Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-06-15


Bessie Young, Bertha Gill, Mary Reinhart,
n. L. Shields, Annie Gray, Fannie Agnew,
Margaret Farrell. Cora Lee, NJ. M. Lang
ley, Bertha McCracken, Mary Morrison,
Annie Robinson, Tllie Whitmore and Lot
tie Ford.
Every morning, after breakfast, which
began at Z A. M, the class separated into
parties; each division being assigned to a
particular point. Then the sketching COM
menced. Miss Henderson proved an inde-
fatigable instructor. She hurried from
group to group, correcting, altering or COM
mending the work done bv those under her
charge. The pupils must have entered
heartily into their teachers spirit, for their
sketch books and portfolios we're filled with
excellent "bits" from the neigh borhood.
When the cleaning set in and supper had
been disposed OF, it was customary
to take short strolls by the river or through
the town; and to wind up the evening with
music. Altogether the week spent by these
budding Bonheurs and Buffers in drowsy
Wurtemburg must have been a delicious
one, after the stiff conventionality of their
winter existence. Indeed they all declared
that they had never felt 90 near fairy land
before.
That artist in the brigand clothes proved
to be quite facetious fellow. He sketched
everybody and everything. Winsome
maiden and village gamin, picturesque hill
side and tumble-down barn, all were re-
produced In his sketchbook.
FULL OF STORIES, TOO.
Then his storiesi There was one pleasant
tale about Mr.. George Hetzel, PIttsburg's
well-known landscape painter. 1t appeared
that while Mr.. Hetzel was in Wurtemburg
with some other artists, not long ago, a
practical joke was played on him. A sign
was carefully painted and hung up on a de-
serted frame hut by the roadside. The sign
read: George Hetzel, cobbler Old boots
and shoes mended while you wait" On the
day after the hanging OF this sign, the hut
was besieged by hordes of good people with
broken footwear. They were all sent down
to Mr.. Hetzel's residence, and the luckless
artist had to fee to the woods in order to
escape them.
Supper at the inn proved much the same
as dinner had been, and after supper the
broad -sbouldered host requested his two
guests to join in "gigging" party. To the
uninitiated it may be we'll to state that
"gigging" means spearing fish. The giggers
wade out into the river, toward evening,
some with lanterns, othersarmed with long
tridents, or three-pronged spears. When
the gigger sees q fish by the lamplight he
strikes at il with his spear, and good deal
OF precision is required. The artist and the
reporter were the veriest tyros at the bust
ness. They jabbed unsuccessiully for full
hour, at the end Of which the newspaper
man accidentally drove his spear into the
others foot This ended the gigging expert
ment forthwith.
Night had now began to fall upon the
little village, and there being no lamps the
roads were soon in utter darkness. The inn,
kz, uvae al lua nd h.
amateur giggers hied them, as fast as the
artists wounded foot would allow.
BEAUTY WITH ROD AND LINE.
One by one the cocks were Growing along
the valley, and slowly the sun was lifting
over the forest-clad hills, when the artist
and reporter arose refreshed from their slum-
bers. After another bath In the inn porch
they sauntered forth for a stroll before
breakfast. Under the old mill on the creek
several of the young ladies were fishing,
their dainty tennis hats and out-ot-door cos
tunes being admirably suited to the place
Further down there was another party
sketching under Miss Henderson's direction,
and two or three were attempting the ascent
of the opposite bluff. The two inn guests
surveyed the scene for fully half an hour,
and finally took courage to saunter down
into the valley to admire the sketches and
assist in the fishing. But they had scarcely
reached level ground when the changing of
bell disturbed the peaceful scene and sent
sketches, fishes and climbers, alike in hot
haste toward their various boarding houses.
It was the summons to breakfast, and break
fast often proves more interesting even than
art.
About 9 o'clock it came time to bid good
by to Wurtemburg, its sketching club, and
all its other pretty features. its Lieben-
dorfers, Hicksenbaughs, Hengstellars and
Houghs, those stalwart scions of old Hol-
lander families, whose fathers sailed from
HARLEM years and years ago. But must
is must" and bidding all the available
members of Miss Henderson's class goodby,
our reporter hastened toward the railway
station, in company with his two days
friend, the artist
The newspaper man was in the act of
getting on board when he felt touch on his
arm. 1t was the Burgomeister.
"Beggin' your pardon" began the village
father, "but haint you land Surveyor"
"Certainly not, sir" replied the reporter,
in injured tones.
'Then," cried the Burgomeister, "you
must be runnin' for Office. Now haint
you?"
But the reporter had fed into the cars,
and the question was left unanswered. As
he looked forth from his coign OF vantage
he found that the Burgomeister had
captured the artist and was apparently
drawing him out TO some purpose. And 30
asg Uisderslhn Wurtenburg.