Chapter 2

It was about this time, too, that he painted an old white horse in the stable of another wealthy man. After the picture was finished and ready to deliver, it suddenly disappeared. A diligent search was made for it, but it was not found until twenty-four years afterwards. A servant had stolen it and hidden it in a hayloft. He had been afraid to sell it or even to keep it in his home, for no one would have failed to recognize the great artist's work.

For many years Landseer lived and painted in his father's house in a poor little room without even a carpet. The only furniture, we are told, were three cheap chairs and an easel. Later he had a fine studio not far from Regent's Park. Here was a small house with a garden and a barn. The barn was made over into a studio. Here so many people brought their pets for him to paint that he had to keep a list, and each was obliged to wait his turn. But Sir Edwin was not a very good business man, so he left all his affairs to his father, who sold his pictures for him and kept his accounts.

Landseer made a special study of lions, too. A lion died at the park menagerie and he dissected its body and studied and drew every part. He painted many pictures of lions. He also modeled the great lions at the base of the Nelson Monument in Trafalgar Square, London.

Although Landseer painted so many wild animals, birds, and hunting scenes, he did not care to shoot animals. His weapons were his pencil and sketch book. Sometimes he hired guides to take him into the wildest parts of the country in search of game. But he quite disgusted the guides when, a great deer bounding toward him, he would merely make a sketch of it in his book.

Many of Landseer's paintings are of scenes in Scotland, as is this one, "Highland Shepherd's Chief Mourner." When Sir Edwin Landseer went to visit Scotland one of his fellow travelers was Sir Walter Scott, the great novelist. The two became close friends. Sir Walter Scott tells us: "Landseer's dogs were the most magnificent things I ever saw, leaping and bounding and grinning all over the canvas." Landseer painted Sir Walter Scott's dog "Maida Vale" many times, and he named his studio for the dog.

At twenty-four Landseer became an associate of the Royal Academy, which was an unusual honor for so young a man.

In 1850 the honor of knighthood was conferred upon him.

This story is told of him at a social gathering in the home of a well-known leader of society in London. The company had been talking about skill with the hands, when some one remarked that no one had ever been found who could draw two things at once. "Oh, I can do that," said Landseer; "lend me two pencils and I will show you." Quickly he drew the head of a horse with one hand while with the other he drew a stag's head and antlers. Both sketches were so good that they might well have been drawn with the same hand and with much more study.

Sir Edwin Landseer felt that animals understand, feel, and reason just like people, so he painted them as happy, sad, gay, dignified, frivolous, rich, poor, and in all ways just like human beings. This appealed to the people, and he became very popular.

Sir Edwin did and said all he could against the custom of "cropping" the ears of dogs. He said that nature intended to protect the ears of dogs that "dig in the dirt," and man should not interfere. People paid attention to what he said, and the custom lost favor.

Landseer died in London in 1873 at the age of seventy-one. A tablet placed to his memory in the notch of one of the windows at Westminster Abbey has a medallion portrait of him at the top, and below this, carved in light relief, is a copy of one of his most famous paintings, "The Highland Shepherd's Chief Mourner."

=Questions about the artist.= Tell about Sir Edwin Landseer's father. What did he do? Why were engravers not allowed to exhibit their work? What did Edwin's father do to defend his art? What did Edwin's brother, Thomas, accomplish? Why are we so indebted to him? Who taught Edwin how to draw? Tell about his brothers and their walks in the fields. What animal did Edwin draw first? Where was "Edwin's studio"? Which two of his pictures were exhibited when he was only thirteen years old? What became of the sketches he made when he was a boy? Tell about his two studios. Tell about his picture of the old white horse. With whom did Sir Edwin Landseer travel through Scotland? What did Sir Walter Scott say about Landseer's dogs? How did Landseer happen to name his studio "Maida Vale"? What weapons did Sir Edwin use when he hunted? Why did he not shoot the animals? Tell about his drawing with both hands. In what ways are animals like people according to Landseer's judgment?

CHILDREN OF THE SHELL

=Questions to arouse interest.= Where do these children seem to be? Which of the two children seems to be the older? What is the boy at the right doing? From what is he drinking? Why do you think the boy at the left has given him a drink? How is he helping him now? What does the boy who is drinking hold in his left hand? How is he standing? What is the lamb doing? Who else seems to be watching them? Why do you think the picture is called "Children of the Shell"? Do you like this picture? why?

=Original Picture:= Prado Gallery, Madrid, Spain. =Artist:= Bartolomé Esteban Murillo (m[=oo] r[=e]l´´y[=o]). =Birthplace:= Seville, Spain. =Dates:= Born, 1618; died, 1682.

