The second paper was as follows:—
"Joseph Berr, called José, requiring, in order to be able to prosecute his studies in painting, during four years, a sum of money, which I possess, I give it to him as a loan which he will return to me when his profession becomes profitable, together with the interests and costs as is just and customary.
f. c. "First. One franc per day for maintenance during the space of four years, making 1460 0 Item. For entering the studio of a celebrated master, 15 francs per month for four years 720 0 Item. For indemnifying Madame Barbe, for three years' apprenticeship, still due to her 50 0 Item. For 25 centimes every Sunday, for child's amusements 52 0 Item. For my journey hither by coach, expressly on his account 10 0 Item. For my expenses while here 12 0 Item. For this sheet of stamped paper 0 30 Item. For interest during four years 460 6 2764 36 "Which sum I undertake to pay, according as required, Provided that the board and lodging be furnished by Dame Robert as heretofore.
"The said José will put his mark at the end of this deed, to which I also cheerfully put my name.
"Sebastian Gabri."
| f. | c. | |
| "First. One franc per day for maintenance during the space of four years, making | 1460 | 0 |
| Item. For entering the studio of a celebrated master, 15 francs per month for four years | 720 | 0 |
| Item. For indemnifying Madame Barbe, for three years' apprenticeship, still due to her | 50 | 0 |
| Item. For 25 centimes every Sunday, for child's amusements | 52 | 0 |
| Item. For my journey hither by coach, expressly on his account | 10 | 0 |
| Item. For my expenses while here | 12 | 0 |
| Item. For this sheet of stamped paper | 0 | 30 |
| Item. For interest during four years | 460 | 6 |
| 2764 | 36 |
It is easy to imagine the agony of poor José while listening to the reading of these papers; what would have overwhelmed him with joy the evening before, now filled him with anguish. Gabri, that tender and generous friend, as a reward for his sacrifice, was about to learn that the object of his care was unworthy of it. Still José was not guilty, and these bitter trials were now on the point of coming to the happiest termination. Francisco, tormented as one always is by the consciousness of having done wrong, and rendered uneasy about his friend on account of M. Barbe's visit, determined to confess all to his father, who had no difficulty in convincing him of the gravity of his fault, and of the inconvenience which might result to the innocent José, who might perhaps be accused of having stolen the colours from his master. Francisco, alarmed at this idea, entreated his father to take him instantly to M. Barbe's; and there, regardless of the spectators, he had the courage and the merit to confess his fault, and thus completely justify his friend.
Whilst Madame Barbe stood biting her lips, and saying, "It is very singular, very strange," and her kind-hearted husband brushed the tears from his eyes, the two boys affectionately embraced each other, and enjoyed the happiest moment of their young lives. A moment afterwards, José had another triumph, highly flattering indeed to his self-love, but not to be compared in real worth with the noble friendship of Francisco. The young author of the injured painting was with his master when Madame Barbe wrote to him her anything but clear account of the accident, which she was anxious to turn to the disgrace of poor José. This master was the very Monsieur G—— before mentioned, who, recognising in the hero of the story, the child who had so much interested him at the Museum, wished to accompany his pupil to M. Barbe's. For a long time he examined in silence the attempt which had cost the poor boy so dear, then turning towards his pupil, "If you don't make haste," he said, "I can tell you he will catch you." This man, distinguished as much by feeling as by genius, was able to appreciate the action of the worthy and generous Gabri; he read his letter with emotion, and taking a pencil, ran it through the fifteen francs per month destined for José's instruction. "I cannot hope," he said, smiling, to José, "to be the celebrated master mentioned by Gabri, but he must at least let me teach you all I know."
It may easily be imagined, that everything was arranged, without difficulty, to the entire delight of the poor boy. Madame Barbe, awed by the presence of Monsieur G—— and Monsieur Enguehard, felt that she must put some restraint upon her tongue. She unhesitatingly accepted, it is true, the indemnification of fifty francs, and only murmured on the day that Barbe presented José with his first box of colours. Dame Robert, who was consulted in all important arrangements, was at first somewhat discontented with José's choice; but she could refuse nothing to her dear child. "And, after all," she said, "it is a trade, like any other. I am only sorry that the apprenticeship is so long." She was completely consoled, however, when José came once more to live with her.
To complete José's happiness, M. Enguehard, a short time after these occurrences, begged M. G—— to receive his son as a pupil. The two friends, therefore, were again together, following the same career with equal ardour, and although with different success, still without any interruption to their mutual friendship.
Those who are curious to know whether José justified the hopes inspired by his childhood, may have their curiosity gratified by a perusal of the Second Part of his history.
SEQUEL
TO
THE HISTORY OF POOR JOSÉ.
How tranquil and pleasant is the life of the artist! He possesses an advantage which is denied even to the fortunate of this world,—an occupation always affording amusement and variety, together with an almost total indifference to everything which does not bear directly upon painting. The artist sees that all is quiet in the town in which he lives; this is enough for him: scarcely does he know the names of the ministers in office, and he is the last to learn what is going on around. Occupied the whole day with his art, his studio is his universe; and at night, in the midst of a re-union of friends, artists like himself, he still dwells upon his favourite idea, which is never absent from his mind, while he gains instruction, or is inspired with increased ardour by the conversation of his colleagues or rivals. These re-unions are gay, and abound in wit, as well as in mischief. Not a few of those caricatures which attract the loungers of the Boulevards and the Rue du Coq, have been sketched by a skilful hand during these moments of recreation. A few amiable women, authors, distinguished musicians, and poets, make a part of these seductive meetings: each one amuses himself according to his fancy; and if the mirth is sometimes a little noisy, and the wit a little too free, wit and mirth are at least always to be found in them.