The San Francisco call., 1896-09-20
Gle yODNG
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BY MARY KATHERINE CROWLEY.

About fifty years ago there lived in a
small house on an obscure street Of Lon
don boy named John.
Although he was fond of boyish games
from the time when he was a very little
fellow there was one thing that John
loved even better than play, and that was
to make pictures. The walls of the house
the doors and in some cases even the cell
ings were covered with sketches in char
coal or crayon; and poor John was the
worst boy to send on an errand, for he
was sure to be diverted by something he
saw on the way ana would stop to
draw picture of it on the
side of building or occasionally
on the back of his jacket, which he
would slip off for the purpose. This some
times brought him into trouble. His
mother was usually very patient with him,
however, for she had q mothers faith in
his talents, and his father acknowledged
that latter all the young rascal's pictures
were uncommonly good"
Others soon began to think so too.
When John was 8 years old little sketch
of his won silver medal from the Society
of Arts. He then entered regular class
at the Royal Academy, and gained two
more medals. But all this was long be-
fore the opening of our story.
He was now tall, prepossessing young
fellow, and some people said he ought to
be better employed than in dawdiing with
colors and canvas. There are always
busybodies who claim to be competent
judges in such matters. Perhaps in this
instance they had show of reason on
their side. too, for, although John had
done much clever work since the day his
mother beheld his little jacket decorated,
not with chalk marks again. but with his
first shining medal, his skill had not
gained him anything but honors and
encouraging words. His parents were
growing old; they had made many sacri-
fees that he might pursue his studies,
and now they were badly off for funds.
Don't worry, mother; it will be all
right, father" he told them cheerily.
keep up your spirits until my .Ferdi-
nand' is finished. 1t is the best thing
have done and cannot fail to bring good
price"
And so they hoped on and he painted
steadily, trying to portray his beautiful
ideal. The subject was Ferdinand and
Ariel" from Shakespeare's play, "The
Tempest"
One day he persuaded the dealer to go
and look at the picture. The man, after
examining it carefully said:
"It promises we'll. When il is COM
pleted, if 1 like it as much as do now, 1
will give you f100 for it"
At this good news there was great re-
joicing in the little home. John worked
with new enthusiasm. As the picture
grew more beautiful every day they
naturally regarded it as sold.
At last it was finished. Johns father
and mother, and the few friends to whom
he exhibited it, were loud in its praise,
and the young artist. in high spirits, and
feeling already the Joy of success, brought
the dealer to see it. But alasl the man
had changed his mind in the interval, or
he was out of humor, or some detail did
not please him; at any rate, he looked the
picture over coldly and finally said: II
spoke of buying your picture if liked it.
but l don't like it ana won't take it.
Good-morning.
Turning on his heel, he was gone before
the unfortunate painter could realize what
had happened. The consciousness came
soon enough, however, and then John
faltered, wondering how he was to tell the