Cravens was hanging around, and I'd been trying ever since to make up for it.

<<I'd been sitting there about an hour when I heard feet come tramping up the walk and into the house. We all three looked at each other, and jumped up, and, if you'll believe me, Miss Delia and Miss Lidy clapped their hands like they had clean gone distracted. They ran and opened the door faster than I thought they could, and such a 'miration as they made over that Rooney Cravens I never saw since I've been born.

«I sat there mighty stiff and awkward, not saying a word, just turning off my knitting as hard as I could, so I could go. I think Miss Delia and Miss Lidy had forgotten I was there-'mirating over that precious Rooney!

<< He sorter hung back, as they tried to draw him in to the fire, and I thought at first it was on account of me, because he always had a shamefaced, hangdog way about him when the neighbors were around, as well he might.

(

«But he put his hands in his pockets, and stood on his heels, and actually kinder winked at me. Wait a minute, he said; I—I left something outside I 've got to get. Miss Delia and Miss Lidy looked at each other, and I could see what they thought shining in their faces. I could n't help softening to him a little myself.

«I do believe he 's brought them a nice ham or turkey, or a pair of blankets, or something, I was saying in my mind when the door opened.

«He had brought them something! Bless your heart, he surely had brought them something!-Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight->>

She finished her counting before she went on. « He surely had brought them something!

«He kinder giggled, and shoved in a big yellowhaired girl, who looked around her as cool as a cucumber. My wife, ladies, says Mr. Rooney, just like that.

« We all started like we 'd been shot,-I know I did, and Miss Delia and Miss Lidy looked at her for a minute, real stupid.

«I was just looking for the old ladies to show 'em the door, but, lo and behold, if you 'll believe me, they went right up to that girl and put their arms around her! And what do you reckon they said to her-both of them?

<<<Welcome home, my dear, just that way-Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two-welcome home, my dear, if you'll believe my words!

( What made you do it?) I said to Rooney, feeling like I'd like to wring his neck.

"He was sitting on the arm of the little haircloth sofa, chewing the end of a match and swinging his feet. A fellow dared me, he said, just like that.»

Annie Steger Winston.