The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-10-02
ROSA BONHEUR'S YOUTH.
BY SARAH K. BOLTON.

BY SARAH K. BOLTON.
In a simple home in Paris could have
been seen in 1929 Raymond Bonheur and
his little family - Rosa, seven years old,
Auguete, Isadore, and Juliette. He was
man of fine talent in painting, but
obliged to spend his time in giving draw
ing lessons to support his children. His
wife, Sophia, gave lessons on the piano,
going from house all day long and some
times sewing half the night to earn lit
tie more for the necessities OF life.
Hard work and poverty soon bore it's u.s.
ual fruit, and the tired young mother died
in 1888. The three eldest children went to
board with a plain woman, LA Mere
Catherine" in the Champs Elysees, and
the youngest was placed with relatives
For two years the good woman cared for
the children, sending them to schools,
though she was greatly troubled because
Rosa persisted in playing in the woods
of the Bots de Boulogne, gathering her
arms full of daisies and marigolds, rather
than to be shut up in school room. 81
never spent an hour of fine weather In
doors during the whole of the two years."
she has often said since those days.
Finally, the father married again and
brought the children home. The two
boys were placed in school, and M. Bon
heur paid their way by giving drawing
lessons three times a week in the institu-
ton. If Rosa did not love school she
must be taught something useful, and she
was accordingly placed in sewing estab-
lishment to become a seamstress.
The child hated sewing, ran the needle
into her fingers with every stitch, cried for
the fresh air and sunshine, and finally,
becoming pale and sickly, was taken
back to the Bonheur home. The anxious
painter would try his child once more in
school; so he arranged that she should
attend, with compensation met in the same
way as for his boys. Rosa soon became a
favorite with the girls at the Fa,ibourg st.
Antoine school, especially because she
could draw such witty csricatures of the
teachers, which she pasted against the
wall with bread chewed into the coneis-
tency of putty. The teachers were not
pleased, but SO struck we're they with the
yieor and originality of the drawings
that they carefully preserved the sketch
es in an album.
The girl was far from happy. Natural
ly sensitive as what poet or painter was
ever born otherwise, she could not bear
TO wear calico dress and coarse shoes
and eat with an iron spoon from tin
cup when the other girls wore handsome
dresses and had silver mugs and spoons.
She grew melancholy, neglected her
books, and finally became so i'll that she
had to be taken home.
And now Raymond Bonheur very WISE
ly decided not to make plans for his
child for time, but see what was her
natural tendency. 1t was well he made
this decision in time, before she had been
spoiled by his we'll meant but poor inten-
tions. Left to herself, she constantly
hung about her fathers studio, now
drawing, now modelling, copying whatev-
or she saw him do. She seemed never to
be tired, but sang at her work all the day
long.
Monsieur Bonheur suddenly awoke to
the fact that his daughter had great tai
emit. He began to teach her carefully to
make her accurate in drawing and COR
rect in perception. Then he sent her to
the Louvre to copy the works of the old
masters. Here she worked with the
greatest industry and enthusiasm, not
observing anything that was going on
around her. Said the director OF the
Louvre: 81 have never seen an example
of such application and such ardor for
work."
One day an elderly English gentleman
stopped before her easel and said: "Your
copy, my child, is superb, faultlessl Per-
severe as you have begun, and 1 prophe-
sy you will be great artist" How
glad these few words made her! She went
home thinking over to herself the deter
mination she had made in school when
she ate with her iron spoon, that some
time she would be as famous as her
schoolmates, and have some of the COM
forts of life.
Her copies of the old masters were
soon sold, and though they brought
small prices, she gladly gave the money
to her father, who needed it now more
than ever. His second wife had two sons
when he married her, and now they had
a third, German, and every cent that
Rosa could earn was needed to help sup
port seven children. "La Mamiche," as
they called the new mother, was an excel
lent manager of the meager finances, and
filled her place well.
Rosa was now seventeen, loving land
scape, historical, and genre painting,
perhaps equally, but happening to paint