The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No. 1, July, 1862 - Various 6 стр.

'H'm!' said Rocjean, 'I suppose you would be afraid to go to such horrible countries, among such people?'

'Not I,' spoke Rita,'didn't Ida go to Paris, and didn't she come back to Rome with such a magnificent silk dress, and gold watch, and such a bonnet! all full of flowers, and lace, and ribbons? Oh! they don't eat 'nothing but maccaroni' there! And they don't have priests all the time sneaking round to keep a poor girl from earning a little money honestly, and haul her up before the police if her carta di soggiorno [permit to remain in Rome] runs out. I wish [here Rita stamped her foot and her eyes flashed] Garibaldi would come here! Then you would see these black crows flying, Iddio giusto! Then we would have no more of these arciprete making us pay them for every mouthful of bread we eat, or wine we drink, or wood we burn.'

'Why,' said Caper, 'they don't keep the baker-shops, and wine-shops, and wood-yards, do they?'

'No,' answered Rita, 'but they speculate in them, and Fra 'Tonelli makes his cousins and so on inspectors; and they regulate the prices to suit themselves, and make oh! such tremen-di-ous fortunes. [Here Rita opened her eyes, and spread her hands, as if beholding the elephant.] Don't I remember, some time ago, how, when the Pope went out riding, he found both sides of the way from the Vatican to San Angelo crowded with people on their knees, groaning and calling to him. Said he to Fra 'Tonelli:

''What are these poor people about?'

''Praying for your blessed holiness,' said he, while his eyes sparkled.

''But,' said the Pope, 'they are moaning and groaning.'

''It's a way the poblaccio have,' answered 'Tonelli, 'when they pray.'

'The Pope knew he was lying, so, when he went home to the Vatican, he sent for one of his faithful servants, and said he:

''Santi, you run out and see what all this shindy is about?'

'So Santi came back and told him 'Tonelli had put up the price of bread, and the people were starving. So the Pope took out a big purse with a little money in it, and said he:

''Here, Santi, you go and buy me ten pounds of bread, and get a bill for it, and have it receipted!'

'So Santi came back with bread, and bill all receipted, and laid it down on a table, and threw a cloth over it. By and by, in comes 'Tonelli. Then the Pope says to him, kindly and smiling:

''I am confident I heard the people crying about bread to-day; now, tell me truly, what is it selling for?'

'Then 'Toneli told him such a lie. [Up went Rita's hands and eyes.]

'Then the Pope says, while he looked so [knitting her brows]:

''Oblige me, if you please, by lifting up that cloth.'

'And'Tonelli did.

'Bread went down six baiocchi next morning!'

'By the way, Rita,' asked Rocjean, 'where is your little brother, Beppo?'

'Oh! he's home,' she answered, 'but I wish you would ask your friend Enrico, the German sculptor, if he won't have him again, for his model.'

'Why, I thought he was using him for his new statue?'

'He was; but oh! so unfortunately, last Sunday, father went out to see his cousin John, who lives near Ponte Mole, and has a garden there, and Beppo went with him; but the dear little fellow is so fond of fruit, that he ate a pint of raw horse-beans!'

'Of all the fruit!' shouted Caper.

'Si, signore, it's splendid; but it gave Beppo the colic next day, and when he went to Signore Enrico's studio to pose for Cupid, he twisted and wrenched around so with pain, that Signore Enrico told him he looked more like a little devil than a small love; and when Beppo told him what fruit he had been eating, Signore Enrico bid him clear out for a savage that he was, and told him to go and learn to eat them boiled before he came back again.'

'I will speak to the Signore Enrico, and have him employ him again,' said Rocjean.

'Oh! I wish you would, for the Signore Enrico was very good to Beppo; besides, his studio is a perfect palace for cigar-stumps, which Beppo used to pick up and sellthat is, all those he and father didn't smoke in their pipes.'

'Make a sketch, Caper,' said Rocjean, 'of Cupid filling up his quiver with cigar-stumps, while he holds one between his teeth. There's a model love for you! Now, give Rita those two pauls you promised her, and let her go. Adio!'

GIULIA DI SEGNI

(Lines found written on the back of a sketch in Caper's portfolio.)

