Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1866-02-01

His pupils admired it warmly, and nom
: more than myself. We all pronounced i
to be his masterpiece, and the artist wa
evidently Of our opinion.
The day of exhibition came at last.
had scarcely slept the previous night, anC
the early morning found me, with number
OF other students, waiting impatiently be
fore the yet unopened door When | ar
rived it wanted an hour to the time, but
half the day seemed to elapse before we
heard the heavy bolts give way inside, and
then forced our way through the narrow
barriers, had flown up the staircase, and
found mysclfin the first room before | re.
nfembered that | should have purchased a
catalogue at tlfe door. had not patience
however, to go back for it SO | strobe
round the room, looking eagerly for my pic
tnre. 1t was nowhere to be seen, and |
passed on to the next Here my search
was unsuccessful
q 1t must be in the third room," said to
myself, " where all the best works are
placed Well, if it be hung ever SO high,
or i'll ever so dark corner, it is, at all
events an honor to have ones picture in the
third room y
But, though | spoke so bravely, it was
with IA sinking heart ventured in. | could
not really hope for a good place among the
magnates of the art while in either of the
other rooms there had been possibility
that my picture might receive a toIerabe
position.
The house had formerly been the man
sion of merchant of enormous wealth, who
had left it with his valuable collection of
paintings. to the state The third room
had been the reCeption-chamber and the
space over the magnificent carved chimney
was assigned, as the place of honor, to the
best painting. The painter of this picture
always received a costly prize for which he
was likewise indebted to the muniicence of
the founder. To this spot my eyes were
naturally turned as | entered the door Was
| dreaming? | stood still turned hot
and cold by turns ran forward 1t was
no Illusion. There was my picture, my
own picture, in its little modest frame, in
stalled in the chief place of the gallery
And there, too, was the official card stuck
in the corner with the words PRIZE PAINT
ING" printed upon tin shining gold letters
| ran down the staircase and bought a cat
alogue, that my eyes might be gladened by
the confirmation OF this joy; and there, sure
enough, was printed at the commencement,
" ANNUAL PRIZE PAINTING Tiew of Roiten-
dana No. l27--FRANK LINDEN" was never
tired of looking at my. picture. | walked
from one side to the other, | rctreated, ad-
vanced closer to it, looked at it in every
possible light, and forgot all but my hap
plness.
l." A very charming little painting, sir
said voice at my elbow.
1t was an elderly gentleman, with gold
spectacles and an umbrella | colorcd up
and said falteringly
Do you think so :"
81 do, sir" said the old gentleman. 81
am an amateur am very fond of pictures
| presume that you are also an admirer of
art ~
| bowed
Every nice little painting, indeed very
NICE" he continued, as he wiped his glasses
and adjusted them with the air ofa connois-
seur. water very liquid, colors pure, sky
transparent, perspective admirable. I'll
buy it."
"Will you ?" | exclaimed, joyfnlly. Oh,
thank you, sir !"
"Oh," said the old gentleman, turning
suddenly upon me and smiling kindly, so
you are the artist, are you? Happy to
make your acquaintance, Messer Linden.
You are IA very young man to paint such
picture as that. congratulate you, sir
and-Pll buy it."
SO we exchanged cards, shook hands,
and became the best friends in the world.
was burning with impatence to see Ger
trude, and tell her all my good fortune; but
my new patron took my arm, and said that
he must make the tour of the rooms in my
company so was forced to comply.
We stopped before large painting that
occupied the next best situation to mine
it was my masters work, the Conversion OF
ST Paul While was telling him of my
studies in the atelier of the painter, a man
started from before us, and glided away
but not before | had recognized the pale
countenance of Van Roos. There was
something in the expression of his face that
shocked me-something that stopped my
breath, and made me shuddcr. What was
1t? | scarcely knew but the glare Of his
dark eyes and the quivering passion of his
lip haunted me for the rest Of the day, and
came back again in my dreams. | said
nothing Of it to Gertrude that afternoon,
but it had efiectually sobercd my eXulta
IIOi. NANeNN'N'J NAV N''g " tSe"Iii ~ 1liI
studio; but to my surprise, my master re-
ceived me as he had never received me be-
fore He advanced, and extended his hand
to me.
Welcome Franz Linden" he said smi-
ing. al am proud to call you my pupil"
The hand was cold, the voice was harsh,
the smile was passonless My compan-
ions crowded round, and congratulated me;
and in the warm tones of their young, cheer
full voices, and the close pressure Of their
friendly hand, forgot all that had troubled
me in the manner of Van Roos.
Not long after this event, Gertndes ia
ther desired to have her portrait painted, to
console him for her absence, he said, when
| should be so wicked as to take her away
from him. ! recommended my old master,
whose tutelage l had recently left and
Van Roos was summoned to fulfill a task
that would gladly have performed had it
been in my power to do 50. But portrait
ure was not my line could paint sleek,
spotted mich COW, or a drove of sheep, far
better than the fair skin and golden curls
of my darling Gertrude.
She could not endure the artist from the
first In vain | reasoned with her all was
of no use and she used to say, at the end
6 ,,ob, cbn bod