Part 4

Even as a little boy Millet was greatly impressed by the sound of the Angelus, or bell for prayers, which was rung each morning, noon, and night. One of his earliest remembrances was of a time when the villagers bought new bells for the church, and he went with his mother and a neighbor to see them before they were hung. It seems that two of the old bells had been used to make a cannon, the third was broken, and these new bells were in the church waiting to be baptized before they could be hung in the tower. They seemed immense to the small boy, and of course they must have been larger than he. Millet tells of the delight and awe he felt when the neighbor struck the bells with the great key to the church door, which she carried in her hand.

No wonder, then, that this picture was one of Millet’s favorites, for it reminded him of his boyhood home and brought back memories of the thoughts and experiences of his childhood. Grown to manhood, and himself a peasant, he, too, had heard the Angelus sounded forth from the village church tower, and had dropped his work to bow his head in prayer. The quiet and peace of such moments had left a deep impression which he wished to share with us.

The long stretch of field suggests the industry of the peasants; the distant church and their bowed heads against the bright sky tell us of their faith.

Can you not see them on their homeward journey, the man pushing the wheelbarrow with its heavy load, while the woman carries the basket? It looks as if it would be a long, tiresome tramp across the uneven field to the village so dimly visible in the distance.

This is the time of year when the peasants’ work is hardest, for during the winter there is little farm work to do. We are told that the women spend their winter days in spinning, weaving cloth, and making clothes, while the men weave baskets, make their garden tools, and do what little work there is to do.

The very simplicity of this landscape, with its lack of details, is part of its great charm. The quiet dignity of the man and woman, standing with bowed heads, the peace and quiet of the scene, and, above all, the sound of the sweet-toned Angelus, give us a feeling of restfulness and peace.

The horizon line is high in this picture, yet the sky space is large enough to contain the heads and shoulders of our two peasants. In this way we are made to feel that although they are bound to earth and are a part of it, their thoughts soar higher. There is another life besides the one of toil and privation.

At the time Millet painted this great picture he was wretchedly poor. He sent the picture to a friend in Paris, begging him to sell it and send the money as soon as possible. It sold for less than five hundred dollars. Yet not many years ago a French collector paid one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for this same picture.

THE ANGELUS

“They stand within the field at prayer, The rustic man and maid, While silvery thro’ the amber air The angel’s song is played!

“They bow their heads in gratitude For gift of life and health; And for content—their highest good, And love—their only wealth.

“There is a closeness to the soil In both their garb and mien That tells of happiness and toil, And quiet peace serene.

“A lark above them sings and sings A song of hope and youth. Theirs is the joy of common things— The beauty of the truth!” —_Edward Wilbur Mason_

=Questions to help the pupil understand the picture.= What time of day does this picture represent? What can you see in the distance? In what direction is the woman facing? How can you tell? What have these peasants been doing? Why have they stopped their work? Why is the picture called “The Angelus”? Tell about Millet and the new bells for the church. Tell something of the life of these peasants. How did the artist Millet know so much about their life? What can you say about the composition of this picture? What was the financial condition of the artist when he painted this picture? What did he do with this painting? About how much is it worth now?

=The story of the artist.= Let us try to imagine the artist, Jean François Millet, as a young man nineteen years old on his first visit to the great city of Paris. Brought up on a farm among the lowliest of the French peasants, he had met few except those with whom he labored in the fields or those who, poorer than they, were made welcome under the ever hospitable roof of the elder Millets. These neighbors and friends were mostly sailors or farmers, who looked upon the journey to Paris as a great event, as indeed it was. For weeks the kind old grandmother had kept her spinning wheel busy, spinning and weaving the cloth for his new suit of clothes. She was the tailor who cut, stitched, and pressed them. All her savings of years had been sewed into a belt and given to him for this journey. As he stood in the doorway, waiting for the old stagecoach which presently came rattling down the stone road of the village, he must have felt anew the great sacrifices they were all so willing to make to send him where he could study his beloved art.

In Paris, Millet presented an unusual appearance—six feet in height, slender, a downy beard on his face, his brown hair hanging to his shoulders. All his belongings were neatly packed in the sailor’s canvas bag which he carried over his shoulder. Is it any wonder that many did not see the straightforward, honest, manly look of the calm gray eyes? There was in that gaze and in the rude bearing a certain quiet confidence and strength which only the home folks recognized and valued. The boy could draw, and draw well they knew, and had not the drawing master of the village told them he would surely one day become a great artist?

