The Shasta courier., 1868-06-13
An Old Story.

Many years ago celebrated italian artist
was walking along the streets of his native
city, perpexed and desponding in conse.
quence of some irritating circumstance or
misfortune, when he beheld little boy of
such surprising and surprising beauty that
he forgot his own trouble and gloom in look
ing upon the almost angel face before him.
. That face | must have" said the artist,
g for my studio Will you come to my room
and sit for picture. my little man.?
The little boy was glad to 90 and see the
pictures, pencils and curious things in the
artists room; and was still more pleased
when he saw what seerled to be another boy
looking just like hi,sSeit smiling from tila
artists canvas.
The artist took great pleasure in looking
at that sweet face When he was irritated,
troubled. or perplexed, he lifted his eyes to
that lovely image on the wall, and its beau
tltul features and expression calmed his heart
and made him happy again. Many vis-
ltor to his studio wished to purchase that
lovely face but, though poor, and often
wanting money to buy food and clothes, he
would not sell his good angel, as be called
this portrait.
So the years went on. Oltentimes as he
looked up to that face on the glowing canvas,
he wondered what had become of that boy.
How | should like to see how he looks
now | wonder if should know him Is
he good man and true, or wicked and
abandoned? Or has he died and gone to
far better land p
One day the artist was strollng down one
of the fine walks of the city, when he bebeld
a man whose face and mein were SO vicious,
so depraved, so almost fend like, that he in
voluntarily stopped and gazed at him.i
w hat a spectacle | should like to
paint that figure, and hang it in my studio
opposite the angel boy" said the artist to
himself
The young man asked the painter for mon=
ey, for he was. beggar as well as thief.
Come to my room, and let me paint your
portrait, and | will give you all you ash"
said the artist
The young man followed the painter, and
sat for sketch. When it was finished, and
he received few coins for his trouble, he
turned to go; but his eye rested upon the
picture of the boy he looked at it, turned
pale, then burst into tears.
What troubles you. man ?" said the
painter. 1t was long before the young man
could speak. lie sobbed aloud, and seemed
pierced with agony.
AT last he pointed up to the picture on the
wall, and in broken tones, which seemed to
come from broken heart, he said
=" Twenty years ago you asked me to come
up here and sit for a picture, and the angel
face is that portrait. Behold me nova
ruined man so bloated, so hideous that
women and children turn away their faces
from me fend-ke that YOU want nv
picture to show how ugly man could look.
Ah, see now what vice and crime have done
for me"
The artist was amazed. He could not be-
lieve his own eyes and ears
. How did this happen ?'' he asked.
The young man told him his sad and dread
ful story how, being an only son, and very
beautiful, his parents petted and spoiled
bim how he went with bad boys and learned
all their bad habits and vices, and came to
love them; how, having plenty of money, he
was enticed to wicked places till all was lost;
and unable to work and ashamed to beg;
he began to steal, and was caught and i'm
prisoned with the worst criminals-came out
still more depraved to commit worse crimes
than before; how every bad deed be per-
formed seemed to drive him to commit
worse one, till it seemed to him he could not
stop till brought to the galows.
1t was a fearful tale, and brought tears
to the artists eyes. He besought the young
man to stop his career. and tried his best to
save him. But, alas ! it was too late.
Disease, contracted by dissipation, soon
prostrated the young man. and died before
he could reform. The painter hung his por-
trait opposite that of the beautiful boy and
when visitors asked him why he allowed
such hideous looking face to be there, he
told them the story, saying as he closed:
" Between the angel and the demon there
is only twenty years of vice."
The lesson of the tale is in the tale itself.
You who read it can tell what it is. Think
of 1T often and heed it always.