The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1884-05-30
TIE INVISIBLE PAINTER.

he
One fine spring morning, a great
many years ago, tiVe or six young men
were assembled in a large painting
room in one of the great Spanish cities,
while grave, dark-haired, rather sad
looking man, in rich dress of purple
velvet, was going from picture to pfct-
ure, and saying few words upon each,
to which his pupils listened very re-
spectfully--And well they might; for
this man was himself one of the great
est painters living, and his name was
Esteban (Stephen) Murillo.
But it was plain, that the pupils had
not been working as well as usual that
day; for Murillo had a great deal Of
fault finding to do. One student had
painted an arm wrong; another had
spoiled the effect of his sunset; third
had made bad fault in the shading of
his sky; and SO on, and so on, till at last
the master lost patience altogether, and
cried angrily:
Really, gentlemen, this is too bad!
You don't seem to remember anything
that tell you. If you can't do better
than this, that poor little monkey of a
Sebastian, Yonder, has as good chance
of becoming painter as any of your
The 'poor little monkey was
Moorish lad of fourteen, one Of Murillo's
servants, who had to sweep out the
painting room, grind the students col
ors for them, and do other jobs about
the house. His face flushed as he heard
his master speak so contemptuously of
him; but he said nothing, and the lect-
ure went on.
When the pupils came in the next
morning one or two of them noticed
that their pictures were not where they
had left them; and Manuel Suarez, d
little black-eyed fellow with pretty
hot temper of his own, found his brushes
all smeared with paint, and flew into a
passion at once.
.The Zombi'' Ca miscellaneous fairy of
the ':Robin Goodfellow'' sort, supposed
to play tricks at night) Unjust have been
at work hereH' shouted he, shaking his
fist; 81 cleaned these brushes myself
last night, and look at them now!"
''And he seems to have been at me,
to0,o cried another, "for here's a
child's head on my canvas, which is
none of my doingn'
'Well," yawned Jose Villavicemio,
the LATEST of the whole school, ''if it as
the Zbmbi wish he'd just put in the
face of my St. Catherine while he is
about it, for I'm sure I can't. T1ollo"
Well might he cry ''hollo!" There,
on his canvas, instead of the blurred,
unfinished head that he had left there
the night before, was face so beauti-
full, so admirably painted, and yet so
light and delicate, that the whole six
stared at it in silent astonishment
At that moment the door opened and
in came Murillo.
Ella, Villavicemio!" cried be, look
ing from the picture to his lazy pupil,
''this is better than l expected Of goal
'But it wasn't who did it, master
more's the pityr'
''Not you? Who was it, then?''
CHATS just what none Of US can tell,
Senior Don Esteban; we found it here
when we came"
"Hun1," said Murillo. "Well, we can
talk Of that again; let us go to work
now"
But, from that day forth, it really
seemed as if some mischievous fairy
had taken Murillo's studio for his play
ground. Half-completed pictures were
finished no one knew hoW-loose strips
of canvas were covered with admira-
BILE portraits Of the various pupils-and
one morning there appeared OH the wall
a capital likeness of Murillo, at which
the great master himself smiled APPROX
ingly. But all these paintings were SO
much better than anything which the
students themselves could do, that they
were completely puzzled.
However, Murillo was not the man to
let such pranks be played upon him for
nothing; and one evening he said to his
class:
'It's time to put a stop to these
tricks, gentlemen. Whoever this invis-
ible painter may be, he's man like
ourselves; and our best way is to come
an hour earlier tomorrow, and try if
we cam catch him at work.
And SO they did, sure enough for
when they came next morning, there,
seated before one Of the pictures, and
so intent upon his work that he did not
even hear the door open, was the poor
little monkey, Sebastian!'
1t would be hard to say which was
the more misunderstanding to find
himself caught, or Murillo and his pu-
pills to see who their "fairy" really was.
''Who taught you to paint, boy?"
asked Murillo at length.
"You, master,'' replied Sebastian,
ltimidly.
"Why, I never gave you lesson in
my lifel''
mo, master; but I listened to what
you told these gentlemen, and remem-
bered it."
Sand you've fairly beaten us alf!''
burst out Suarez, in his headlong way.
Bravo, Sebastian!''
.'Bravo, Sebastian!" echoed all the
rest.
''God bless thee, my boy" said Mu-
rillo, laying his hand tenderly on the
boys head. 81 have made something
far better than a picture this time-I
have made painter! Henceforth thou
shalt be called no more Sebastian Co
mez. but 'El Mucacho de Murillo' -
(Murillo's Boy.
And although Sebastian Gomez after
wards became a famous painter Gas
you may see by the pictures which he
has left behind him) he was known as
''Murillo's Bcy'' to the end of his lfe.-
Vide AsOdke.
Reward or POIIteness.