Tired from the three days’ ride in the old stagecoach, jostled by the hurrying crowds, for it was evening and all were on their way home, he stood confused. A policeman, catching sight of the stupid-looking youth blocking the sidewalk with his great bag, asked him where he wanted to go. Is it any wonder that he answered, “Back to Gruchy”? We are told that he even inquired when the next coach left for Gruchy, but there was none until morning.

The policeman sent him to a boarding house of moderate prices, and the next morning he started out to find the great art gallery of the Louvre. He had attempted to inquire the way at the boarding house, but the boarders laughed at his Normandy accent and strange appearance and he did not wait for the answer. And so he wandered the streets for three days, not daring to ask the way for fear of being laughed at again, until at last he stood before the great gallery, recognizing it at once by the pictures he had seen of it.

In writing of it years later, Millet says: “My feelings were too great for words, and I closed my eyes lest I be dazzled by the sight, and then dared not open them lest I should find it all a dream. And if I ever reach Paradise I know my joy will be no greater than it was that first morning when I realized that I stood within the Louvre Palace.”

In the meantime he had found a room and place to board near by. The landlady having suggested that he had better not carry much money about with him, he immediately gave her all he had to keep for him; that was the last he saw of his money.

He spent a week just visiting the Louvre, and finally became acquainted with a student who was copying one of the paintings. This student took him to the artist Delaroche, who, after looking at his sketches, gladly admitted him as a pupil.

The other students were greatly amused at Millet’s awkward appearance and called him the “man of the woods.” It was almost impossible to persuade him to talk, and his answers to all questions were in monosyllables; but if pressed too hard he could use his fists effectively. They soon found out, too, that he could paint, and paint well. All idea of going home was given up, and Millet spent twelve years in Paris, enduring poverty and hunger but working faithfully and long. When he went back to his home for a visit he was so nearly starved that he fell fainting on the ground when he tried to work in the fields.

Millet painted landscapes, portraits, and signs, but fortune never seemed to smile on him long at a time. People said his pictures did not sell because he painted such common things and such poor people instead of choosing beautiful girls or fine gentlemen for his models.

But he painted the people he knew about and loved best—the French peasants—and as their lives were full of toil, he must represent them at their labor.

Returning to Paris, and finding his life there still one of continuous struggle with poverty, Millet with his wife and children went to live at Barbizon, a small village a day’s ride from Paris. Many descriptions have been written and pictures painted of the modest white stone cottage with its clinging vines and its thrifty gardens in which he spent the rest of his life.

It was not until the last few years of his life that he ceased to be wretchedly poor, for then at last his pictures were appreciated and he received the profit and honor that were his due.

He died at Barbizon, January 20, 1875.

=Questions about the artist.= Tell about Millet’s early training and the preparations made for his journey to Paris. How did he travel? Describe his first evening in Paris. How did he find the great gallery of the Louvre? Why did he not inquire the way? What became of his money? With whom did he study, and how did this happen? What did the other students call him? Why did they do this? How many years did he stay in Paris? What was his success there? Why did his pictures not sell? Where did he finally go to live? When were his paintings appreciated?

SHEEP IN SPRING

=Questions to arouse interest.= What is there in this picture that suggests the time of year? What are the sheep doing? How many have watched sheep eat grass? Why do the shepherd and his dog stand in front of them? Of what use is the shepherd’s crook or staff? What do you see in the distance? Do you think this is a scene in our own country or in some foreign country? How are the sheep farthest away represented? Where does the light fall upon the sheep and upon the man? What kinds of lines are there in this picture? Tell some of the duties of a shepherd; of a shepherd’s dog. Why do sheep need so much care? Of what use are they? Why do you like this picture?

=Original Picture=: Metropolitan Museum, New York City. =Artist=: Anton Mauve (mōv). =Birthplace=: Zaandam, the Netherlands =Dates=: Born, 1838; died, 1888.

=The story of the picture.= The artist has taken us to his own native country, showing us the beauties of the fields in spring, and giving us much of their feeling of calm and contentment. The shepherd has led his sheep safely past the freshly plowed field which we see at the left of the picture, and now he stands in front of them so they will go more slowly and eat the grass closer. If one of the sheep should go too fast he would probably reach out with his long crook, which he would place around the sheep’s neck, and draw it back. The dog, too, would do his part to keep it where it ought to be. Sheep prefer to run ahead, taking a bit of grass here and a bit there, but when they are held back by the man and dog as in this picture, they will mow the grass as closely and thoroughly as if a lawnmower had passed over it.

