Life of James McNeill Whistler, . logne to Paris with paper and pencilsfor baggage. °*^ Whistler used to say that, had they been less young, they could haveseen only the terror of that tramp. A portrait was the price of everyplate of soup, every eggy every glass of milk on the road. The childrenwho hooted them had to be drawn before a bit of bread was given to slept in straw. And they walked until Whistlers light shoesgot rid of most of their soles and bits of their uppers, and Ernestshollands grew seedier and seedier. But they were young enough tolaugh, and one day Whistler, seeing
Life of James McNeill Whistler, . logne to Paris with paper and pencilsfor baggage. °*^ Whistler used to say that, had they been less young, they could haveseen only the terror of that tramp. A portrait was the price of everyplate of soup, every eggy every glass of milk on the road. The childrenwho hooted them had to be drawn before a bit of bread was given to slept in straw. And they walked until Whistlers light shoesgot rid of most of their soles and bits of their uppers, and Ernestshollands grew seedier and seedier. But they were young enough tolaugh, and one day Whistler, seeing Ernest tramping ahead solemnlythrough the mud, the rain dripping from his straw hat, his linen coata rag, shrieked with laughter as he limped. Que voulez-vous ? Ernest said mournfully, les saisons mont toujours devance ! Butit was the time of the autumn fairs, and, joining a lady who playedthe violin and a gentleman who played the harp, they gave enter-tainments in every village, beating a big drum, announcing themselves44 [1858. PORTRAIT OF WHISTLER IN THE BIG HAT OIL In the possession of Charles L. Freer, Esq. [Seepage 52) Student Days in the Latin Quarter is distinguished artists from Paris, ofTerirg to draw portraits, fiverancs the full length, three francs the half-length. At times they beathe big drum in vain, and Whistler was reduced to charging five sousipiece for his portraits, but he did his best, he said, and there was not adrawing to be ashamed of. At last they came to Aix, where there was an American Consul?vho knew Major Whistler, and advanced fifty francs to his son. AtLi^ge, poor, shivering, ragged Ernest got twenty from the FrenchConsul, and the rest of the journey was made in comfort. On hisreturn, Whistlers first appearance at the Cafe Moliere was a had thought him dead, and here he was, le petit Americain!And what blague, what calling for coffee pour le -petit Whistler, pournotre petit Atnericain ! And what songs ! 11 Car il nest pas mort, lari
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpubl, booksubjectamericanart
