The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1885-02-07

as = the phantom" who lowered about
among the artists, eager TO photograph
their nlOtiUes or their pictures; stray
Englishman, and a few women, talkatiye,
dressy, and exceedingly French. One by
one returning artists would drop in, re-
ceived with laughter and plague about
their industry, and petitions to show their
work.
The pictures on the walls were familiar
to Shaun and st. Louis. How well they |
rememter that hunted stag bounding /
down the road, followed by sportsmen in /
| red and those sheep from the brush Of |
| Jaques, the celebrated animal painter |
and the peasants, old and young; the |
horses, dogs, landscapes Romeo and |
| Juliet, and the man in red, who had |
blown his horn in that same impossible
attitude from time immemorial. There
! was everything on those walls from the
sublime to the ridiculous-from a master
painting of a students head to cariea-
ture of the "Phantom.
After dinner we walked down the viii
1age street. The evening was warm and
pleasant and many people were, like our
selves, enjoying the air. The old black
smith sat out In front of his forge, smok-
ing quiet pipe, while his wife gossiped
volubly with a picturesque group of old
women. Young peasant girls demurely
knitted at their open windows, and bevy
| 4
chatted gaily with a'couple of artists over
their garden wall.
On our way back we saw bright lights
streaming from the dinlng-room win
, dows at Siron's and heard young voices
laughing and singing. We peeped in
and pleasant was the sight. A slim young
fellow in velvet coat and long shaggy
, hair was playing
"Voyes ce beau gareon Ia"
on the jingling piano, and several artists
we had seen at dinner joined merrily in
the chorus.
q What happy-go-lucky good hearted fell
: lows Frenchart-students are ! How
e ever poverty-stricken or deep in debt,
# they have always a song and laugh, as
: though no such thing as care existed in
e the world As a musician finds some
sweet chord in piano battered and jang-
: led out of tune, so does an artist find
J, pleasure in a life which to others would
o be insupportable.
l. Coming home we assembled in Mrs.
II Wycherly's rooms to draw each others
e silho uettes upon the wall, we had good
- deal of fun out of it, and many a laugh
It at each others expense. Mrs. Wycher-
- ly's small head and regular features made
o very pretty shadow and Shaun-whe
l. could mistake the Celtic profile, curly
" head and rakish 6eret. But st. Louis
IT poetical countenance was represented on
IS the wall as sulky, logged and Scotch, to
he that gentleman's great discontinue. One
would not have thought, looking upon
n the unfattering silhouette, that the orig
: inal was ever said to resemble Raphael
10 Mine was quite successful, and under il
l. st. Louis wrote very pretty compliment
al in verse. Shaun he gave a witty jest, ant
s; under his own classic features was writer
10 in a trembling hand:
IN ''Long L beheld my portrait win CONFUSION
- Yet still wished to my sihonette
10! here my profile with the rest Is set
10 God of my fathers what disillusion!"
The next morning was war1a, sum!
>" and delightful. After dejeuner we gath
" cred together our painting materials anr
:" started for the forest. Out through tn
~ back garden overgrown with rose bushe
L, and trailing vines, down the lane by tn
quaint old matched cottage which we al
longed to possess, but were going t
sketch as the next best thing, along tn
." quiet leafy path that led to messy rock
~ shaded by grand old trees. There Shau
unfoIded two easels, arranged two stools
and he and Mrs. Wycherley sat down
cd paint, reclined upon a rock to give
ad ''bit of color to the foreground, " Will
'as st. Louis lay at my feet chewing the en-
yer of pencil, persuading himself into tn
it'll idea that he was thinking up sonne
tty And so the day passed in quiet work an
- desultory conversation. Brilliant gree
Ssh lizards peeped out at us from under til
rocks, the sunshine fickered dow
he through the trees, and the thrushes san
cir loudly and sweet.
zy, All, those were pleasant days we dreame
ell away at Barbizon! Quaint strange, Barbizo
sh where the postman was woman, and tt
news-boy blew the horn to announce h
sci coming; where the gipsies establishe
nd themselves by the gate of the village an
,n- cooked out-of-doors-where the Peasan
oil worked and shaved, and the artists idle
nm and were merry; where the days passed
ere are passing-in quiet pleasant monoton.
it'll For we are here STILL and 1 would tie
nv you what happened next only that L cal
of not foresee tomorrow.
arv BELL OsBoURNE.