Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1879-03-13

waking yet.
Therefore give me kisses; first thousand
then hundred,
Then another thousand, and hundred
more;
Then again-again again. 1t were we'll our
reckoning blundered;
None must tell the tale OF kisses that Loves
prodigals can pour.
-MacmAlan's Magazine
AsT0RY OF MURlLLO's PUPIL.
Many years ago, on beautiful sum-
mer morning, several young men. who
emerged from the different streets press
ed their way towards the house OF the
celebrated painter, Murillo. They all
arrived at the door at the same moment,
exchanged salutations in cordial man.
ner, and called each other by name. They
hurried up the fight of stairs and reach
ed the studio. The maestro had not vet
entered, and each artist approached his
easel to see if the colors were we'll dried.
"Bv the holy st. James of Compostellar ~
exclaimed 1sturez, switch of you remain
ed last in the studio yesterday9"
"You have not yet recovered from the
effects of your morning nsp,' replied at
the same time Fernandez and Cardova,
"or you would surely recollect that we
all went home together"
''There is a point beyond which for
besrance ceases to be virtue" continued
Isturez, evidently in bad humor. "Yes-
terday, before leaving the studio, con-
sumed an hour at least in cleaning very
carefully my palette and brushes, and
this morning find them dripping with
paint"
"See therel look u cried Carlos; there
Is another little face just in the corner of
my picture, and it's by nc means a bad
one, either. Carajo! who can it be that
thus amuses himself every morning with
painting figure first upon the wall and
then upon the canvass"
yesterday, Fernandez, there was one
just above your easel"
ut must be Isturez his palette is proof
positive against him p said Fernandez.
mo bJ the holy madre, it was not II"
replied Isturez.
100 not swear" said Carlos, "such a
face you never could have painted
"Be that as it may, Don Carlos, have
never yet painted any quite so Indifferent
as yours"
''And my brushes, too, are moist!'' ex-
claimed Gonzalez. by the patron saint
of Spain, something mysterious goes on
here at night"
"Do you not think, with the creole
Gomez, that it is the Zombi who pays
these nocturnal visits to our studio?"
asked Isturez.
'Certainly believe it, returned Men
DEE, who had thus long remained silent
while examining attentively one of those
beautiful sketches which peeped forth,
in greater or lesser numbers, everv morn
ing from their canvas, as though called
into existance by the magic wand of
some supernatural visitant. II wish in
my Decent from the Cross he had had
the kindness to have sketched the head
of the Holy Virgin; my conception may
be ever so pure and chaste, but my pencil
obstinately refuses to obey the impulses
of my imagination"
At these words Mendez approached his
easel. An exclamation of establishment
burst from his lips, and he stood petri-
fed at the spectical presented to his view.
A beautiful Madonna's head, merely
sketched, but of wonderful expression,
stood out clear from the canvas, graceful
and pleasing, amid the other figures Of
the picture, like an unearth]y appara-
ton.
'How now9 What's the matter with
ysus" demanded stern, gruf voice.
which reused the youth from his medita-
tions, who bowed respectfully before the
speaker.
Examine yourself, Senior Murillop
answered ] all the young men simulta.
neously, pointing to the easel of Mendez
"Wbose work is this? Who painted
that head9' asked Murillo, with eagerness
"Why do you not answer2 Whoever
sketcned that Madonna will one day u
other be the master of US all. Does nc
one sreakl I should be proud to &C.
knowled &c it as the production of my
pencil. By the soul of my body, wha
tendernessl what sweetness! what deli
cacy l-Mendez, my dear pupil is il
yours3'
mo, maestro" replied Mendez, evi
IDENTIFY grieved.
"Was it you, Isturez9 or you Fernan
dez? or you Cordova?
mo, maestro" replied they simultan
eously. "But," said Murillo, impatiently
lit could not have made its appearance
here OF itself. Some one must have dom
it."
"This is not the first nor only myster
ious and inexplicable affair which ha
TRANSCRIBED in your studio" replied Cor
dova, the youngest of the pupils. "Be
heve me, maestro, this place abounds il
spirits, who regularly assemble here ever!
night and play off their pranks till tn
dawn of day"
II am by no means so superstitious q!
Cordova," said Fernandez; ''but true it i,
that events occur within these walls tina
surpass, belief"
Ana what are they2" demanded
Murillo, sternly, whose gaze was still
riveted On the head of the beautiful Ma
ma.
In obedience to your orders, senior, W,
never leave the studio without putting
everything in the most perfect order
cleaning our palettes, washing our brush
es and arranging our easels; but ever,
morning we find all things in the great
est confusion, our palettes loaded will
pdluG, duu vi 6ll SAucS Wo OouO1O TIT
most exquisite sketches, and are astonish
ed at their incompatible beauty. In on,
place the head of an angel, in another
that of demon, or the profile of love
~ woman, or the head of an old man
but all wonderfully beautiful and ad-
mirable in their composition, setting imi
tation at defiance. We rejoice that thi
day you have had an opportunity of wit
Messing these remarkable phenomen.
yourself; and if the individual who thu.
amuses himself here in the dead hour Of
the night be not yourself, Senior, then
agree with Cordova that it is is beyonG
all doubt the devil"
II would to heaven it were! Willing
ly would I avow myself the delinator O.
these refined and delicate features, O
that bold and majestic outlined There ar
doubtless in the picture some few varia
lions from the rules of art: but thos,
few are lost amid its transcendent beau
n ~