The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-05-10

my DEAR excellent, amiable, Herr Schiller
macher. let me paint your portrait 2 - :
The Herr Schliermacher smiled and shook
his head erE o-u-
Not mine he said 4 would not give a
kreutzer for my own portrait but my
daughter s--'
Twill paint her for you in any style you
please. Only tell me what you wish done,
and will do it. -i .'s@. a''l ll!i
The banker was excessively amused.
Il must speak to Salome first, he replied.
| Cali upon me tomorrow at the same time,
and will tell you more about it.
He returned the following day, as he was
hidden, and to mis- supreme joy the banker
informed him that his daughter was willing
to sit, and that he might begin OIL the NOR
row. -. .-
| AS for terms, said he, we will make it
picture for picture. You shall paint my
daughters portrait, and when it is done you
shall receive your mothers in exchange
| Will that content you j.?
| Perfectly
And you will not object to paint my Sa-
| lone on a somewhat larger scale !?
| You shall have her at fulllength, life
size, after the manner Of Vandyke.'
And Herr Schliermacher was well salts
| fed, knowing that he had the best part OF
| the bargain.
Poor Ernst Christian Schoefer it was
his destiny. He fell desperately in love with
Salome Schliermacher. She was very love
| ly-lovely with the dazzling oriental lowell
ness of Rebecca-of Rachel-of Marianne.
He had not seen woman in Italy to com
pare with her. Her skin was of that soft,
rich, tender brown which SO enchants us i'll
the Madonna della Seggiola. Her eyes were
as brilliant and bewitching as those of the
Fornarina in the Palazzo Pitt. Her smile
stolen from Leonardo's portrait of Joanna of
Naples. Her hands, long white, slender,
were Vandyke's. Her gestures, her atti-
tudes, were Titian's. The young painter,
to the destruction Of his peace, -beheld in
her the rare and perfect epitome of all that
he had admired in art and despaired of in
nature. And Salome Schliermacher was as
charming as she was beautiful, and as Ca
PRECIOUS as either. 1t seemed to be her de-
light to enchant, to torment, to bewilder her
unfortunate victim. To-day she would be
all mirth, o-morrow all gravity; to-day all
affable, tomorrow all reserve. Sometimes
she would talk of poetry, of music, of art,
and talk of them, too with intelligence and
enthusiasm. At other times she would
prattle of none but the most childish mat
ters, and pout at a seHous word
Then she was the most tiresome of sitters
She changed her mind about the dress in
which she would be painted, about the atti-
tude, the background, the accessories, fifty
times, at least, during the progress of the
work. She would be taken in her ordinary
dress; she would be taken in her riding
habit; she would be taken as Jessica with
the casket; as Ruth with the corn sheaf on
her head-there was no end to her caprices,
and there promised to be no end to the pic
tuTe.
And all the time the infatuated young
painter thought each new dress and
attitude more becoming than
the last, and Penelope-like, spent as much
time in undoing his work as in doing it. ri
when it is once finished, thought he,
all will be over. Ishall no longer hear the
daily music of her voice. shall not dare in
trude upon her privacy; | shall be as much
parted from her as we if had lived In two
separate henispheres. What better, then, can
desire than that the pic ture may stay in
progress forever P '-e-y @--f b.-.-s@
He was ready in fact to spend his life up
on it; and am by no means prepared to say
that the beautiful Salome was not quite as
well disposed to prolong the task as him
self '@
Meanwhile, Ernst Christian was living
within an inch of starvation. Having once
be zen a pupil in the local school of art, he I
had been able to procure his painting ma
terials upon credit; but he found it more
difficult to get food and lodging Oh the same
terms. There were many days when he
wasted bread. There were nights when he
not where to lay his head His clothes were
worn so threadbare that he was ash AIMED to
be seen in them. Let those who have read
the lines of Savage, of Chatterton, of Heyne
supply the painful details of starvation. - |
There must be an end to all things NOR
tai, and despite alterations and delays innu-
merable, the portrait of Salome Schiller
macher at length approached completion.-
There could be no question of the artists
perfect success He mad been painting with
his heart as we'll as with his hand, and the
result was portrait of such force such del
icacy, such complete and lfe-like portrait
ure, as would have made the fame and for
tune of a painter in city less hopelessly
staguant than Ulm. The Jewess, holding
"a fan of peacocks feathers in her hand, and
dressed in a robe of white satin -brocaded
with gold, seemed almost to be stepping
from the frame. The smile flickered On her
lips; the fixture of her eye had motion in it
1t was a portrait that Paolo Veronese might
have designed, and Reubens painted.
Z Herr Schoefer, said the banker, when
he came in one morning to observe the pro
gress of the work, j am so content-nay, so
much more than content-that l will not
keep you longer without your mothers pic
ture. You can take it home with you, i'll
you choose, to-day. 80
Ernst was as grateful as if he had not al
ready earned it ten times over. He grasped
the bankers hand; he thanked him with
tears in his eyes; and went home to his gar
ret that afternoon happier than king.
The dear, dear portrait The portrait that
be had first seen in his fathers chamber that
memorable night, now more than eightyears
ago, when he first announced his desire to
be painter! 1t was not the least faded or
unchanged. The eyes had the same sad
sweetness as of old. The pale golden braids
shOne with an undiminished lustre
| lie set it before him on the table, and sat
uoWH W edI Ills evening lbeat ueIoto IT, II
seemed to light the sordid attic like glory.
1t gave quite delicious flavor to his lunip OF
stale bread and his slice of melon. 1t turn
ed the water in his pitcher into wine
Thus muuching and meditating, with his
eyes fixed all the time upon his newly re-
covered treasure he observed that the can
vass seemed to have warped away from the
stretcher at one Garner, and that the picture
bulged in the middle, as old pictures are
sometimes apt to do. He had long since re-
solved to carve an exquisite frame for it
some day; now it occurred to him that the
painting would be improved by what is
technically called backing That is to say
by being relieved fiom tension and pasted
down on freshly stained canvass.
1t would preserve as well as Improve it,