MR. BROWN BUYS A PAINTING

Caper's uncle, from St. Louis, Mr. William Browne, one day astonished several artists who were dining with him:

'My young men,' said he, 'there is one thing pleases me very much about you all, and that is, you never mention the word Art; don't seem to care any thing more about the old masters than I would about a lot of old worn-out broom-sticks; and if I didn't know I was with artists in Rome, the cribno, what d' ye call it?'

'The manger?' suggested Rocjean.

'Yes,' continued Uncle Bill, 'the manger of art, I should think I was among a lot of smart merchants, who had gone into the painting business determined to do a right good trade.'

'Cash on delivery,' added Caper.

'Yes, be sure of that. Well, I like it; I feel at home with you; and as I always make it a point to encourage young business men, I am going to do my duty by one of you, at any rate. I shan't show favor to my nephew, Jim, any more than I do to the rest. And this is my plan: I want a painting five feet by two, to fill up a place in my house in St. Louis; it's an odd shape, and that is so much in my favor, because you haven't any of you a painting that size under way, and can all start even. I'll leave the subject to each one of you, and I'll pay five hundred dollars to the man who paints the best picture, who has his done within seven days, and puts the most work on it! Do you all understand?'

They replied affirmatively.

'But what the thunder,' asked Caper, 'are those of us who don't win the prize, going to do with paintings of such a size, left on our hands? Nobody, unless a steamboat captain, who wants to ornament his berths, just that size, and relieve the tedium of his passengers, would ever think of buying them.'

They replied affirmatively.

'But what the thunder,' asked Caper, 'are those of us who don't win the prize, going to do with paintings of such a size, left on our hands? Nobody, unless a steamboat captain, who wants to ornament his berths, just that size, and relieve the tedium of his passengers, would ever think of buying them.'

'Well,' replied Uncle Bill, 'I don't want smart young men like you all, to lose your time and money, so I'll buy the balance of the paintings for what the canvas and paints cost, and give two dollars a day for the seven days employed on each painting. Isn't that liberal?'

'Like Cosmo de Medici,' answered Rocjean; 'and I agree to the terms in every particular, especially as to putting the most work on it! There are four competitorsput down their names. Légume, you will come in, won't you?'

'Certainly I will, by Jing!' answered the French artist, who prided himself on his knowledge of English, especially the interjections.

'Then,' continued Rocjean, 'Caper, Bagswell, Légume, and I, will try for your five hundred dollar prize. When shall we commence?'

'To-day is Tuesday,' replied Uncle Bill; 'say next Mondaythat will give you plenty of time to get your frames and canvases. So that ends all particulars. There are two friends of mine here from the United States, one, Mr. Van Brick, of New York, and the other, Mr. Pinchfip, of Philadelphia, whom I think you all met here last week.'

'The thin gentleman with hair very much brushed, be Gad?' asked Légume.

'I don't remember as to his hair,' answered Uncle Bill, 'but that's the man. Well, these two I know will act as vampires, and I am sure you will be pleased with their verdict. Monday after next, therefore, we will all call, so be ready.'

The four artists took the whole thing as a joke, but determined to paint the pictures; and at Caper's suggestion, each one agreed, as there was a play of words in the clause, 'most work on it,' to puzzle Uncle Bill, and have the laugh on him.

On the day appointed to decide the prize, Uncle Bill, accompanied by Messrs. Van Brick and Pinchfip, called first at Légume's studio; they found him in the Via Margutta, (in English, Malicious street,) in a light, airy room, furnished with a striking attention to effect. On his easel was a painting of the required size, representing Louis XV. at Versailles, surrounded by his lady friends. By making the figures of the ladies small, and crowding them, Légume managed to get a hundred or two on the canvas. A period in their history to which Frenchmen refer with so much pleasure, and with which they are so conversant, was treated by the artist with professional zeal. The merits of the painting were carefully canvassed by the two judges. Mr. Pinchfip found it exceedingly graceful, neat, and pretty. Mr. Van Brick admired the females, remarking that he should like to be in old Louis's place. To which Légume bowed, asserting that he was sure he was in every way qualified to fill it. Mr. Van Brick determined in his mind to give the artist a dinner, at Spillman's, for that speech.

