Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1870-11-24
A Freak of Fortune.

Du''i' duL1liteu mo the ART SChO(
out OF charity. He was emplo,
ed IN painting signs and the eoa,s
tapestry then used in German,
As he was about forty years ol
age, small, ugly and hump backed
he was the butt of i'll jokes anon,
MS fellow pupils, and selected N
special object of dislike hy Mad
ame Durer, who tormented tn
scholars and domestirs, as well a
the master, by her X4ntippica
temper. Poor Duhobret had no
a piece of malice in his heart, ant
not only bore all his trials Will
patience, bat eating without com
plant the scanty crusts given hin
Tor dinner, while his companion.
Jared better, always showed him
"'if ready TO assist and serve those
who. scoffed at him. His In Iustry
was interchangeable. He came Il
his studies each morning at day.
break, and worked till sunset.
During three years lie plodded
'hus, and said nothing of the
paintings he had produced in. his
lonely chamber by the light of
MS lamp. His bodily energies
wasted unGer incessant toll. No
one cared enough for him to no.
ice the leverish color in his wrin
kled cheek, or the increasing mea.
sreness of his misshapen frame.
No one observed that the poor
plttance set aside for his midday
meal remained untouched for sew
eral days. The poor artist made
his appearance as usual, and as
meekly bore the gibes Of the stu
dents or the taunts of the lady /;
working with the same untiring
hssiduiiy, though his hands trem-
bed, and his eyes were often suf.
fused with tears.
0ne H'orning he was missing
from the scene OF his labors, and,
though jokes were passed about
MS disappearance, no one thought
of going to his lodgings to see if
h were i'll or dead. He was in
deed prostrated by the low fever
that had been lurking in his veins
md slowly sapping his strength.
He Was half deiili0us and uttered
wild and incoherent words, fancy
ing his bed surrounded by mock
ing demons, taunting him with
his inability TO call a priest to ad-
minister the words of comfort that
might sooth his passnge to another
world.
From exhausted slumbers he
awoke faint and with parched lips;
II was the filth day lie had lain
in his cell neglected. Feebly he
sire cbed out his hands towards
the earthen pitcher, and found
that it contained not a drop of
water. Slowly and with difficult
ty he arose, for he knew that he
must procure sustenance or die
'i want. He had not a rkruetzer.
lie went TO The other end of the
room, took up-the picture he had
painted last, and resolved to car.
ry il to a dealer, who might give
him enough for it to furnish his
necessaries for a week longer.
On his way he passed a house be-
lore which there was great crowd.
There was to be a sale, he learned,
of many specimens of art collect.
ed for thirty years by an amateur.
The wearied Duhobret thought he
might here find market for his
picture. lie worked his way
through the crowd, dragged him
self up the steps, and found the
auctioneer, busy little man, hold
ing handful of papers, and in-
cllned to be rough with the lean,
sallow hunchback, who SO eagerly
implored his attention.
"What do you call your pictured"
be asked.
at is a view of the Abbey of
Newburgh, with the village and
landscape" replied the trembling
artist.
The auctioneer looked at him.
Iiummed coutemptuously, and ask.
ed It's plice,
."Whateyer you please; what
ever it will bring" was the anX'
ious reply. ''
"IIen with an unfavorable
criticism II can promise you No
more than three ihalers." ]
Poor Duhpbret had spent the
hi2hts OF many months on tha.
pi, ce. Bnt he was starving. ana
the pittance offered would bu,
him bread. lie ne died to ih,
auction eer and retired TO corner