Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1875-11-12


end of his days than have brought me
face to face with insolvency by asking
for centimes.
sI am poor, Pipo,'' I said, at last,
openly and calmly, spoor as q church
mouse or an artist."
"I'll tell you something, padrone
milo, that will bring you good luck"
Pipo, looking at me with his
great earnest eyes.
"What is it ?"
"You see, me want two cents-me1
buy"
Icollected the required amount with
some difficulty and cautioned Pipo to
be careful how he laid it out.
He came back with small cage in
his hand, containing three great black
"They bring you good luck, padrone.
Everybody in Venice keeps them in
the spring."
"Well, I haven't much faith in them
myself, not being child of the South,
sunken in superstition and slavery,
but we will hang them over the fire.
place and see what turns up"
The crickets sang on brayely for q
week and did their best to bring me
good fortune, / have no doubt, poor
beasts. One morning took down
the cage, and behold there were only
two legless torsos of crickets. Their
limbs lay about the floor
of the cage in expressive confusion.
The third had emigrated. Later |
found him half cremated behind the
fireplace. "Pipo," 1 said mournfully,
"your crickets are a delusion and a
snare"
One morning, not long after, l was
painting as usual, and Pipo was posing
patiently before me. Suddenly there
came loud ring at the door. What
could it be? Creditors 1 had none
and visitors never. The dogs began
to howl. looked at myself I wore
a coat with fifty-two patches; told
Pipo to keep his attitude. put on q
bold face, and, by way of encourage
ment, composed as / went to the door
a new paragraph for my future bio
graphy in the olives of Distinguished
American Artists" ''It is related of
him that even at this early stage of
his career he had such confidence in
the might and power of his genius
that he did not hesitate to answer his
own door-bell in a ragged coat"
A white-haired gentleman stepped
into the hall. The dogs swarmed
over him at once.
81 have been told there was an ar
tist living here" he said, looking a.
bout him. "Down, my dears, down,
l beg of you."
81 am the artist, or at least try to
be one" I thought his face looked
familiar. | remembered then who he
was. The winter | was in Rome l
heard a good deal about him-a bene-
VIOLENT old fellow who hunted out poor
artists and helped them on. He had
had son mad after art, and refused
to let him study. The boy ran away
from home, came to Europe, painted
awhile, gave hope of brilliant career,
and then falling i'll died of sheer
poverty and nothing else. And so the
father did what little he could to
atone for his fault. Oh, l remember
ed him well. | ushered him into the
studio.
THAT'S very nice little boy" he
said, patting Pipo's shaven pate.
"Does he go to schools"
"He does not. He revels in ignor-
ance and smokes"
"Ah, Psee you are painting his por-
trait-a young fisherman. Beautiful
thing! Is it ordered!"
forced pallid smile. "Op1ers are
not plentiful in this establishment.
| am painting entirely for glory at
present"
"Then would you allow me to secure
it for friend at home who is making
a collection of native art? Could you
finish it by the end of the month
And | know that artists must have
brushes and colors. l should like to
leave an instalment, if you will permit
me-" He laid a purse on the table.
"Never mind thanks; I had son
once myself. Come up and see me at
the hotel"
With his dear old face all aglow
with kindness he started for the door.
He waved me good-by with his um-
brella. "Come up and see me and
and We'll talk it all over"
"Come to my arms, 0 most blessed
of Pipos. It's all through you and
your crickets!"
Who says that ravens no longer
minister to the needs of hungry pro-
phets! Who says that angels walk
not abroad in human guise?
The dogs barked for delight, and
Pipo and / danced a jig for Joy.
From that day onward life prosper
ed amain. Friends gathered about,
my orders assaulted me on every side,
and l exchanged the picturesque
poverty of the house on the lagoon for
the sumptuous hall of a palace on the
Grand Canal. Pipo stayed with me
until l left Venice. He pleaded hard
to be taken to America, but | felt that
there he would be misunderstood. His
innocent fondness for the weed would
be labelled "Juvenile depravity;" his
portic raggedness would be accounted
squalor.
So left him in that beautiful city,
where the marble domes rise from the
water like great white lilies, and the
boats dance over the sea like scarlet
winged birds. There where life is all
one golden afternoon. left my Pipo.
We had borne Joy and sorrow together
and the parting was hard. And
wherever | 60 carry about with me
the memory of two innocent child-eyes
which finds its way continually on to
my canvas. And when / hear the
IL q