Ernest was such a quiet little fellow, and was so fond of pictures, that Mr. Norton, the artist, was always glad to see him in his studio; for Ernest did not trouble him, but would stand looking at the pictures for a quarter of an hour at a time.
One day, as he stood admiring a painting in which some horses were represented, he noticed a fault; for Ernest was a judge of horses: he was himself the owner of one—made of wood. "Look here, Mr. Norton," said he, "isn't one of the hind-legs of this horse longer than the other?"
Mr. Norton left his easel, and came and told Ernest to point out in the painting what fault he meant. The little fellow did so; and the painter exclaimed, "Why, you little chip of a critic, you are right as sure as I'm alive! We must make a painter of you."
Ernest is not quite old enough yet to decide whether he will make a painter or a confectioner. The sight of the beautiful candies and cakes which he has seen in some of the shops, inclines him to the belief that a confectioner's lot is the more enviable one. He thinks it must be a charming occupation to make molasses-candy, and be able to eat as much as he wants. He must live and learn.
Arthur Selwyn.