As we look at the picture we find that, though few details are shown, the sheep in the first row are distinct, while the rest are merely suggested. Anton Mauve has become famous for this very thing—the omission of minor details in his pictures and the simplicity with which he thus tells his story.

We feel the warmth and vigor of this beautiful day in spring, the fresh green grass with here and there a flower to relieve the green, the soft green leaves of the young and slender trees planted on each side of the road at the right of the picture. This road probably leads direct to the farmhouse we see in the distance. The long meadow, too, seems to reach as far as that same farmhouse, and no doubt will provide pasture all summer for the sheep. Their fleecy white wool will grow long. Then will come sheep-shearing time, and the wool will be sent away to be woven into cloth.

In the picture the light falls strongly upon the backs of the sheep, on the head and shoulders of the man, and on the wooden shoes he wears.

The dog stands there expectant, ready to pursue any wayward sheep. It is wonderful how much these shepherd dogs know, and how much they help their owners. In some countries the sheep are kept out in the fields or among the hills all night. The shepherd rolls himself up in a blanket and sleeps securely near them, knowing full well that the faithful dog will remain on guard, allowing none to stray away or come to harm.

Sometimes, when the shepherd wishes to collect his flock and drive them to the fold or inclosure for the night, many of them have wandered up into the mountains to almost inaccessible heights, but the dog will find them, every one. He has a way of making the sheep understand what they are expected to do. He circles around and around them so quickly that none can escape, and he seems to have some mysterious way of counting them, for if one is missing off he goes, seldom failing to return with it.

The story is told of a shepherd who, with but one dog, was guarding seven hundred lambs. At midnight they suddenly took fright and, dividing into three sections, disappeared over the hills. The man could do nothing until daylight, but the morning found the lambs gathered in a valley and guarded by the faithful dog, from whose vigilance not one had escaped.

These intelligent shepherd dogs can be made to understand their masters’ wishes even at a great distance, for they understand and obey motions made with the hands.

Sheep are more helpless than most animals, because they cannot defend themselves against wild animals and because, having no sense of locality, they are so easily lost or led astray.

If a flock of sheep is attacked by wolves, and there are several dogs guarding the flock, very often the dogs will circle around the sheep until they have crowded them as close together as they can; then one of the dogs will continue walking around them, while the others attack and usually beat off the wolves.

Anton Mauve has painted a companion picture to this one. The two pictures hang on the same wall in the Metropolitan Museum, New York City. The companion picture is called “Sheep in Autumn,” and, as the name suggests, it represents a scene in the fall of the year.

The first picture brings to our mind visions of green meadows, newly ploughed fields, tender grass, and tiny green leaves, quickening into life and beauty with the arrival of the mild days of spring; but the second picture has a different story to tell. It is autumn now; the leaves and grass have ripened to a reddish brown, and the grain has been gathered from the field at the right of the picture.

The sheep are turned away from us here, and it is not necessary for the shepherd and his dog to hold them back. There is no young and tender grass to tempt them, and they are going home. There are many young lambs with the flock now, born since their mothers went out to pasture, and they lag behind the rest as if the journey were a long one. We can almost hear the shrill bleating of the little lambs mingled with the deeper calls of the sheep as they move along the road.

The shepherd, this time an old man in the autumn of his life, tenderly carries a little weak lamb under his arm. Perhaps after it has rested, he will take up another tired one. The dog looks older too. No doubt he has had a hard summer of it with the care of all these sheep and their lambs.

By the long shadows, Mauve has told us that it is the end of the day as well as the end of the year.

There is a strong appeal in this picture when we think of the homecoming of this little company—the tired young lambs following their mothers, the tired dog that will now have a long rest, and the kind old shepherd with the helpless lamb under his arm.

Through both these pictures Mauve has expressed the same sympathy with, and love for, nature and its many changes of season and weather. It is difficult indeed to choose one for study in preference to the other, and it is perhaps for that reason that they are usually studied together.

In our picture of the sheep in spring, with all its suggestions of growth and beauty, the grass and leaves are luxuriant, and yet the days and nights are still too cool for the sheep to be sheared. When the warm days come, the shepherd will probably drive his flock to the river or some clear stream where, in spite of strugglings to escape, their long, woolly coats will be scrubbed and cleaned. Then when the wool is thoroughly dried it will be cut off with large shears and sent to the manufactories, where it will be made into cloth for the garments we wear.

