[5] Two days afterward the customer came in again, and he did notice the picture. You haf here a fine bicture, madame.
[6]Yes? said Miss Martha, reveling in her own cunning white wrapping the stale loaves. I do so admire art and paintings.., you think it is a good picture?
[7] Der balance, said the customer, is not in good drawing. Der bairspective of it is not true. Goot morning, madame.
[8] He took the stale bread, bowed politely, and hurried out; Miss Martha carried the picture back to her room. How gentle and kindly his eyes shone behind his spectacles! To be able to judge perspective at a glance-- and to live on stale bread! But Miss Martha realized that, unfortunate though it is, genius often has to struggle before it is recognized.
[9] Following that incident, the gentle-mannered artist (for so she thought of him now) would chat for a while. He continued to order the stale bread never a cake, never a pie, never one of the other delicious pastries in the showcase. He was beginning to look thinner and very discouraged. Miss Martha became concerned; her sympathetic heart ached to add some delicacy to his meager purchase, but her courage failed. She did not dare affront him, for she understood the pride of artists.
[10] Miss Martha * took to wearing her blue-dotted silk waist behind the counter. One day the customer came in as usual, laid his nickel on the showcase, and called for his stale loaves. While Miss Martha was reaching for them there was a great tooting and clanging, and a fire engine came lumbering past.
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2016-03-17
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