The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-12-03

with a confidential smile, "Me clear
now; me go to America"
Pipe came to me shortly after and
with a graceful bow offered me q
cigarette fEOm a package in which he
had just invested. 1t was Saturday;
our weeks work was done; we had
squared accounts, and Pipe felt like a
millionaire.
1 l accepted and lighted it. "Look
here, young man, when you go to
America you'll have to give up the use
of the weed. In the land of the free,
and so forth, my friend, little boys of
eight are not expected to be quite as
far advanced in dissipation as old fell
lows of twenty"
Thus did | administer moral instruc-
ton in small doses to my untutored
savage.
Things began to look black in the lit
tie old house on the lagoon. Pipe and
| had been subsisting for some time on
shipwreck rations. Never a foot
crossed my humble threshold with
intent to order pictures. Robinson
Crusoe and Friday were not more en-
tirely alone on the island than were Pipe
and there in that water-bound cottage
with only our own bright dreams and
the prophetic glory Of sea and sky to
keep us from utter wretchedness. |
was up to the ears in debt with Pipe at
this time. But he understood my
position and did not dun me. He was
a dear good fellow, this Pipe of mine,
and would rather have gone cigarette
less to the end of his days than have
brought me face to face with insolvency
by asking for centimes.
a." l am poor, Pipo," [ said, at last,
openly and calmly; ''pOor as church
mouse or an artist"
"Pl tell you something, padrone
MIC, that will bring you good luck, ;"
answered Pipe, looking at me with his
great earnest eyes.
"What is it?"
You see, me want two cents-me
buy"
| collected the required amount with
some difficulty and cautioned Pi pc to be
careful how he laid it out.
He came back with a small cage in
his hand, containing three great black
crickets.
"They bring you good luck, padrone
Everybody in Venice keeps them in the
spring"
"Well, 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 fireplace
and see what turns up"
The crickets sang on bravely for
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 am
putated limbs lay about the floor of the |
cage in expressive confusion. The |
third had emigrated. Later [ found |
him half cremated behind the fire
place. "Pipo," I said mournfully, |
your crickets are a delusion and
snare"
One morning, not long after, | was
painting as usual, and Pipe was posing |
patiently before me. Suddenly there |
came a loud ring at the door. What |
could it be? Credftors-I had none and |
visitors never. The dogs began to
howl. 1 looked at myself 1 wore a
coat with fifty-two patches; told Pipe |
to keep his attitude. | put on bold
face, and, by way of encouragement,
composed as [ went to the door a new |
paragraph for my future biography in
the "Lives of Distinguished American
Artists" cit 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 hes
itate 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.
q have been told there was an art
list living here" he said, looking about
him. "Down, my dears, down, [ beg
of you"
Z" am the artist, or at least I try to
be one"
| thought his face looked familiar. I
then who he was. The
winter | was in Rome / heard a good
deal about him-a benevolent old fel-
low who hunted out poor artists and
helped them on. He had had a son
mad after art, and refused to let him
study. The boy ran away from home,
came to Europe, painted awhile, gave
hope of a brilliant career, and then fall
ing i'll died of sheer poverty and moth
ing else. And so the father did what
little he could to atone for his fault.
Oh, remembered him well. Iushered
him into the studio.
"That's very nice little boy" he
said, patting Pipo's shaver pate. "Does
he go to SCHOOL,"
HE does not. He revels in igno-
rance and smokes"
"Ah, l see you are painting his por-
trait-a young fisherman. Beautiful
thing Is it Ordered?"
| forced a paid smile. "Orders are
not plentiful in this establishment. [
am painting entirely for glory at pres
ent."
"Then would you allow me to secure
it for friend at home who is making
collection of native art? Could you