=The story of the picture.= The great religious painter, Murillo, has given us many pictures of the Christ child and John the Baptist, but perhaps none more pleasing than this one which critics have so often declared the most beautiful picture of children ever painted.

We must go back in our Bible history to the time when the wicked King Herod reigned over Judea, for it was then that our story begins. This proud king had conquered all his enemies and expected to live at ease in his rich and beautiful palace, surrounded by all that would give him comfort and pleasure. But one day he was made very unhappy when a messenger appeared bringing him most unwelcome news. It was that a child had been born in Bethlehem at just the time and place it had been prophesied that a child should be born who would one day be king over all the world. In a manger of a stable, true to the prophecy, the baby Jesus was born. The three wise men of the East and many others who already worshiped him as king sought and found him there. The thought that the child would grow up to rule over his kingdom alarmed King Herod, and he resolved to remove this possible rival before it was too late. Fearful lest the child should escape, Herod sent out a terrible decree that all boy babies under two years of age should be killed. That must have been a dreadful day, for there was little hope of escape or concealment.

However, Mary and Joseph had been warned by an angel several days before, and with the child Jesus they were already safe on their way to Egypt. They had left in the night, and no one could tell anything about them, or where to look for them. Several years later King Herod died, and almost immediately Mary, Joseph, and the boy Jesus started on the homeward journey. It was during this journey, we are told, that the boy, running on ahead of the donkey Mary was riding, found a cool little spring where he could quench his thirst. Suddenly there appeared another boy wearing a camel's-hair cloak and carrying a wooden stick with a cross carved upon it. He was followed by a lamb. It was John the Baptist, who, although only a child, was living among the hills, eating locusts and wild honey, preparing for the great work he was to do. It is supposed that as the mothers of these two boys often visited each other, the children must have met before. In the picture we see them standing near the cool little spring. Jesus has in his hand a shell which, straightway forgetting his own thirst, he has filled and now offers to his cousin John.

John the Baptist is bending over to drink from the shell which Jesus holds for him. The lamb watches them contentedly, while from the sky above the angels, with clasped hands and smiling faces, look down in silent adoration. Although he does not look at them, Jesus seems conscious of their presence, for he points toward them with his little hand. Light radiates from the clouds and the angels, while deep shadows at the left and the right serve to heighten the effectiveness of the central part of the picture. The lamb, as the symbol of innocence, is the natural playmate of these two healthy, sturdy boys. The little John drinks eagerly, as if he were indeed thirsty and weary, while Jesus, although younger in years, has the kind and thoughtful look of an elder brother caring for a younger.

At this moment they seem to be merely two thirsty boys, little knowing the great work before them or thinking of anything but to quench their thirst. Yet some of the coming greatness shows itself in the generous action of the child Jesus and the gentle acceptance of John the Baptist.

=Questions to help the pupil understand the picture.= Whom does this picture represent? For what kind of paintings is Murillo famous? what subjects? Tell about King Herod. Why was he worried when he heard of the birth of Jesus? What did he do in order to be sure the child would be killed? What did the parents of the baby Jesus do? When was it safe for the boy Jesus to return? How did he happen to meet John at the spring? How was John dressed? What followed him? For what does the lamb stand? Who has the shell? What does he do with it? Why do you suppose he did not drink first? To whom does Jesus point or beckon with his left hand? Which boy was the younger? For what is this picture famous?

=The story of the artist.= A little Spanish boy, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, born into the home of a poor mechanic, and with no opportunities save those of his own making, grew to be one of the greatest of Spanish painters. Both his parents died before he was eleven years old, and he seems to have been left quite to his own devices. Until that time he had attended school, where his ability to draw had shown itself in pictures drawn on the walls of the school building.

After school and on Saturdays he had assisted an artist, doing such work as cleaning brushes, grinding paints, and running errands. An uncle had secured this position for him, but seemed to be unable to help him further. By these means and by painting banners and pictures for the weekly market, the boy earned his own living. The peasants came to Seville from all the country around, bringing in their fruits, vegetables, and wares to sell. Here the young Murillo took his paintings, which were on coarse, cheap cloth instead of on canvas, which he could not afford. Sometimes it was a Madonna, sometimes a portrait of the buyer which he would finish quickly while the crowd watched, or sometimes one of the beggar boys in the gypsy quarters of the city.

But Murillo had a boy friend who went to London to study with the great Sir Anthony Van Dyck, and who, when he returned, brought such news of the wonderful paintings in the galleries of London and Paris that Murillo began to dream of seeing them. Before he had saved enough money to go, however, the artist Van Dyck died, and Murillo decided to go to Madrid, where one of his own countrymen, Velásquez, had won great fame. He walked nearly all the way, presenting his letter of introduction to Velásquez, who received him most kindly.

