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The Artist of the Beautiful
"Aplagueonsuchingenuity!AlltheeffectthateverIknewofitwastospoiltheaccuracyofsomeofthebestwatchesinmyshop.Hewouldturnthesunoutofitsorbitandderangethewholecourseoftime,if,asIsaidbefore,hisingenuitycouldgraspanythingbiggerthanachild’stoy!"
"Hush,father!Hehearsyou!"whisperedAnnie,pressingtheoldman’sarm."Hisearsareasdelicateashisfeelings;andyouknowhoweasilydisturbedtheyare.Doletusmoveon."
SoPeterHovendenandhisdaughterAnnieploddedonwithoutfurtherconversation,untilinaby-streetofthetowntheyfoundthemselvespassingtheopendoorofablacksmith’sshop.Withinwasseentheforge,nowblazingupandilluminatingthehighandduskyroof,andnowconfiningitslustretoanarrowprecinctofthecoal-strewnfloor,accordingasthebreathofthebellowswaspuffedforthoragaininhaledintoitsvastleathernlungs.Intheintervalsofbrightnessitwaseasytodistinguishobjectsinremotecornersoftheshopandthehorseshoesthathunguponthewall;inthemomentarygloomthefireseemedtobeglimmeringamidstthevaguenessofunenclosedspace.Movingaboutinthisredglareandalternateduskwasthefigureoftheblacksmith,wellworthytobeviewedinsopicturesqueanaspectoflightandshade,wherethebrightblazestruggledwiththeblacknight,asifeachwouldhavesnatchedhiscomelystrengthfromtheother.
