Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1870-10-27
A FREAK OF FORTUNE.

A FREAK OF FORTUNE.
Samuel Duhobret was disciple OF the
famous cngraver, Albert Durer, admitted
into the Art School out Of charity. de
was employed In painting signs and the
coarse tapestry then used in Germany.
AS he was about 40 years of age, small,
upiv. and humpbacked, he was the butt
of iii Jokes among his feliow-pupils and
selected as q special object OF clsilke BY
Madame Durer, who tormented the schoi'
ara and domestics, as well as the master,
by her Xantlppical temper. Poor Duno-
bert had not spice OF malice in his heart
and not only bore all bis trials with pa
tience. eating without complaint the
scanty crusts given him for dinner, while
his COMPANIONS Jared better, but always
showed himself ready to assist and serve
those who ecoffed at him. His industry
was indefatigable. He came toh studies
every morning by daybreak, and worked
till sunset. Duling three years he plod.
ded thus. and said nothiog of the paint
inqs he had produced in his lonely cham
her by the light of his lamp. His bodily
energies wasted under ince ssant toll. No
one cared enough for him to notice the
feyerish color in his wrinkled cheek, or
the incress ing meagrens s. OF his misshapen
frame. No one observed that The poor
pittauce set aside for his midday meal re
NAMED untouched for several days The
poor artist made his appearance as usual,
and as met ky bore the glbes OF the stu.
dents or the taunts Of the lady; working
with the same untiring ass duty, though
his hands trembled and his eyes were
often suffused with tears.
One morning he was missing from the
scene of his labors, and, though JOKES
were passing about his disappearance, no
one thought of going Tn his lodgings TO
see If he were i'll or dead. He was indeed
prostrated by the low fever that had been
lurking in his veins and slowly sapping
his strength. He was half dslirious and
muttered wild and incoherent words,
fancvinp his bed surrounded by hooking
demons, taunting him with bis inability
to call a priest to administer the words OF
comfort that might smooth his passage 70
another world.
From exhausted slumbers he awoke
faint and with p.rchtd lips; 1t was the
fifth day he had laid in his cell neglected.
Feebly he strel ched out his hands toward
the earthen pitcher, and found that II con.
tanned not q drop of water. Slowly and
with difficulty he arose; Tor he knew that he
must procure sustenance or die OF want.
He had not kreutzer. He went to the
other end of the room, took up the pic
ture he had painted last, and resolved to
carry it to dealer, who might give him
for Il enough to furnish him neccssaries
for q week longer.
On his way he passed q house before
which there was a great crowd. There was
TO be sale, he learned, of many specimens
of art collecttd during thirty years by an
amateur The wearied Dunobre thought
he might here find market for his pic
ture, He worked his way through the
crowd, draggtd himself up the steps, and
found the auctioneer, busy little man.
holding handful Of papers and inclined
TO be rough with the lean, sallow hunch-
back who so eagerly implored his atten-
ton.
"What do You call your picture ?" he
ats view Of the Abbey of Newbourg,
with the village and landscape" replied
the trembling artist.
The auctioneer looked at him, hummed
contemptuously, and asked its price. :.
Whatever you please wha,everit Will
bring" was the anxious reply.
"Hem with an unfavorable criticism
-"I can promise you no more than three
thalers.o
Poor Duhobret had spent the nights of
many months on that piecs But ne was
starving, and the pittancs offered would
buy him bread. He nodded TO the Ruc.
tioneer, and retired to a corner.
After many pa ntings and engr6vings
had been sold, Duhobret's was exhibited:
"Who bidsY Three thalers! Who bids :"
was the cry. The poor artist held his
breath no response WAS heard. Suppose
it should not fad purchaser he cared
not look up; he thought every body was
laughing at the fIlly II Offering so worth.
less piece at pubic sale ait Is certainly
my best work p he murmured piteously
to himself. He ventured to glance ct the
picture as the src ioneer held IL In favor
able light. There was certainly beauti-
full freshness in the RIGA foliage, trans
parepcy in the water, freedom and life
in the animass! The steeple, the trees,
the whole land. cape showed the genius OF
an artist. Ala.l he fel. the last throb OF
an artist's vanity. The dead silence con-
tinued, and, tur0ing away, he buried his
face in his hande.
"Twenty.ope thalersp . faint voice
called out. TIE upefed painter gave .
start Of joy and Looked 70 see who had
uttered these les ed words 1t WIS the
picture-dea.er 70 whom he first meant 70
60.
aFiEty thalersl" cried the sonorous
voice of the tall man in black.
There was a nome it's silence. "One
hundred thslersr at length cried the
picture dealer, evidently piqued and
anxious.
"Two hundredr'
Three hundTed!'
-Four hundfsdf'
"One thousAnd thale1!'
Another profound ti.ence; and the
crowd prssaed around the two opponents,