HELEN OF TROY.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 2, 1 November 1899, Page 9

HELEN OF TROY.

By Guy H. Scholefield.

111 it si ra led hi/ Miss Moor

ifPjjHEY sat in the studio — and sitting room combined — of "The Parthenon,'' in the comfortable glare of the lire ;ind a huge lamp that hung from the ceiling, made doubly cosy by the sound of the elements without. To their minds, also, there was comfort in the very untidiness of the .surroundings, books, stationery, and artists' paraphernalia strewing the shelves and sideboards in hopeless confusion. They were sifting out titbits to their liking in the daily papers and the latest magazines* This was an artist tyro. Some of his pictures, recognisable by all the baldness of his initials, "F. L.," were frequently exhibited on the walls of the Art Society ; others, inscribed "Pleo," were known only to a narrow circle. The subjects were sentimental, and to disclose his identity as the painter of these would be far indeed from the heart of a young colonial. That was an author tyro, the perpetrator of tales and sketches of pardonable quality and hopeful promise. This and That were friends, the sole inmates of "The Parthenon," a cottage retreat which afforded immunity from molestation and the pleasure of "two's company." The name was emblazoned on the front door —a sullen veto to the frivolous.

* * * * That (looking up suddenly from paper) : " I say, Fred." This (heaving a deep sigh) : " Say away." That : " You know I reckon I'm about the only litterateur in this place." This (cynically) : " Yes ? There won't probably be many on the Macquaries either." That : " You are inclined to be decidedly funny. Queer, though, isn't it ? And quite a number of fellows at College gave ' evidence of literary ability,' as they say."

This : "Oh ! 1 don't know cither that it's so funny. There is plenty of time yet. Heaps of fellows do not develop anything

decided until they are well on in life. Most of the present, day authors " That: "Thai's true of course ; but. then I've been at it for some considerable time now, you must remember." This (unwilling to admit) : " Something may turn up yet. 'There's whips of cherries at Kihikihi.' Surprises come from the most unexpected quarters. But while we're on the subject, I believe I'm about the only fellow daubing in real earnest within a few miles of here." That : v Not quite." This (indignant) : v Who else is (.here r" That: "Oh! J. don't care to mention names. Don't know that I could. Besides, comparisons are odious. Kverybody has been an artist in his day. I've been known to do it myself— long ago when I was at school. I drew a man and called him lulus. The fellows said it was very prudent of me to put the name below him." (A pause). This: "By the way, I .found rather a pretty little yarn to-day in the Mail. Perhaps it will interest you. It seems to be original." (Reaches over to chiffonier). That: "Perhaps. But 1 wouldn't suspect you of reading a ' protty little yarn,' if you saw one. Bar, of course, ' Painters of the Renaissance.' " This (throws paper across table) : " It's about the middle L think. J3y ' Pakeha.' " (Settles down to Art Notes in the Triad). That (turning over leaves ostentatiously) : "Ah, here we are! 'Helen of Troy,' by ' Pakeha.' Queer mixture to begin with. Don't fancy Pakeha for a name at all. T(.o bally common." (Commences to read aloud with special accent). This : " Oh, shut up ! I've read it already." (Both settle down. Silence for v few minutes). This (yawning) ; " Well, how dees it

augur so far?" That (petulantly): "By Jove ! it's a dashed good style, isn't it? He seems to be a bit of a writer, all right." This : " Struck me so at any rate." That : " Doesn't it strike you that the lieroine -isn't altogether a aw, well, perhaps not either. Seemed to me that I had seen something in real life — " (Settle down for a few minutes). That (throwing paper on table) : " We agree this time, Fred ; it is a deuced good little yarn. At least it gave me a sort of a feeling, so it must be a little above; the

average." This : " Then you felt .lolly queer idea of mine when I read it. I had the same feeling, at least, I suppose it would be the one, since we live together. A sort of familiar feeling, eh?" That (uneasily) : "Just that." (A short pause). This: "By the way, [ heard it said at Te Korero that Pakelia was a local fellow. That's what made me think there might be i some others about here. You don't happen to know another writer fellow, I suppose? "

That: "Not at all. I hit nil y think there can be. I don't think particularly much of his style either." (Revulsion proceeds with slight feeling of jealousy). " It's a wretchedly booky style." (Snatches at paper). "Listen here : ' Sunny auburn hair, blue eyes, perfect mouth.' We've heard it all before from Annie Swan. Just like the heroine of any book." • This (aside): "The old, old story. Poor Jack ! Just the same as when we used to play for the school together." — (Aloud). — " And someone in real life too, I think. A uhuraotiT Hl<e that must be drawn from life."

That: "Not necessarily. These booky characters are, generally, horribly overdrawn. None of them have any realistic nature about them. Yon would understand if you knew about these things. The Helen of it is really almost too entirely good for any girl — almost any girl, isn't it? My idea is to do something really real. The ideal is played out; it's all a bally farce." This : " Perhaps so. But in art, you know, the ideal is everything. The real only takes a secondary place when it is all washed up." That : "Oh ! excuse me Kred, for V interrupting yon, lint I ninst tell yon while | 1 remeni-

her. You didirt go to the Exhibition today. Well, you missed something." — (Livening up). — " By Jove ! I tell you it was something, too ! Here — oh ! yes, this will do. Here's the catalogue. I'm no sort of a critic among pictures, but there's a new one on the south wall opposite the windows. No. 473, here it is."— (Hands catalogue to This). — " Of course that is nothing like the original ; it's not so bad either, but, by Jove, it's a stunner, 1 can tell you !" This (surveys reproduction, makes a few incoherent remarks, and shuffles feet un-

easily): " Sui'ely, I've seen the original of this. Have you?" That: "Both." This (slowly draws catalogue away and throws it on table) : " Both ? This and the original ? ' J.G. Wonder who is the artist. 'J.G.' — Jack Gosset it would do for. Ha! ha !" — (Laughs against his conscience). That : " And it is ! Congratulate me, Fred." This (pokes fire vehemently) : " I'Vnm life. 'Sunny auburn hair, blue eyes, etc,' doesn't that Pakeha thing suit her to a T ?" — (Talks incoherently). That: "Her? Who?" This : " Ethel — the picture, I mean." That (startled) : " What the— what, do you know of Ethel ? Who said, " This: " Just about as much as Pakeha does of Helen of Troy, perhaps more. Isn't thai the feeling yon had ?" That: "Hut you are not Pakeha. It's 100 bad, Fred ! By heaven ! it's too bad altogether ! You've played me a wretchedly mean trick. Comparisons are odious." This : " And I return your sentiments. You've played me a horribly mean trick. A queer feeling, common to us both. I'd like to tell you that ' Helen of Troy ' is an authorised edition, Jack. Perhaps it will save you a deal of heartburning." That : " Indeed, the very opposite. You won't believe that No. 473 is not only authorised, but ' by request.' " This : " Then she sat for you ?" That: "Three times." This : " Where ? Here, at the Parthenon ?" That : " Here, before your easel, and you mean to say you did not suspect it ?" This : "When I was out. 1 can't forgive you this, Jack. That's where all my colors and megilp went. We cannot, be friends any longer." That : " No, Fred, don't say that ! There's really no reason why they should not go "long very well together, and us, too, for a time." This : " Helen of Troy and Pakeha ? I assure you they do, more than you would wish to believe."

That : " No, 1 mean to say Helen of Troy and No. 473. Wo'll do very well, too, Fred, if we can stop speaking now." This : " I would rather not. it's no uso stringing it on any further. It will only make a greater split, and you could never be the same afterwards." That: "After what?" This : "Oh ! when it is ail over and you are still plain .lack (iosset. Rather when she's not Mrs (if.sset. You'll sell me fliis picture then, won't you r" That: There's ample time to make such arrangments, my dear fellow. Perhaps you will wish you'd never seen it some day." This : " I haven't seen it yet." That: "And you never shall. Hut let's shake hands for the present and have a cup of cocoa. I'm cold." This ' " And I'm hot — deuced hot." That: " .Let me make the cocoa, then r" This : " Oh ! no, not at all ; there arc still a few little things I can do for myself. And then there will be someone to look after these things when 1 am too old." — (Laughs). That: "Oh! leave that alone now. We'll each make our own private arrangements. If they clash — well, good night."- (Lights a candle). — " I'm off to doss. You might give my regards to lllthe.l. 1 don't think 1 shall see her again. Good night." This (conciliatory): "There's whips of cherries at Kihikihi, Jack, (iood night." - (Door closes. Aside). — " Poor Jack, he's not a bad fellow after all. I was hoist with my own petard properly. No man on earth ever could make a face like that. 1 don't believe he could do it again if he tried. Wonder what he puts on it. 1 must have it at any price. One never knows where surprises arc coming from." * # * * This and That are out. Another mate now occupies the Parthenon with Fred Lowe. No. 473 hangs over the studio mantlepicce, a wedding present from Jack Goßset. This and That mutually suspect that they have mistaken their calling, but have sworn never to dabble again in other men's provinces.