There they run, up and down, critical or enthusiastical,
as the humor strikes: Laura, with big blue eyes and a loud voice,
pitying Isidora because she "has never met" that dear Mr. Herkimer, who
paints such delicious, dreamy landscapes; and Emily dragging everybody
off to see Mr. Smith's great work, "The Boy and the Windmill,"
which--so surprising is his facility--he actually painted in less than
twelve days, and which "promises so much for his success and the future
of American Art," says this sage young critic, out of whose gray eyes
look the garnered experiences of almost eighteen summers.
Whoever desiderates cheap praise, let him cultivate a beard and a
sleepy look, and hang a picture in the Academy rooms. Elkanah received
it, you may be sure. It was thought _so_ romantic, that he, a
fisherman,--the young ladies sunk the shoemaker, I believe,--should be
_so_ devoted to Art. How splendidly it spoke for our civilization, when
even sailors left their vessels, and, abjuring codfish, took to canvas
and brushes! What admirable courage in him, to come here and endeavor
to work his way up from the very bottom! What praiseworthy
self-denial,--"No!! is it _really_ so?" cried Miss Jennie,--when he had
left behind him a fair young bride!
It was as though it had been written, "Blessed is he who forsaketh
father, mother, and wife to paint pictures.
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