Long ago, in our great grandmother’s day, wool was carded, spun, and woven into cloth by hand. Many families still keep the old spinning wheels and hand looms which were used in those times.

=Questions to help the pupil understand the picture.= In what country was this picture painted? What time of year is represented? Why does the shepherd keep the sheep back? How can he prevent them from going too fast? How do the sheep prefer to eat the grass? What can you see at the right of the picture? What is on each side of this road? To what does it lead? Of what use are the sheep? In what ways can the dog help the shepherd? How does he keep the sheep together? Tell about the dog and the seven hundred lambs. How can a trained dog understand his master even at a distance? In what ways are sheep helpless? How can a dog protect them from wolves? What is the companion picture to this one called? How does it differ from this painting? Which one do you like best? Why? Where are the original paintings?

=The story of the artist.= Anton Mauve was born near the sea in a little village called Zaandam, the Netherlands. His father was a Protestant clergyman in this thriving little town known for its oil and paper mills and its extensive timber trade. When Anton was but a boy, the family moved to Haarlem where he grew to manhood.

His talent for drawing was soon discovered, but it did not meet with any favor at home. His father’s strong objections to his becoming an artist were finally overcome by a compromise. If Anton would promise to win a diploma as a drawing master, so that he would be sure of earning his living in case he failed as an artist, then his father would give his consent. As definite rules were laid down for teaching drawing, and these rules permitted little or no originality, Anton Mauve found his promise very hard to keep. However, he persevered. When the course was finished, he packed his grip and with little in his purse started for the village of Oosterbeek where a number of other artists lived and worked. Later he settled in Amsterdam where he worked hard, earning enough with his painting to support himself.

Mauve painted a great number of pictures, many of them in water color. He is best known by his flocks of sheep, which he represents in all seasons and in every kind of weather. Although he lived by the sea, very few of Mauve’s pictures were of the sea, for he preferred the country roads leading through green fields, with here and there a flock of sheep or herd of cattle. He seldom painted a landscape without some figure in it—a wood-cart, a man on horseback, a peasant woman, or a woodcutter were his most frequent models. The birch tree, with its graceful, silvery stem was his favorite tree.

It is said that Mauve was in the habit of making his sketches on his cuffs, and by keeping the colors in his mind he was able from these suggestions to paint the pictures which soon brought him fame and honor.

=Questions about the artist.= Who painted this picture? Where was he born? What compromise did he make with his father? Why did he find it difficult to do his part? What did he do then? What subjects might we have expected him to choose for his paintings? What subjects did he choose? Upon what did he often make his first sketches? How did he finish these pictures? What were his favorite models? What was his favorite tree?

THE SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS

=Studying the picture.= Several days before the lesson is to be taken up, the picture to be studied should be placed where every pupil can see it.

First of all, the children should find out for themselves what is in the picture. The questions accompanying the story of each picture are intended to help them to do this.

=Language work.= The pupils should be encouraged in class to talk freely and naturally. In this way the lesson becomes a language exercise in which the pupils will gain in freedom of expression and in the ability to form clear mental images.

If a lesson does not occupy the entire drawing period, the children should be asked to retell the story of the picture.

=Dramatization and drawing.= Most of the stories told by the pictures lend themselves readily to dramatization and, whenever practicable, such stories should be acted out. The stories also offer numerous interesting situations that may be used as subjects for drawing lessons.

=The review lesson.= The review lesson should cover all pictures and artists studied throughout the year. At this time other pictures available by the same artists should be on exhibition.

The review work may be conducted as a contest in which the pictures are held up, one at a time, while the class writes the name of the picture and the artist on slips of paper which have been prepared and numbered for that purpose. One teacher who used this device surprised her class by presenting those whose lists were correct with their choice of any of the large-sized Perry pictures studied.

Many teachers, however, will prefer to use this time for composition work, although the description of pictures is often given as an English lesson. Pupils may write a description of their favorite picture. In fact, the lessons can be made to correlate with history, geography, English, spelling, reading, or nature study.

In any event the real purpose of the work is that the pupils shall become so familiar with the pictures that they will recognize them as old friends whenever and wherever they may see them.

It is hoped that acquaintance with the picture and the interest awakened by its story will grow into a fuller appreciation and understanding of the artist’s work. Thus the children will have many happy hours and will learn to love the good, the true, and the beautiful in everything about them.

● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text that was bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).

End of Project Gutenberg's Stories Pictures Tell Book 6, by Flora Carpenter