broad snowscape in the hot drowsy weather, with the growing certainty that he was doing something that measured up to his dream of portraying the city he loved, picturing it with the accurate fidelity of a map and yet with the loving eye of an artist who lingers over the beauty that most of us only intuitively suspect. The painting was finished early in the autumn and the ambitious young artist looked forward eagerly to the triumphant day when it would be hung in the new office of the Electric Company, which had encouraged the work and made it possible.
Then came the influenza epidemic, and the artist was among the first to be carried off by that tragic pestilence. He died without seeing his painting put up in the place of honor it now occupies. In his modesty he did not even put his name on the canvas—or at least if he did it is written so minutely that one hunts for it in vain.
It is good to know that the Philadelphia Electric Company is going to erect a bronze tablet in his memory beside the splendid painting on which he worked for a year and a half.
The name of the artist was Claud Joseph Warlow, well remembered at the Academy of the Fine Arts as one of its most promising pupils in recent years. He was born in Williamstown, Pa., March 31, 1888, and died in this city October 6, 1918. His skill as an artist was apparent even as a boy; chalk drawings that he made on the blackboard at school were so good that they were allowed to re-
