The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1878-10-10

heau OF the HOLY virgin my conception
may be ever so pure and chaste, but nv
pencil obstinately refuses to obey the
impulses OF my imagination"
AT these words Mendez approached
his easel An exclamation OF astonish-
ment burst from his lips, and he stood
petritied at the spectacle presented to
his view. A beautiful Madonna's head,
merely sketched, but of wonderful ex.
preston, stood out clear from the can
vas, graceful and pleasing, amid the
other figures of the picture, like an un-
earthly apparation.
How now? What's the matter with
you" demanded a stern, gruff voice,
which reused the youth from his med.
itations, who bowed respectfully before
the speaker.
Examine yourself, Senior MurillOW
answered all the young mtn simultan-
eously, pointing to the easel of Mendez.
Whose work is thisY Who painted
that head p? asked Murillo, with eager
ness. "Why do you not answer? Who
ever sketched that Madonna will one
day or other be the master of US all.
Does no one speak? should be proud
to acknowledge it as the production of
my pencil By the soul of my body,
what tenderness what sweetness what
dclicacy cy!-Mendez, my dear pupil is it
yoursW
No, maestro" replied Mendez, evil
IDENTIFY grieved.
Was it you, lsturez? or you Fernan-
dez? or you Cordova?
Ne, maestro" replied they stimuli.
taneously.
But" said Murillo, impatiently,
it could not have made its appear.
ance here of itself. Some one must have
done it,"
This is not the first nor only myster-
ious and inexplicable affair which has
transpired in your studio" replied Cor
dova, the youngest of the pupils. " Be-
leve me, maestro, this place abounds in
spirits, who regularly assemble here
every night and play off their pranks
till the dawn of day"
" am by no means so superstitious
as Cordova," said Fernandez; /" but
lIut IL lS tldU tFtutS OCCuT WItllu lDtSt
walls that surpass belief"
Aud what are they" demanded
Murillo, sternly, whose gaze was still
riveted on the head of the beautiful Ma
donna.
d" In obedience to your orders, senior,
VIC never leave the studio without put
ting everything in the most perfect
order, cleaning our palettes, washing
our brushes and arranging our easels !;
but every morning we find all things in
the greatest confusion, our palettes
loaded with paint, and on all sides we
behold the most exquisite sketches, and
are astonished at their Incompatible
beauty. In one place the head of an
angel, in another that of demon, or the
profile of lovely woman, or the head
of an old man; but all wonderfully
beautiful and admirable in their COM
position, setting imitation at defiance.
We rejoice that this day you have had
an opportunity of witnessing these re-
markable phenomena yourself; and if
the individual who thus amuses himself
here in the dead hour of the night be
not yourself, Senor, then agree with
Cordova that it is beyond all doubt the
devil"
would to heaven it we're! Will
ingly would I avow myself the define
ator Of these refined and delicate feat
ures, of that bold and ma jestic outline
There are doubtless in the picture some
few variations from the rules of art; but
those few are lost amid its transcendent
beauties. Sebastian! SebastianW he
cried, interrupting himself, :" we will
soon find out the mysterious artist. Sc
bastianw he continued, addressing him
self to little creole about fourteen years
of age, who hurried at the call of his
master, have | not ordered you to
sleep in this place every nightW
" Yes, senor," replied the timid and
terrified boy.
"Well, and do you sleep here?'
I" Yes, senOr."
"Well, then, speak! Who was it that
either last night or this morning en-
tered this room before the arrival of
these gentlemen? Speak, or Pll soon
find means to compel you" exclaimed
Murllo to the boy, who continued re
volving his feathered cap upon his
thumb without replying; unravel the
mystery"
" Nobody, senior, that | know Of"
replied Sebastian, tremblingly.
"SlaveW
"NO one but myself has entered this
apartment, upon my word, senOr," re-
pcated Sebastian, kneelins and raising
his hands imploringly to his master.
" Sebastian" replied Murillo firmly,
listen to me. am determined to find
out who painted this Madonna's mead,
and the others which these young gen.
tlemen have observed there for several
mornings past. This night you shall
keep watch, instead of sleeping; and to-
morrow, if you have not detected the
guilty individual, you shall receive
twenty-five lashes. Dost thou hear?
Go and grind your colors, and you, gen.
tlemen, 60 to your work."
The young men applied themselves
with enthusiasm to their occupation,
but no sooner had Murillo left the
studio than the mysterious artist again
became the subject of conversation.
Mendez spoke first.
"Look out for scourging tomorrow,
boy, il you do not detect the intruder
to night. Give me some yellow"
"You do not need any, senior Mendcz.
There is already too much yellow on
your picture. As to the intruder, it's
my opinion it's Zombi."
"Cease your stupidity about Zombi,"
said Gonzalez, impstiently
You may believe in the Zombi or
not, Senior Gonzales, but that does not
disprove his existence, nor that he is
sometimes good spirit and sometimes
n malicious one for it was he, undOubt-
ediy, who so pulled the arm of your
John in the Wilderness out of shape;
forn continued Sebastian. iperingly.