Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: April 30, 2025
"See, LeMaury, this is young Master Everett, whom you have bewitched with your paint-pots. He would fain be an artist de gustibus ! Perhaps you have in him an apprentice for your return to France." The artist looked sharply at Nathaniel. "Eh, so? Can young master draw? Doth he know aught of chiaroscuro?" Nathaniel blushed at his ignorance and looked timidly at his protector.
"I shall not die, but live; and declare the works of the Lord." The great lady pointed with a sigh of pleasure to the canvas hung between a Greuze and a Watteau! "Ah, is there anyone like LeMaury! Alone in the eighteenth century he had eyes for the world of wood and stream. You poets and critics, why do you never write of him? Is it true that no one knows anything of his life?"
The old man suddenly smiled at him, all quaint drollery again. "And now wait." He put hand to mouth and hallooed down the lane. "Ho there! LeMaury!" As the Frenchman came into sight, the old man turned to Nathaniel, "Is this the gentleman who painted your willows?" "Oh, aye!" cried Nathaniel. The Frenchman dismounted near them with sparkling glances of inquiry.
"Nay, he knows naught of your painter's gibberish. Give him a crayon and a bit of white bark and see can he make my picture. I'll lean my head back and fold my hands to sleep." In the long sunny quiet that followed, the old man really slipped away into a light doze, from which he was awakened by a loud shout from LeMaury.
The young writer hesitated. "I do not think I exaggerate, madame, when I say that I alone in Paris know his history. He was a compatriot of mine." "Oh, come, Mr. Everett, LeMaury an American! With that name!" "He called himself LeMaury after his protector, the man who brought him to France. His real name was Everett, like my own. He was cousin to one of my great-grandfathers."
"What is that, LeMaury?" At the unexpected sound the boy half rose, showing a face so convulsed that the other horseman cried out alarmed, "It ees a man crazed! Ride on, mon colonel!" He put spurs to his horse and sprang forward as he spoke. The old soldier laughed a little, and turned to Nathaniel. "Why, 'tis the minister his son. I know you by the look of your father in you.
What bad dream have we waked you from, you pretty boy?" "You have not waked me from it," cried Nathaniel. "I will never wake as long as I live, and when I die !" "Why, LeMaury is right. The poor lad is crazed. We must see to this." He swung himself stiffly from the saddle and came limping up to Nathaniel.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking