The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-05-03
VOLUME 26.]

| zine picture Is mourning 10 Lnee' lo ealu
hastily. Get thee gone Get thee down t.
Frau Martha l am busy to night
''But, father" s...
Get the down, say Go learn thy
tasks for tomorrow"
~ have done. The Herr president sign
ed my certificate to day and hesaid, If yor
wished to enter me for another term"
Another term, indeed!'' interrupted
Schoeffer ''who is pay for it Let the
Herr president tell me that. There is moi
poorer man in Wurtenburg than myself
''He said H aEuao1swg
sit is nothing to me what he said There
have been times when scarce knew where
to find food and clothing for thee
The lad glanced round the squalid room,
and sighed.
81 know it, father" he replied.
at is well you do know it" replied the
bookseller, sharply. 'You have to earn
your bread"
''That is what | came about, father. |
wish to be painter"
The Herr Schoeffer shook his head
IA painter ?" he said. Pooh! 1t is an
unhealthy trade. Besides have not a
groschen wherewith to apprentice thee
No boy-thou must follow thy fathers call
ing--a poor one, but at the worst, better
than neighbor Strauss's. s
"Neighbor Strauss! echoed the lad
7''Do you think | wish to be house painter,
like neighbor Strauss? No, mol mean to
be painter like our ancestor, Martin Schoef
fer"
. His father looked at him increduously.
''The boy is mad," he said, with con-
telnptuous shrug. -sfs
81 am not mad. l would live on bread
and water to be a painter. | would beg
my way to Rome Oh foot if you would only
let me 60"
''Rone What would you do in Rome,
pray, when you had begged your way
there ?"
b 81 would go to Overbeck's studio, and
tell him that l was poor German boy who
loved art, and wished to be painter"
The bookseller struck the table angrily
with his clenched fist.
''Let me hear no more of this" he said.
..'You talk like fool
"But. 49,
''SiIence Not another word. Get You
down stairs, and bid Frau Martha make the
soup hot for supper
The boy obeyed reluctantly. AS he
reached the door his father called him back.
e''Hark you Ernst" he said, more gently
This portrait is not to be talked about. t.
You must not tell any one that you have
seenit. Do you hear ?-not even Frau
Martha"
"Whose portrait is it, father p
The bookseller hesitated.
81 ''You must give your word not to speak
about it." he said, fixing searching eye
upon his sons face F.
Il will never speak of it, father"
"You promise p
Il promise. But whose portrait is it ?"
'Your-your mothers" &
a f'My mothers ~ b
The lad sprang forward would have ia
ken the picture in his hand, but that his ia
ther again put him back, and would not | ct
him touch it.
e ''You can see it we'll enough where it is y
he said, with a frown. +
ooh father was my mother so beautiful?
Were her eyes SO very sad, always ?" And
the boys own eyes filled with sudden tears
'She was very like it, replied the book
seller, gIoomily "There-you have looked
long enough" a
MAY | see it again tomorrow ?"
''No--not to-morow-some day,perhaps.
Now go-and remember your PROMISE
Il will remember it, and keep it," said
Ernst, and left the room.
He made his way slowly down the dark
stairs, thinking over all that had been said
''My mothers portrait!" he muttered to|
himself ITO think that he had my moth
er's portrait hidden away all these years y
When he. had reached the bottom step,
he sat down, covered his face with his
hands, and fell into a long reverie. His
heart was heavy, and the future seemed to
lie before him all dark and uncertain. like
a scene in dream. Q
At length he sprang to his feet, resolved
and self-reliant once more
Il will be a painter p he exclaimed, half
aloud. 81 will be painter and will
paint as wellas that, too; some day"
~ H..