Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-06-20

lle placeu Ihe TeJecleu picture once
more on the easel, and regarded it long
and critically, only to become more
convinced of its merit. lie knew that
art judges would pronounce it chef
dguvre. His amusement began TO
give place to irritation at the indignty
to which his work had been subjected,
and vague projects of vengeance rose
before him as he paced the floor, with
bent head and knitted brows.
Suddenly he stopped short, his eyes
sparkling with mischieyous satisfaction
at an idea which had suddenly occurred
to him. He took up his palette, and
set to work upon the picture again,
adroitly altering and retouching.
In an incredibly short space of time
it underwent startling metamorpho'
sis. While carefully preserving the
likeness, he had altered the face by ex-
aggerating its characteristics; giving a
cunning leer to the deeply-set eyes,
grimmer curve to the thin lips, and a
ScOwl to the heavy brows. a stubby
beard appeared on the chin, and the
attitude became dropping and decrept.
Then the notary's accessories vanish
ed, the background becoming the wall
Of a CELL with barred window; while
the table, with its litter of parchments,
was Transformed into rough ben 'h
beneath which might he discerned a
pitcher and loaf.
When this was achieved to his sat
isHantion, the artist signed his work,
and gummed on the frame cOnspiru-
ous label, with the inscription, "lmpriS-
oned for Debt"
Then he sent for a iiacre and drove to
Melchior's, the well-known picture
dealer in the Rue de la Madeline,
whose window offers such constant at
traction to lovers of art.
Il have something to show you,"
began Wiertz. 81 have Just finished
this study, which think is fairly SUE
ceSsful. Can you find room for it in
your window"
Find room for it? l should think
sO." exclaimed the dealer, enthusiastic
ally. "My dear fellow, it is first rate.
| have seen nothing Of yours more
striking and original and chat is say
ing much. What price do you put
upon it"
Il have not yet decided" replied the
painter. Give it good place in the
window, and if purchaser pre- :ents
himself let me know"
The picture was immediately install
led in the place of honor, and soon at
tra"ted curious group. All day
| Melchior's window WAS surrounded
and next morning the papers noticed
the wonderful picture, and sent fresh
crowds to gaze at it.
Among the rest was friend of
Maitre van Spa:h, who could hardly
| believe his eyes on recognizing the
worthy notary in this questionable
shape" He fastened at once to inform
him Of the liberty which had been
taken with his person: an not long
aftprward the old lawyer burst into the
shop, startling Its proprietor, VINO at
once recognized the original of the
famous picture.
M. Melchoir,' began the intruder.
Il have been made the victim OF a
shameful practical joke, by one of your
clients. 1t is my portrait sir, that hangs
in your window; it is |, Sir-.i, Matre
van Spach-whO am held up to ridicule
| in that infamous daub--pillOried for all
the world to see as an imprisoned
bankrupt! If the thing is not removed
1 shall apply to the police"
At this threat the picture dealer
merely smiled.
81 must refer you to the artist, mon
sieur," he returned, coolly. The pic
ture belongs to him, and | cannot re-
move it without his permission"
TO Wiertz's house went Maitre van
Spach, in white heat of rage and in
dignation. On entering the studio, he
found the painter lOunging in an arm
chair, smoking his afternoon cigar.
"Ah, is it you, Maitre?" was his
bland greeting. 40 what fortunate
circumstance am l indebted for this
visit? Pray take seat. Do you
smoke? You will find those cigars
excellent"
MONSIEUR" interrupted the notary,
cutting short these cOurtesies with
scant ceremony, "let us come to the
point. There is at this moment in
Melchoir's window apicture-a carica-
ture-which makes me the laughing
stock of the town. l insist on its
being taken out at Once-at once do
YOU understand?"
Not quite" replied the other, i'm
purturbably. at is true there is a
picture of mine at Melchior's but really
don't see how it makes you ridiculous"
"You don't seep But that picture is
my portrait, sir-my portrait" cried
his visitor, rapping his cane upon the
floor.
"Your portraits" echoed the other
| with a look of surprise.