Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1860-10-05
Eia bt Rea . ina.
The Mysterious Sketch.

and narrow, with notched gables, and dim
window panes. and its roof surmounted by
plaster virgin. In this inn | passed the
saddest days Of my life. I had gone to
Nuremberg to study the old German mas
ters, but the want of money had compelled
me to have recourse to painting portraits
and such portraits! Fat gossips, with their
cats on their knees, aldermen in perukes,
burgomasters in three cornered hats, etc.
all brilliant with ochre and vermillion.
From portraits I descended to sketches,
then to profles at last, even these failed
me.
There is nothing more pitiable than to
have constantly at your heels landlord
with thin lips, screaming voice and an
impudent air, who never loses a chance to
call out care you going to pay me soon,
monsieur? Do you know how much your
bill amounts to? Oh, no of course this
does not trouble you. Monsieur eats,
drinks, and sleeps quietly. The good Lord
takes care of the little sparrows. Mon
sieur only owes two hundred forins and
ten kreutzers. A mere trifie not worth
the trouble of mentioning"
Those who have never heard this gamut
sounding in their ears, can form no idea of
the horrors of it. The love of art, magma
ton, the lofty enthusiasm for the beautiful
wither at the very breath of such rascal
You become weak and timid you lose
even the sentiment Of your personal dignity
and salute at distance, and respectfully
the most clownish of burgomasters.
One night, having not a sou in my pock-
ct, and being threatened with prison by
the worthy master, Rapp, I sat down on
my truckle bed and gave myself up to re-
Election. The thought of suicide entered
my head and the more I reflected the
more desirable such an exit from my troub-
les appeared to my mind. So numerous
and convincing were the arguments in it's
favor which thronged upon me, that l dar-
ed not look upon my razor, lest the ire
sistible force of logic should compel me to
cut my throat. At length blew out my
candle, and threw myself on the bed, with
determination to come to a decision the
next day.
My dreams were usually of the abomin-
able Rapp; my one desire, to get money
that | might rid myself of his odious pres
ence. But this nj ght a singular revolution
took place in my mind. In about an hour
| rose, and wrapping myself in an old gray
over coat, [ began 20 trace on paper a
rapid sketch in the Dntch style-something
strange, fantastic, quite apart from my
habitual conceptions.
Imagine to yourself sombre court, in
closed by high, dilapidated walls. These
walls, garnished with hooks seven or eight
feet from the ground, uggest, at once, a
slaughterhouse. On the left, through a
trellis work of laths, you discern quarter
ed OK, suspended by strong pulleys from
the ceiling drops of blood tricklmg from
it collect in gutter obstructed by the re-
fuse of the shamblcs. The light IN the
court comes from above, where chimneys,
| weatheroocks, and stored roofs of houses,
are relieved against an angle of the sky
At the extremity is a shed beneath it is
wood pile, upon which is ladder, and
scattered around are seen ropes, bundles
of straw, rabbit hut, and hencoops, past
service.
How did these heterogeneous details
come into my head? I cannot tell. I had
no rememberanc of any such place, and yet
every stroke of the pencil seemed by it's
very truthfullness an exact copy. Moth
ing was wanting,
But on the right. corner of the sketch
remained bare. did not know what to
mt tboro b1t T uoc d;cou;otoJ oo;.a+1
as looked upon it. Suddenly | saw a
door, but it was in reverse position and
detached from the ground. Spite of its
improbability, I followed the inspiration
and sketched it, without stopping to ac-
count for my fancy. Then the leg ap-
peared, and a portion of the dress. Then
the whole fgure,-an old woman, wan,
disheveled, thrown down by astrong hand,
which grasped her throat.
1t was murder that I was sketching =
The crayon fell from my hands. The old
woman-her face contrasted by terror, her
form bent over the margin Of the well, both
hands grasping the arm of her murderer
terrified me. dared not look at her. =
But the man-the murderer-to whom the
arm belonged? [ could not see him. 1t
was impossible for me to finish the sketch.
The sweat drops stood upon my brow
''I am fatigued," | said ''But little re-
mains to be done I will complete it to
morrow - and, terrified by the vision,
lay down upon my bed, and in five min
utes slept profoundly.
The next day as I was about to resume
my work, a knock resounded at the door,
Come in,'' l called out and man
somewhat advanced in years, tall, thin, and
dressed in black, appeared upon the thresh-
| hold. The whole physiognomy of the man
his closely approximating eyes, his large
acqueline nose, his lofty, broad, and bony
brow-had something severe and imposing
He salutcd me grayely
IN. Christian VENUS, the artist he
said
t*Ihat is my name, sir.
He bowed again, adding:
1.-The Baron Frederick Van Spreckdal."
The apparition in my poor garret of this
rich amateur, judge of the criminal court.
impressed me strongly. I threw glance
upon my worm eaten furniture, tattered
draperies, and dirty floor, and felt humilia-
ted but Van Spreckdal appeared to pay
no attention to these details
master VENUS" he resumed, ''I have
come
But at this moment his eye was arrested