The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1875-03-25

and form made . fresh music, anc
there was breathing in it a divine as
surance for which my Interpretation
could find no words.
Then IL struck me that the Zest and
clear sight OF my cOnyalescence must
be taken to the permanent, TO the
eternal youth of the artist. He was
always convalescent.
But If Funcher had this aptitude he
also had the gift of expression. Had
he chosen to portray the most obvious
and commonplace manifestations ot
nature, the world would have recOg-
nized his gift. The trouble with him
was that he was endeavOring to inter
pref little more than the common
eye could detect or understand. The
possible and ideal we're forever booking
through the actual, and communing
with him.
And so he worked on, regardless OF
his feIlow-beings, fed by the archaic
joy of his work-singing like another
Beranger as he poured his heart out
in mystic utterances Of color, in his
cold and fOrsaken studio.
think his cup of happiness would
have run over if there had been no.
body to buy pictures. The only real
biting misery of his life was the nee
essity which his art imposed, and per-
haps the difficulty which his method
presented, of parting with his work
for money
remember they hung his first pic
ture in the corridor at the Academy,
between a barn-yard Photograph and
a monochrome Venus. The crowds
swept past It disdsinfully 1t ELECTED
every form of pitiful contempt from
the idlers. But now and then it fas-
tened on the memory of q visitor and
haunted him afterward.
Here and there were men and wO-
men who looked at it as if they had
seen a ghost, and like all unfortunate
people who have seen ghosts, were
laughed at, by ali those who had not.
1t went back to his studio, and
stood there in the glory of its gold
frame, surrounded by all its premO-
nitiOns of study, a fixed revelation
for Funcher. He had cut the press
notices out and pasted them in strip
beside it, because, he said, they were
accurate reflections of public opinion.
The authOritive condemnations new
er moved him. He talked and acted
like q man vino was the depository of
a secret that the world had not dis
covered. 1t was not secret of tech
nique, no mere method of work, but
the wind had whispered to
him outdoors, and he wondered on,
unfalteringly, why other people could
not hear it.
A great many of us were in the hab-
it of dropping in there for the sake of
hearing him talk. There was an eX-
ultant guilelessness about him-a de-
fiant simplicity and bouyancy that
was like eternal youth ; and it re-
freshed one like the morning air.
Nothing could distinguish the peren-
nial gsyety of his heart. L believe we
all felt that ia spite of his poverty,
his erochets and his social limitations
he had access to some of natures pri-
elixirs that were denied to
The rest of US. 1t was a great luxury
20 get hold of him and try to pull him
ly main force down to our cOnven-
,ionaI gravel walk; but he always
brought the air and liberty of the
with him. Van DOren
would come in there with his palette
IN his thumb and thunder the law
md the prophets at him like sew
.nth-day Baptist, and then go out
md slam the door because his own
zeal of apostasy weUld not keep him
without fire. Brieher made bet that
le could initiate him so that nobody
,ould tell which was the original.
But little girl only six years old
made all further arguments absurd by
the first and final judg-
nent on the imitation.
She said the picture looked like the
hadow of the other.
L suppose that Academy picture
hung there year. 1t got to be as IA
niIiar to us as the pinched fellow
himself in his dabbled velveteen jack |
t and absurd Chinese slippers. SOM |
rville managed now and then to |
york off a color and study at an auc-
ion, and that kept him in tobacco !
nd tube-colors. He had painted a |
lever imitation of wood fire upon a |
,iece of canvass, and that, fitted into 1
he CRATE, did illusoTy service like
Colonel Sellers candle. The door of !
lis studio was generally Kept locked,
md was never opened but in obedi- |
nee to two soft raps, followed by a
oud one. Thus it was that he kept
'ut the customary and curious visitors
Who go through the studios when 9TH
r means of enjoyment fail. But it
pIang promptly open for those of rs
Who knew him. A little wire affixed
o the bolt ran along the wall and
lown to his easel, and he invariably
,ulled it without getting off his three
egged stool.
1t was only month ago that Scott
md I, after eating hearty dinner at
and, if am not mistak-
N, drinking a bottle of Burgundy,
vent chattering loudly and loosely up
he dark studio stairs and gave the
iignal. 1 distinctly remember what
IN Internally raw and acrid day it
warmed us as We went down Four
,eentE street.
There was Funcher on his stool.
He shouted to US to come in. l recall
now with pang the greedy look he
ysve us, as if our unwOnted hilarity
would soften the chill of his atmOs-
lhere, and I confess with blush
hat we ratified on about our dinner,
once noticing the piece of
,rumbled soda-biscuit lying there
With his few tube-colOrs and tobacco,
Or knowing that it was breakfast and
Inner to him. What, indeed, can
,wo voracious rascals full of Burgun-
iy notice? Not even the blue fingers
working on heroically in the cold
40, nor the extra strain Of gayety in
The thin starved face.
ga curious thing" said he. 'Listen;
we got to change my signal. s ONE.
body has betrayed me. Aweek ago
-Gp, rap, RAP! Come I beloved,
md in saiIs-well, what do you
,hink? III.
"Perfdy and poverty the land
ord vi cried Scott.
"Pusillanimity and pain ~ 1 added,
ga critic %
"Worse," said Funcher, breathing
IN his palette to warm his color. "a
)uyer J"
"Infamous !" sang out Scott.
Unprecedented impudence," 1
IhoIted "you threw him out of the
window of course ~
mo" said Funcher, az couldn't
throw him out, because it was she.n
''She ?'' we both calculated with
excellent horror. "She-e-e? ?"
"Yes, sad as it may appear, she stood
here in black velvet and furs with a
ligger behind her, when I pulled the
atch. Betrayed, by jingo, said,' as 1
,aw the door filled up with this spec
.acle and then remembering that
was due to the customs of
ife, I begged her pardon and asked
1er to come in. OF course I upset my
Dils and trod on my tube of ultrama-
rine and dropped my pipe on newly
aid palette before could get the three
legged stool out for her and the nlg-
ger snickered a little, which only made
me mad, and she took in everything
seridtiHl, as if she wanted to get Rich
ards to make copy of it: Then she
spread herself in front of the picture
there, and sat looking at it as mum as
4 monolith for fifteen minutes"
CWho was she rs.t
Who was she ?
"I've got her card, hold on"