Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1870-05-13

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such fool as to form any attachmer
without"
"Oh, sir, you do me injusticel" l erie,
Indeed, have done nothing of the kin,
But do you think-do you think that sh
would have me ?" az
Try her, Franz" said my father, goo
humorcdly, as he resumed-my arm. aIf
am not very much mistaken, the burgC
meister would be as well pleased as my
self. AS for the fraulein-women ar
easily won"
We had by this time reached the doc
of the inn where my father was to slee
for the night. AS he left me his word
were:
"Try her, Franz try her."
"From this hour was a constant visit
or at the house OF the Burgomeister voI
Gael. 1t was large, old fashioned mar
sion, built of red brick, and situated upoI
the famous line of houses known as tn
Boompjes.
In front lay the broad river, crowde
with merchant vessels, from whose mast
huttered the flags of all the trading nation
OF the world. Tall trees, thick with foil
age, lined the quays, and the sunligh
hlckered through the leaves upon the spa
clons drawing-room of Gertrude's home
Here, night after night, when the stud
les OF the day were over, used to sit will
her beside the open window, watchinl
the busy crowd beneath, the rippling riy
er, and the rising moon that tipped tht
masts and city spires with silver. Here
we read together from the pages of our ia
Vorlte poets, and counted the first pale
stars that trembled into light.
1t was a happy time. But there came
fimp hor
evening as we sat alone, conversing in
unfrequent whispers and listening TO the
beating of each others hearts, I told Ger
trude that loved her, and she, in answer
laid her fair head upon my shoulder, with
sweet confidence, as if content 80 to rest
forever. W. -o''
just as my father had predicted, the
Durgomeister readily sanctioned our be.
.rotnal' specifying but one condition, and
!nls was that our marriage should not
C.He place till had attained my twenty
/ fifth birth day. 1t was long time TO
wait, but l should by that time perhaps
have made name in my profession. l
intended soon to send picture to the an
nual exhibition, and who could tell what
| might not do in three years to show
Gertrude how dearly loved herr
And so our happy youth rolled on, and
the quaint old dial in Messer Won Gael's
tulip garden told the passage of our gold.
en- hours.
In the meantime worked sedulously at
my picture. l labored upon it all the
winter, and when the spring came sent
it in, with no small anxiety as to its prob
able position upon the walls of the gal
lery. 1t was a view in one of the streets of
Rotterdam.
There were the high old houses, with
their gables and carved doorways, and the
red sunset glittering on the panes of the up
per windows, the canal flowing through the
centre of the street, the white drawbridge,
with barge passing beneath, the green
trees deep in the shadow, and the spire of
the church of st. Lawrence rising beyond
in the clear sky. When it was quite fin
ished and about to be sent away, even
Hans Van Roos nodded cold encourage.
ment, and said that it deserved a good po-
sition. He had himself prepared paint
ing this year, on more ambitious scale
and larger canvas than usual
1t was sacred subject, and represented
the Conversion of st. Paul. His pupils
admired it warmly, and none more than
myself
We all pronounced it to be his master
piece, and the artist was evidently of our
opinion.
The day of exhibition came at last.
had scarcely slept the previous night, and
the early morning found me, with a num-
Der of other students, waiting impatient
ly before the yet unopened door. When
l arrived 1t 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 mar
row barriers.
l had flown up the staircase and found
myself in the first room, before / remem-
bered that should have purchased cat
alogue at the door. l had no patience,
however, to go back for it, so l strobe
round and round the room, looking eager
ly for my picture. It was nowhere to be
seen, and passed on to the next. Here
my search was equally unsuccessful
1t must be N the third room," said l
to myself, "where all the best works are
hung. Well, if 1t be hung ever SO high,
in ever so dark a corner, it is, at all events,
an honor to have picture in the third
room"
But though I spoke so bravely, it was
with sinking heart 1 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
a possibility that it might receive q ia
yorable position. III.
The house had formerly been the man.
sion OF a merchant of enormous wealth,
who had left it, with his valuable collec-
lion of paintings, to the State.
The third room had been his reception
chamber, and the space over the magnifi-
Gently carved chimney was assigned as the
place OF honor to the best painting The
painter of this picture always received
costly prize, for which he was likewise in
1ebted to the munifcence of the founder.
10 tals spot my eyes were naturally
.urned as / entered the door.
Was dreaming? stood still -Iturned
not and cold by turns. l ran forward. 1t
ny own picture in its modest little frame,
Installed in the chief place in the gal.
eryl
And there, too, was the official card
stuck in the corner, with the words,
: Prize Painting printed upon it In a
shining gold frame. / ran down the stairs
md bought a catalogue, that my eyes
night be gladdened by confirmation of
his JOY. And there sure enough was
printed at the commencement, Annual |
Prize Paintng-View in Rotterdam-No |
Linden"
could have wept for Joy. I was never
ired looking at my picture. / walked
rom one side TO the other, i retreated, II
.dvanced closer to it, / looked at it in |
very possible light, and forgot all but my
"a very charming picture" said a voice
It my elbow. /
1t was an elderly gentleman, with gold
pectacles and an umbrella.
cOlored up and said falterinely;
"Do you think so ?"
"I do, sir" said the old gentleman. al
I'm an amateur. am very fond of pic.
ures. | presume that you are also an ad- |
nirer of artY"
/ bowed. n
"Very nice little painting, indeed-very |
,ice," he continued, as he wiped his spec !
acles and adjusted them with an air of a |
,onnoisseur. "Waters very limpid, colors
'ure, sky transparent perspective admir-
Ible I'll buy It,"
"Will you," | exclaimed joyfully. 90,
hank you, sir"
"Oh," said the gentleman, turning sud
.lrrt -