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836 ONCE A WEEK. [Ootomr 22, 1859.


“Oh, yes,” said the child. “I have them on Sunday. The good curt gave me some, and after mass I draw all day long. I am so happy then, without any pigs to look after.”

“It seems to me that you have that pleasure now,” said the other, “for I see none anywhere.”

“Those stupid, tiresome beasts, they are always running away and, brandishing his stick, he rushed into the little grove near, and was soon heard shouting, gesticulating, screaming to his pigs; but it was some time before he oould bring them all back; and in the meanwhile the stranger stood examining the scratches in the sand.

We may as well mention here who this gentle- man was who took so much interest in the little swineherd’s sketches, and inform our readers that he was a prince of one of the noblest families in Poland. More fortunate than the greater part of his countrymen, the father of Prince Ponasky had sold his great estates in Poland before its dismem- berment by its powerful neighbours, and had settled in France, in whose rich and luxurious capital he could freely indulge his taste for the refined and beautiful. His son had grown up a perfect enthusiast of Art — one of those men one finds often in the higher circles, who, without any positive genius for the art they devote themselves to, have yet the greatest passion for everything connected with it. There are some patrons of art who take a kindly interest in those who minister to their pleasures; and one of the noblest of these was Prince Ponasky; his purse, his time, his sympathy, were ever at the service of the struggling artist; to have genius was a sure passport to his favour; and many, now famous, bless the kind hand that helped, and the wise head that counselled their inexperienced youth.

When the boy returned hot and breathless from his chase, the Prince was still contemplating the sand drawings.

“My friend,” he said, “there is a great fault here. You have made the off1- wheel about three times larger than the near one.”

“Yes,” said the boy, “that puzzles me. AH my drawings of carts and carriages look wrong, and I cannot tell why. Both the wheels are really the same size, and yet if I make both the same length, one looks larger than the other.”

“I will tell you,” said the Prince. And taking the stick from the child’s hand, he explained to him some of the first principles of perspective. The quick, intelligent eyes of his auditor followed eagerly every word and movement, and at the conclusion he clapped his hands with joy, and exclaiming, “I see now how to draw the wheels,” he moved to an untrodden bit of sand, and drew the carriage with the most perfect correctness.

The Prince was delighted with his quick com- prehension, and asked the boy to show him some of his Sunday sketches on paper.

“Well,” he replied, “I have not got any here, but if you will come to-morrow I shall be here. This is the best bit of ground for drawing on for three miles round, and the view is so beautiful down there.”

“But, my little friend, to-morrow I shall be many leagues from here, on my road to Paris.”


“Then if you will stay here and take care of the pigs, I will go and fetch them for you.”

“Thank you,” replied the other, drily; “I think the best plan would be for you to tell me where your mother lives, and then I could go and look at your drawings there. I don’t exactly see where the pigs are at this moment.”

“Oh!” said the little swineherd, with a gesture of despair, “I never can draw for two minutes together in peace. I must go after them again.”

“Tell me your mother’s name first.”

“Kaysar, sir — La Mere Kaysar. She lives in the first cottage after the church. You see the tower there above the trees.”

“And your name is — - —”

“Heinrich; I am the youngest but two, and there are ten of us altogether.”

“Well, adieu my little friend, perhaps we may meet again soon — don’t forget what I have taught you.”

“O! there is no danger of that, sir. I shall praotise it as soon as ever those horrible pigs give me a moment’s rest.”

Prince Panasky pursued his way to the top of the hill, where his carriage was waiting for him. He got in, and told the postilion to leave the high- road, proceed to the little village on the left, and stop at the cottage next the church.

The valet had been duly explaining to the postilion whilst they waited, that his master was an eccentric foreigner, crazed on the subject of artists and paintings. So the Prince was obeyed without more astonishment than was conveyed by an ex- pressive shrug of the postilion's shoulders to the valet, and replied to by him with a significant shake of the head.

At the door of la Mfere Kaysar the carriage stopped and the Prince entered. The good woman, who was washing, was filled with astonishment and terror at seeing so grand an equipage stop at her door. She thought some misfortune must have happened, and immediately began to think of her sons. Her relief was great when she found that this fine gentleman had only come to look at Heinrich’s useless scraps of paper.

“You shall see them, and welcome, sir,” she said; “I wish you could persuade Heinrich to turn his hand to something useful — no one will employ him for anything but pig-keeping, and even for that bis master begins to say he is too lazy.”

The Prince smiled to himself as he thought of the uncontrolled liberty the pigs seemed to enjoy under Heinrich’s care — but said nothing, and began to examine the drawings. They were sketches of every imaginable object that came under his notice: his mother, brothers, and sisters were represented in all kinds of attitudes; the old water- mill; the picturesque church porch, with groups passing in to hear mass; his companions; his dog; even his special tormentors, the pigs, had their place in this gallery of art, where the backs of the drawings had other sketches upon them — paper being far too valuable a commodity to serve only once. There were, of course, innumerable faults; but with them all a breadth and freedom, a quick- ness in catching likenesses, and power of giving its distinctive character to everything he attempted,

that to the Prince’s experienced eye evinced a very