verybody loved Père Corot—Papa Corot, as he was called. His happy manner and lovely smile won for him the name of the "happy one." I want you to know what Papa Corot says, in a letter to a friend, about himself and his painting. He writes:
"Look you, it is charming, the day of a landscapist. He gets up at three in the morning, before sunrise, goes and sits under a tree, and watches and waits. Not much can be seen at first. Nature is behind a veil. Everything smells sweet.
"Ping! a ray of yellow light shoots up. The veil is torn, and meadow and valley and hill are peeping through the rent.
"Bing, bing! the sun's first ray—another ray—and the flowers awake and drink a drop of quivering dew. The leaves feel cold and move to and fro. Under the leaves unseen birds are singing softly. The flowers are saying their morning prayers.
"Bam! the sun has risen. Bam! a peasant crosses the field with a cart and oxen. Ding! ding! says the bell of the ram that leads the flock of sheep.
"Bam! bam! all bursts—all glitters—all is full of light, blond and caressing as yet. The flowers raise their heads. It is adorable. I paint! I paint!
"Boom! boom! boom! The sun aflame burns the earth. Everything becomes heavy. Let us go home. We see too much now. Let us go home."
You see now why Corot could paint such a lovely picture as "The Nymphs." He saw these gauzy creatures in the early morning light and painted them before the sun scattered them to the four winds.