Mr. Pinchfip took notes in a book; Mr. Van Brick asked for a light to a cigar. The former congratulated the artist; the latter at once asked him to come and dine with him. Mr. Pinchfip wished to know if he was related to the Count Légume whom he had met at Paris. Mr. Van Brick told him he would bring his friend Livingston round to buy a painting. Mr. Pinchfip said that it would afford him pleasure to call again. Mr. Van Brick gave the artist his card, and shook hands with him:and the judges were passing out, when Légume asked them to take one final look at the painting to see if it had not the most work on it. Mr. Van Brick instantly turned toward it, and running over it with his eye, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

'If the others beat that, I am mistaken,' said he. 'Look at there!' calling the attention of Uncle Bill and Mr. Pinchfip to a fold of a curtain on which was painted, in small letters,

'I say, Browne,' continued Mr. Van Brick, 'he is too many for you; and if the one who puts 'most work' on his painting is to win the five hundred dollars, Légume's chance is good.'

'Very ingenious,' said Mr. Pinchfip, 'very; it is a legitimate play upon words. But legally, I can not affirm that I am aware of any precedent for awarding Mr. Browne's money to Monsieur Légume on this score.'

'We will have to make a precedent, then,' spoke Van Brick, 'and do it illegally, if we find that he deserves the money. But time flies, and we have the other artists to visit.'

They next went to Bagswell's studio, in the Viccolo dei Greci, and found him in a large room, well furnished, and having a solidly comfortable look; the walls ornamented with paintings, sketches, costumes, armor; while in a good light under its one large window, was his painting. They found he had left his beaten track of historical subjects, and in the genre school had an interior of an Italian country inna kitchen-scene. It represented a stout, handsome country girl, in Ciociara costume, kneading a large trough of dough, while another girl was filling pans with that which was already kneaded, and two or three other females were carrying them to an oven, tended by a man who was piling brush-wood on the fire. The painting was very life-like, and for the short time employed on it, well finished. It wanted the fire and dash of Légume's painting, but its truthfulness to life evidently made a deep impression on Uncle Bill. Stuck on with a sketching-tack to one corner was a piece of paper, on which was marked the number of hours employed each day on the work; it summed up fifty-four hours, or an average each day of nearly eight hours' work on it.

Mr. Pinchfip's note-book was again called into play. Mr. Van Brick had another cigar to smoke, remarking that the artist had triple work in his picturehead, bread, and prize-work: his picture representing working in, over, and for bread!

They next went to see Rocjean, in the Corso; they found him in a bournouse, with a fez on his head, a long chibouk in his mouth, smoking away, extended at full length on a settee, which he insisted was a divan. There was a glass bottle holding half a gallon of red wine on a table near him, also a bottle of Marsala, and half a dozen glasses. There was a roaring wood-fire in his stovefor it was December, and the day was overcast and cool.

'This is the most out and out comfortable old nest I've seen in Rome,' said Mr. Van Brick, as they entered; 'and as for curiosities and plunder, you beat Barnum. Will I take a glass of wine? I am there!'

Rocjean filled up glasses. Mr. Pinchfip declining, as he never drank before dinner, neither did he smoke before dinner. He told them that the late Doctor Phyzgig, who had always been their (the Pinchfips') family physician, had absolutely forbidden it.

No one made any remark to this, unless Mr. Van Brick's expressive face could be translated as observing, in a quiet manner, that the late Doctor was possibly dyspeptic, and probably nervous.

Rocjean's painting represented a view of the Claudian aqueduct, mountains in the distance; bold foreground, shepherd with flocks, a wayside shrine, peasants kneeling in front of it. Over all, bold cloud effects. A very ponderous volume balanced on top of the picture, and leaning against the easel, invited Uncle Bill's attention, and he asked Rocjean why he had put it there? The artist answered that it was a folio copy of Josephus, his works, and, as he was anxious to comply with the terms of Mr. Browne, he had placed it there in order to put the most work on it.

Mr. Pinchfip having asked Rocjean why, in placing that book there, he was like a passenger paying his fare to the driver of an omnibus?