Connecticut western news., 1890-12-03
A BETTER PICTURE.

Uncle Jers Potter Sees ''The Angelus,'' p but Prefers Ris Copy of ''The Last supper.'
 Old Uncle Jere Potter, we'll known justice of the peace living in southern Missouri, came to Chicago, and while here went to see '"The Angelus." When he returned to the hotel the clerk asked him if he liked the famous picture.
 'Oh, yes, liked it we'll enough, but Pdhave to be mighty flush with money and care mighty little for it before I would give SIC, ,OOO for it. Put sas- safras frame round it and hang it up in barn where there was dance go- in on, and low that not one man in fifty would take any notice of it. Oh, the paint is we'll laid on-smooth and all that-but it ain't worth the money, that's all. I've seen many a picture that I wouldn't swap for it-got ono myself that l wouldn't give for it without good deal of boot"
 ''What is the name of your picture7"
 ' The Last Supper It is a power fully interestin' piece of work, can tell you. There sits the Saviour and his disciples, with Judas a-soppin' in the dish; and there is John, with love and tenderness writ all over his face; and there is Peter, good and true, but withal a little shaky, as the vote after ward shows There is Thomas, with 8 sort of shrewd expression of doubt on his face. The table ain't none too fine looks like two trestles with some plank put across 'em, but when you come down to the paint you'll find it right there. There ain't no. Eincin' matters; no stinginess. The man that painted it jest snatched up his bresh and went to work. He didn't slight one part by makin' some other a leetle redder or little bluer, but he was fair an honest an treated em all alike. He was what I call honest man. Some painters, sign painters, mostly, have sighted their work, but this man didn't. He understood his obligation and followed it out. He was man of the people-an honest citizen"
 ''The picture you speak of, said the clerk, lis mere daub. The bread is blue, the meat is black and the hash is
 "Yes, that may be true, but the work is there, just the same. I know all about that. The work is mighty inclined to make fun of the art that held forth in them days, but natur' is natur' and art kain't help itself. As tell you, this picture of mine is beau nothin'. Ne and my my wife fear and Iy my lit lit. tie people set round the fire at night and watch the fire light as it falls on that lar picture, and immijitly there comes up before us that old garden with its scrubby trees and spring branch that went tricklin' among the rocks. We see the Saviour with his sad and beautiful face and we hear the low words of reproach that he speaks to his apostles. That picture is hung in our dinin' room, and whenever we go in there it makes us happy, for when we look at it we know we have a friend in the world to come. My lit tie boy, the sweetest little feller that ever lived, lay there on his bed, day after day, and looked at that picture his mother told him that it was the picture of the great Christ, and one time when I didn't think he was goin' denly and saw him holdin' out his arms toward it. The last thing he saw in this life was Christ settin' there talkin love to the man that afterwards betrayed him. I reckon I would be put down as fool, but I kain't help 1ovin' that ole picture. Oh, of course nobody would want to buy it-nobody would want it in the house--but some how I wouldn't swap it for no pic ture that ever was painted. Yes, ad- init that Peters face is blue and that Johns face is green, but no paint has hid the beautiful smile on the face of the Saviour. Wall, reckon I must go up to my room. '-Arkansaw Traveller.