"Yes, sir; three days. And it is said that he spent five in finishing one hand in a lady's portrait. You see how very bright and minute everything is in this picture. His unfinished works were kept carefully covered, and his painting materials were put away in airtight boxes as soon as he had finished using them for the day. According to all accounts, the studio itself must have been as close as a band-box. The artist always entered it on tiptoe, besides sitting still, before he commenced work, until the slight dust caused by his entrance had settled. I have read somewhere that his paintings are improved by being viewed through a magnifying glass. He strained his eyes so badly with this extra finishing, that he was forced to wear spectacles before he was thirty. At forty he could scarcely see to paint, and he couldn't find a pair of glasses anywhere that would help his sight. At last, a poor old German woman asked him to try hers. They suited him exactly, and enabled him to go on painting as well as ever." "Humph!" exclaimed Ludwig, indignantly, "that was high! What did _she_ do without them, I wonder?" "Oh," said Peter, laughing, "likely she had another pair. At any rate she insisted upon his taking them. He was so grateful that he painted a picture of the spectacles for her, case and all, and she sold it to a burgomaster for a yearly allowance that made her comfortable for the rest of her days." "Boys!" called Lambert, in a loud whisper, "come look at this Bear Hunt." It was a fine painting by Paul Potter, a Dutch artist of the seventeenth century, who produced excellent works before he was sixteen years old. The boys admired it because the subject pleased them. They passed carelessly by the masterpieces of Rembrandt and Van der Helst, and went into raptures over an ugly picture by Van der Venne, representing a sea-fight between the Dutch and English. They also stood spellbound before a painting of two little urchins, one of whom was taking soup and the other eating an egg. The principal merit in this work was that the young egg-eater had kindly slobbered his face with the yolk for their entertainment. An excellent representation of the "Feast of Saint Nicholas" next had the honor of attracting them. "Look, Van Mounen," said Ben to Lambert, "could anything be better than this youngster's face? He looks as if he _knows_ he deserves a whipping but hopes Saint Nicholas may not have found him out. That's the kind of painting _I_ like; something that tells a story." "Come, boys!" cried the captain, "ten o'clock, time we were off!" They hastened to the canal. "Skates on! Are you ready? ONE, TWO--hollo! where's Poot?" Sure enough where _was_ Poot? A square opening had just been cut in the ice not ten yards off. Peter observed it, and without a word skated rapidly toward it. All the others followed, of course. Peter looked in. They all looked in; then stared anxiously at each other.