The Weekly Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, O. [Ohio]) 1861-1???, 1866-04-13
Selected gtoru.
FIVEHUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS

FIVEHUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS
There is no doubt that was lion.
was made to feel it wherever went. Peo-
pie nudged each other in passing me in the
street, and whispered, There he isl"
Protessed lion-hunters beseiged me; my
rooms weie deluged with cards congratu
lations criticism aud counsel were offered
me gratuitously; lady-like mammas smiled
upon Inc beautiful girls looked at me with
interest and admiration in their innocent
eyes now al d then some true soul spoke
words that were dearer than gold.
Some of this was very pleasant; but there
were compensating Inconvenience. I'm
prints, my pockets were still woirly emp
ty, for my works had brought me more re-
nown than money, and | was appropriating
all my funds as fast as they accumulated, to
the payment of debts contracted in less
promising times. | longed to lift that
weight from my shoulders. Artists do not
borrow their tints from the hues of earth
and sky, and canvass and brushes are coarse
material things that demand an exchange OF
filthy lucre. So was still forced to work
away as bard as ever.
In consequence, my popularity i'll socle'
ty was somewhat embarrassing, because, TO
say nothing of the encroachments upon my
time, etiquette prescribes a respectable at
tire. ] brushed my best coat clear through
to the lining before ! could make up my
mind to discard it, and as for gloves, every
pair bought cost me an unutterable pang.
And then-ah there the missing oi it
it was inexp.essib mortifying to be upon
familiar terms with tine beautiful young
girls before alluded to, and have al the.
time a profound CONSCIOUSNESS that the
man in the moon would have been consid-
cred q much more eligible suitor than |.
Considering all these things, bore my
self very meekly. | have no doubt ! was
thought very modest that did not roar any
louder-such remarkable lion as | was.
1 still lived in my third floor, managed my
own very economical housekeeping, and
found the best of my life in my art.
But have not told you how attained
my questionable eminence. had picture
at the Exhibition of the Royal Academy OF
Design. 1t was only foaming waste of
green waters, q stretch of yellowy sand IN
the foreground, a bit Of rocky sea wall hol-
lowed by the waves, a dun sky, with storm
clouds flying wildly before the wind, and
low down in the west break in the gloom,
whence a shaft Of lurid light glancing out,
just touched a pale, dead face rising ghast'
ly and terrible above the tempest-driven
breakers. This picture was not an out.
growth ofmy life. / did not put my soul
into it as had too often done before. 1t
was merely an inspiration of morbid fan
cy flung upon the canvass in a freak. But
it was weird, eccentric, peculiar, and took
the public by storm. 1t made me lion.
One evening a soiree was gwen at the
Derby Gallery, and several artists lent their
L.. onsl
there 1t new hung upon the wall of the gal.
lery. had refused to sell it T; and thus at
this soiree it was among the foremost at
fractions. eEg ~ fal
That was gala night, more like scene
from some fairy tale than real event in
this prosaic, working ags. Stately men, and
beautiful gifted women stood in groups
before some triumph of art, or walked
about conversing in low. soft tones. ItwaR
all quiet, dreamy and delicious.
Standing not far from my picture
could not help hovering near it with a kind
of jealous care-a bevy of fair girls passed
and stopped before my treasure.
am so eager to see this wonderful pic
ture. You know | was out of town when
it was exhibited" said one.
looked at the speaker. A face like one
of Titan's women hair of warm gold eyes
sunny hazel, limpid as crystal. The small
head was thrown back, those striking eyes.
cnolly fixed upon the picture. 1t was plain
tho lady thought herself a competent critic.
"It is a strange beautiful thing" she
said at last. 6 don't think | wholly like
it-but-"
"oh, Miss yandermeycr :" cried the
rest in chorus.
:" must buy it, think
"VeIy cool, young lady" thought. She
surveyed it still more critically-tnls girl
OF twenty summers.
alt is too morbid in its tone but have
nook at home where it will just tit-my
chamber of horrors, coll it. You may see
ghost there at mid-day any time, if you
like. Who is the artist? Can't somebody
find him for me I" with the air of duch-
ess. Htf grflal
There was furtive looking about, then
buzzing whisper, and Miss Vandermeyer
turned her eyes upon me. In a moment
she was before me.
=" Mr., Delafeld, would like to buy your
picture"
7" don't wish to sell it" replied coldly.
She made an impatient gesture--lust a
little saucy wave of the hand.
| want 60 buy il. How much do you
ask 20
Tle gold brown eyes fixed upon my face
with a quiet audaciiy that amazed me.
named sum that meant should startle
her.
twenty-five hundred dollars"
"Very well. will send my servant in
the morning to take il down"
started.
"Miss Vaudermeyer don't wish to sell
my picture" For the first time she seemed
70 comprehend me.
Don: wish TO sell itl What did you
paint it for? / thought artists painted
their pictures to SELL; her eyes sparkling
as she spoke.