“Oh, an imaginary being, of course. But take care, Senor Gonzalo,” continued Sebastian, with a mischievous glance at his easel, “for it must be the Zombi who has sketched the left arm of your St. John to such a length that, if the right resembles it, he will be able to untie his shoe-strings without stooping.”
“Do you know, gentlemen,” said Isturitz, as he glanced at the painting, “that the remarks of Sebastian are extremely just, and much to the point.”
“Oh, they say that negroes have the faces of asses, and the tongues of parrots,” rejoined Gonzalo, in a tone of indifference.
“With this distinction,” observed Ferdinand, “that the parrot repeats by rote, while Sebastian shows judgment in his remarks.”
“Like the parrot, by chance,” retorted Gonzalo.
“Who knows,” said Mendez, who had not digested the Naples yellow, “that from grinding the colors, he may one day astonish us by showing that he knows one from another.”
“To know one color from another, and to know how to use them, are two very different things,” replied Sebastian, whom the liberty of the studio allowed to join in the conversation of the pupils; and truth obliges us to confess that his taste was so exquisite, his eye so correct, that many of them did not disdain to follow the advice he frequently gave them respecting their paintings. Although they sometimes amused themselves by teasing the little mulatto, he was a great favorite with them all; and this evening, on quitting the studio, each, giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder, counselled him to keep a strict watch and catch the Zombi, for fear of the lash.
(To be continued.)
Peter Pilgrim’s Account of his Schoolmates. No. 2.
Among my schoolmates, there were two boys who were always inseparable, yet they were as unlike each other in all respects as can well be conceived; What strange sympathy united them so closely, was to us all a matter of wonder; yet their friendship continued to increase, and the one seemed ever unhappy when absent from the other. Bill Hardy was a stout, hearty little fellow, fond of active and athletic sports, and ever the foremost in all feats of daring and mischief. If there was a battle to be fought with the butcher’s saucy imp, or the blacksmith’s grim-faced apprentice, who but Bill was thrust forward as the ready champion. And many a hard-fought contest did he wage with them, and many a black eye did he give and receive in his wars. But his spirit was ever unconquerable. If he received from their wicked fists a sound drubbing to-day, he was nothing loth to-morrow to try his luck again; and thus, by dint of persevering courage, he often contrived by a lucky blow to win a victory over his more powerful adversaries. Often did the graceless youth return to his widowed mother with a disfigured face, and with torn garments, and, after receiving her gentle reprimand, promise better things for the future; but with the next morning’s sun all his good resolutions vanished, and his repentant promises were forgotten. He seemed to overflow with the very spirit of fun and mischief. It was his delight to fasten a tin kettle to the tail of any vagabond dog in the streets, and send him howling with terror from one end of the village to the other. He enjoyed also great satisfaction in worrying every luckless cat that he could lay his hands on; and every poor broken-down horse in the pasture could attest to the weight of his arm and the sharpness of his heel. No unfortunate little bird could find a perch for its nest high enough to be safe from his marauding fingers, for he would fearlessly clamber to the very tops of the highest tree, like a squirrel, and scale the most dangerous precipice, in pursuit of his prey.