Murillo was now twenty-four years old, enthusiastic, ambitious, and manly. Velásquez soon discovered his great talent, and not only received him as a pupil but took him into his own home, where he remained three years. When, at the end of that time, he returned to Seville, his fame as an artist was established and pupils came to him from all over the country. His friends could be found among the very poorest beggars as well as among the most influential men of the city, and he was idolized by his pupils. Always of a deeply religious nature, he chose religious subjects for most of his paintings. In his studio all swearing and ill conduct were forbidden, and his religious paintings were produced only after much prayerful meditation.

He gave so generously to the poor about him that it was said he gave away all he earned.

Often his wife, who was very beautiful, his lovely daughter, or his two handsome sons posed for his paintings, and so we find the same faces repeated in several pictures.

One day when Murillo was painting on the walls of a convent the cook there asked him to paint a small picture for him on a napkin, which was all he had to offer for a canvas. Without hesitation Murillo painted a beautiful Madonna and Child which has since become famous as the "Virgin of the Napkin."

While painting the ceiling in a church in Cadiz the scaffolding broke and he fell, injuring himself so seriously that he died shortly after.

Every Sunday afternoon, which is a free day at the gallery in Madrid, crowds of the poor, men, women, and children, may be seen gathered around the paintings by Murillo, which they regard with an admiration which is almost worship. To them Murillo is little less than a saint.

=Questions about the artist.= In what country did Murillo live? What nationality do his pictures represent? Tell about his boyhood. In what did he excel at school? What work did he do after school and on Saturdays? What else did Murillo do to earn money? Tell about the weekly market. What did Murillo paint for the market? Whom did he paint? What did his boy friend tell him that made him want to go to London? Why did he not go? What happened before he had saved enough money to go? To whom did he go then? How did he go? How old was he by that time? What did the artist Velásquez do for him? What kind of people were Murillo's friends? What kind of pictures did he like to paint best? How did he prepare for this? What rules did he have in his studio? Tell about the cook at the convent and the napkin. What is this picture called? How was Murillo hurt? How do some of the Spanish people regard Murillo?

SAVED

=Questions to arouse interest.= What has happened? Where are the dog and the child? Why do you think it could not have been a shipwreck? Why are the sea gulls flying around? What can you see in the distance? What kind of a beach is it?

=Artist:= Sir Edwin Landseer (l[)a]nd´´s[=e]r). =Birthplace:= London, England. =Dates:= Born, 1802; died, 1873.

=The story of the picture.= This fine Newfoundland dog has just saved the life of a little child. We can see even in this print of the picture that they are both dripping wet, and so we know the child must have fallen into the water and was about to drown when the dog swam out and brought her safely to the shore.

We can only guess how the accident occurred. It could not have been a shipwreck, for then there would be others for the good old dog to save; besides, although the sky is partly cloudy, there is no evidence of a storm, and we see sailboats in the distance.

The child evidently had not been wading out into the water and gone beyond her depth, because she has on her shoes and stockings and is dressed for a day in the warm sunshine, perhaps out on the beach. Probably she had been playing on the wharf or on the rocky shore and had reached out too far or had slipped on a rock.

The dog, hearing her cry, must have immediately plunged into the water after her. Then holding the child firmly by her dress, he had battled against the waves until he reached a sandy beach from which he had dragged himself to this place.

Although we cannot see the parents, nurse, or playmates, no doubt they are running toward the child and the dog. The dog seems to be watching their approach as he lies there exhausted, guarding the precious burden lying across his paws. His great tongue hangs out and we can almost hear him pant as he gasps for breath after his fierce struggle against the waves.

The child is still unconscious, her large shade hat held by a rubber band under her chin; her arm lies limp and lifeless, yet we are sure the great dog has been in time, and she will soon open her eyes. The sea gulls circle about the two as if they were glad of the rescue, and were trying to show the parents where to find the child.

These powerful Newfoundland dogs are strong swimmers. At the first cry of alarm they usually plunge unbidden into the water, and rarely fail to accomplish a rescue. In France they are kept on the banks of the Seine as important members of the life-saving crew. Here they are carefully trained for this purpose by their masters, who throw a stuffed figure of a man into the water and teach the dogs to bring it back to shore. They are taught always to hold the head of the figure above the water. They seem to understand perfectly just what is wanted of them and why.

