Samuel Hopkins Adams

“ There I sat working away with a will, when I heard the drumming of hoofs, and a horse with a girl in the saddle came whizzing round the turn almost upon me. Just there the rain had made a puddle of thick sticky mud, the mud-pie variety. As the horse went by at full gallop, a fine, fat, mud pie rose, soared through the air, and landed in the middle of my painting. ”

“ I finished. “No. There is no one but my aged and highly respectable Chinaman to play propriety. But in the case of a studio, les convenances are not so rigid but that one may look at pictures unchaperoned.”
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t do,” she answered, smiling. “No, I’ll have to wait until—” A shadow passed over her face. “I’m afraid I’ll have to give it up.”
Chance settled that point then and there. As she finished, she was in my arms. The girth had loosened, and the saddle had turned with her. I had barely time to twist her foot from the stirrup when the brute of a horse bolted. ”

“ Young as she seemed, she had been much about the world, knew her Europe, had met and talked with men of many pursuits, and had taken from all sources tribute for her mind and color for her imagination. ”