The Marlboro democrat. [volume] (Bennettsville, S.C.) 1882-1908, 1889-12-20

|lisS ears detecteus jn such employment,
|HIheyenerablp cure WASH tonder-hesrted
good man, When lie SYas young he
|liad lived inSCities, and had a taste fol
and some knowledge of the fine arts.
EPetit PierTe's Work appeared to hIm
very remarkable now, and to promise /,
most brilliant future. The worthy
priest was touched with this solitary
pursuit., this unconscious genius that,
wasting its sweetness Gu the desert
arr Was p,tiently reproducing tho
work Of the Creator. y
"My young friend, modesty Is q
worthy sentiment, but you need not
blush in that way. There Is no harm
lii drawing If one does not neglect otller
duties. There Is u good deal Of merit
In tho picture-the trees are true to
life and tho shrubs each have the leaves
that belong 10 them. You must have
been d close observer before you could
iiavS reproduced anything from what
you saw-how much more merit to be
able to originate anything"
This was the first encouragement
Petit Pierre ever had; IL gave him the
first confidence In his genius that was
to be so great, 500 OH, my son." con-
tinued the good pastor, s'perhaps you
will be another Giotto. He, like you,
was u poor shepherd, but acquired so
much skill that II OF his pictures was
carried in procession by tho enthusiasts
tic citizens Of Florence.n
During tic long winter evenings the
good priest taught Petit Pierre how to
read and write, the two keys Of knowl-
edge. The shepherd progressed rapidly,
for he learnt with his heart rs we'll us
with his head.
Another summer rolled around. Petit
Pierre was once moro abroad with his
sheep, but this summer he had deyel-
oped wonderfully, physically and non
tally. He had eaton Of the trea Of
knowledge under the wise tuition Of
tho priest.
The intoxication Of ambition fired
his soul-fortunately Petit Pierre had
no adm!ring fri0nds-neitiier the trees
nor the rocks could flatter him. Tho
immensity Of nature that lie was con-
stantly brought into contact with
showed him very soon his own little
ness. Furnished by tho Cure with all
the paper and crayons lie wanted, ho
made a great number Of studies. But
he never saw tho beautiful lady again
save in his dreams; tlien she always
appeared radiant and encouraging,
saying: "That is well, my friend; per-
severo. and youwill have yourreward."
An event, very simple III itself, which
was destined to affect tho whole Of
Petit Pierre's life, suddenly cumo to
pass. sit is always tho unexpected
that happens" and nothing could be
more so than the advent Of II now pict-
ure for tho little church. Tho painter,
u rising artist, careful OF his pictures,
attended to the transportation OF this
ono himself, and, after the proper
placing of tho picture, repaired to tho
Cures home, where the latter showed
the visitor some OF Petit Pierre's draw
ings. The boy, pale as death, leaned
heavily against the stable. pressing his
hand against his heart, for it seemed us
though 1t would burst, then waited III
silence for the condemnation Of all his
dreams. lie could not imagine Il man
so we'll dressed, well-gloved, and with q
knot Of red ribbon i'll his %buttonholc,
tho author OF q picture surrounded
with II gold frame, could find any merit
in charcoal sketches OH grey paper,
The painter picked up and threw aside
several sketches without saying Il word.
Then the color mounted to his cheeks,
and he uttered short EXPLANATIONS III
studio phrases.
"This is glorlousl And this, how
naturrlt And this; chic Gorot' could
llpt 90 better, TINS charcoal sketch
WoNld elaze Daiabcrg. Hills SieSpjp1
lAnlD IS IN l;tnl lottoiis, styieStI
W!h:A hp AUd iliislleG! IA. sose, w.ikS,i
oyer. VI )letit 'qrrc AuQ Slopll him cor.
daily ly. die lim1, SayinE.
t'larUiGu, tliOugl 10 10 not considered
very honorable among artists TO say so,
| must tell you, my dear, boy, you know
moro than all my scholars put together.
Come to Paris with me; in six months
| will teach you tho details Of manner
and style; then you will be able to
walk alone. II nothing unforeseen hap
pens, can predict, wi bout comprO-
missing myself, you will be very success
full"
Petit Pierre, we'll warned OF the dan
gers Of modern Babylon, left with the
painter, taking F1delo with him. The
painter, with that goodness OF heart
that usually accompanies talent,
thought Il familiar figure would have Il
beneficial effect OIL his pupil amid
strange surroundings. Fidele~ would
not allow himself to be lifted into the
stage, but followed on foot as fast as
his establishment would allow. roassured
from time to Time by lis masters face.
1t would be difficult to follow Petit
Pierro's progress. Tic works Of the
great masters, Of whom he made fire.
qucnt copies, were Of tho greatest SER
vice to HIM. lie passed from the severe
style Of Ponssin to the languishlng OF
Claude Lorraine; from the bold hardi-
hood of Salvador Rosa to the mosaic
like detail Of Ruysdael; but he dill not
adobt any particular style. Originality
was too much part Of himself. He
was nc studio painter, who took photo
graphs OF sketches from nature for SIX
weeks III summer to enlarge or finish
them Ill winter. Petit Plerrc's pictures
seemed impregnated with tho aroma Of
the woods; one felt, looking at them,
as If que had passed into the forest
through the canvas. The instructions
Of art had como soon enough to prevent
his taking q wrong route In style, but