A story is told, and it is claimed to be true, of a woman who, while washing clothes on the bank of a river, placed her baby in the clothes basket to keep it safe. In some way the child tipped the basket, rolling out of it and down the bank into the deep water below. The woman screamed but she was helpless. Hearing her cry, a large Newfoundland dog that she had never seen before came swimming down the stream and saved the child, carrying it to the opposite shore.

The woman ran down the bank of the river and secured the help of a ferryman and his grandson, a boy about ten years old. When the boat reached the opposite shore the big dog was licking the hands and face of the cooing child, but growled and barked viciously at the people who were approaching him. No one dared go near him. They tried every device, but no, he could not be coaxed away from the baby.

At last the boy said he had an idea, and off he ran down the bank and jumped into the boat. Rowing out some distance into the river, he suddenly jumped from the boat into the water, uttering a loud cry of distress. He struggled a while, and then to all appearances sank out of sight. The grandfather knew the boy could swim and dive, and yet the suddenness with which he sank alarmed him greatly, and he called out, too.

Immediately the great dog recognized the cry of alarm and, forgetting all else, left his small charge and rushed to the help of the larger one, bringing the boy safely to the shore. Meanwhile, of course, the mother had taken up the baby. The dog, though showing surprise at the quick recovery of the boy he supposed to be nearly drowned, still determined to guard him in the same way he had guarded the baby.

About this time, however, the dog's owner, a huntsman, appeared. The dog greeted him joyously, running from the child to the boy and then to his master as if to tell him what he had done and how he had guarded them until his master came.

Many times it has been told of a Newfoundland that, when annoyed by some small dog that persisted in barking and snapping at him, he would finally seize it by the back of the neck, carry it to the river, and drop it into the water. After watching the struggles of the little dog, which seldom was able to swim, the Newfoundland would plunge in and rescue him. After that you may be sure the little dog took care not to annoy the big one.

A humorous incident is told of two boatmen who, on a wager, started to swim across a stream. When one of the men was in midstream his Newfoundland dog plunged in after him and in spite of his struggles brought him back to the shore by his hair. The crowd which had been watching was greatly amused, but the chagrined sailor was able to laugh in turn when the great animal, mistaking the emotion of the onlookers, brought the other man back also.

A lady who owned a fine Newfoundland dog allowed him one day to carry her parasol. When they came to a baker's shop she bought a bun for him. The next day the dog met another lady coming down the street carrying a parasol. He immediately seized it and ran on ahead until he came to the baker's shop. The lady went in and asked the baker to help her secure her parasol. He suggested that she give the dog a bun as his mistress had done. Then the dog gave up the parasol willingly. He had to be punished very severely before he could be broken of this habit.

Cases have been known of these dogs rescuing even so delicate a thing as a canary bird that had fallen into the water.

Intelligent and faithful, perhaps there is no other dog, unless it be the St. Bernard, which rescues travelers in the snow-covered Alps, that has done so much for man or has saved so many lives.

These dogs show remarkable kindness not only toward man but toward other animals. When another dog has been injured they have been known to carry bones and other food to it.

A Newfoundland was once taken to a dog pound with numerous other dogs. He soon gnawed his rope in two and was about to escape when, hearing the piteous cries of the other dogs, he went from one to another, setting them all free.

Even abuse will not make these loyal animals turn against a master, although they have been known to run away from a cruel one. A story is told of a man who, while rowing a boat, pushed his Newfoundland dog into the stream. The dog followed the boat for some time but, growing tired at last, tried to get back into the boat. The man pushed him away several times, finally pushing so hard that he overturned the boat and was about to drown. The good dog, however, caught hold of his coat and held him above water until help came.

In the island of Newfoundland these dogs are used much as we use horses, and are very valuable. With them duty is first. We often hear of one of these dogs carrying a basket of meat, a paper, or some other thing for his owner, and bearing any amount of annoyance from other dogs until he has delivered his charge safely; then he promptly goes back and punishes the offenders in such a way that they dare not interfere with him again.

These dogs are noble animals indeed. Their lives are devoted to man, though their devotion is not always appreciated as it should be.

Lord Byron writes:

"In life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend; Whose honest heart is still his master's own; Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone. The rich man's guardian, and the poor man's friend."

No wonder Sir Edwin Landseer loved to paint these noble animals. Their intelligent look and, better still, their brave and noble deeds render them almost human, lacking only the power of speech. It seems sometimes as if they really do talk, and the owners of such dogs declare that their actions prove that the dogs understand every word said to them.

Sir Edwin Landseer has painted another picture of a Newfoundland dog, called "A Member of the Royal Humane Society," which looks so much like this one that it might be the same dog.