The Sunday Oregonian., August 21, 1910, SECTION SIX, Page 2, Image 61

THE SUJTliAY OREGOXIAN, PORTLAND. AUGUST 21," 1910.
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Tbars's bssaty all around our paths, if but
our watchful eyes
trac it midst familiar thins ana
tareucb thslr lowly guise.
WAS with some such thought as
this coursing through her brain that
h. irtut mtartpA tar her afternoon's
ramble, sketch book under her arm. do
termination bent on discovering the
beauty that lay across her path.
By, some fell fate the Summer's vaca-
mldst oM world scenes had had to
bo foregone. Majestic cathedrals, castles
along tho Rhine, vine-covered French
chateaux.- chalets nestled among the
Swiss Alps, picturesque scenes along- the
canals of Holland an these had been
denied, brushed rudely aside by one
brief telegram. It had taken more than
tho usual amount of courage to face the
disappointment. But because the Artist
was a cheerful young person, with a good
digestion and not given to morbid in
trospection or questioning of things that
are, sho set about to make tho best
of It,
Coming some months before, from tho
prairie country, where tho dead mo
notony of vast fields of waving grain had
fretted her artist's soul, the rugged
charm of tho Coast country had satisfied
tho longings of her heart and sho had
reveled In her opportunity to reproduce
with pencil or brush the charm of lofty
mountain peak, the beauty of tall pines
silhouetted against tho blue of Oregon
Summer sky, the broad sweep of tho
Willamette dotted with craft of all sorts
and the rugged canyons sentmeiea Dy
centurv-old firs. Her sketch book was
full of such as these and along Its mar
gins were studies of picturesque human
ity that had caught her Taney; now the
turbaned head of a Hindu laborer, now a
fascinating Chinese tot In gay -Oriental
attire, again a timber cruiser or forest
ranger, or a fisherman mending his net.
- fc
"It shall bo none of these today," she
mused, as' she swung along Jthe city's
streets. "All these tho untrained eye
would recognize as picturesque, worthy
tho activity of my pencil. No, If art has
done anything for mo It will havo taught
me:
To see ths beauty that forever springs
In oomraon. unregarded things.
'Portland' spirit," she mused on, "is
tho biggest, finest thing about her. What
better expresses this sprlt than tho In
dustries that are building herT I will
go forth to catch tho spirit."
It was In her quest of the spirit of
tho growing young giantess of the West
that tho artist filled her sketch book with
tho accompanying sketches:
In Portland's great lumber mills He the
romance of her vast Umber belts, for
hero tho monarch of the forest, that
havo grown up In the silences, far from
the haunts of man, como In contact with
human lives, human toll and activity.
From here they ore sent across the con
tinent or over tho seas to tho Orient,
lending themselves to manifold uses and
helping to build up great fortunes for
tlmbermen, manufacturers and vessel
owners.
The .flouring mills; whoso vast eleva
tors and warehouses are massed pic
turesquely at the' foot of the precipitous
bank along the river's brink, receive tho
thousands of acres of golden grain grown
In tho Pacific Northwest and send it
forth to feed hungry mlllons tho world
over.
The packing houses in Columbia
Slough represent a now and growing In
dustry. They tell tho story of vast cat
tle ranges through Eastern and Central
Oregon and whisper of ancient feuds be
tween the sheep and cattle men. They
tell a story of modern methods, of Uncle
Sara's Inspection the care ho exercises
over the public health refrigerater sys
tems and all the many problems worked
out by the Ingenious mind of man.
The scene "South of tho Steel Bridge"
shows lumber being loaded from a barge
onto a sea-going vessel anchored at this
point, and gives a hint at tho river traf
fic, the accommodation for ocean liners,
and enormous trade with the Orient.
The Summer is nearly over and the
Artist's quest Is through. Instead of
scenes along tho Bhine, she' has caught
tho spirit of tho industrjr of the Columbia
and the Willamette; Instead of the slopes
of Ehrenbreitstein she has looked up
from tho bottom of Marquam Gulch and
pictured the' homes and activities that
are centered there, with smoke of
the ' great mills blowing a message of
prophecy to tho hills beyond. Her
sketch book chronicles no dead glories,
no half-forgotten pasts, but draws the
Future In broad lines and deep and who
will say hat even In our newness there
Is a lack of the beautiful, the pictur
esque? '