One day when Velasquez was painting a portrait of Philip IV, the king's little daughter Margarita came into the room attended by her maids of honor and a splendid dog. The king was so delighted with the little group that he told Velasquez to make a picture of them just as they stood there before him. Now look at the picture and you will see in the looking-glass at the back of the room the reflection of the king and the queen. At the easel stands Velasquez, the artist, with his palette and brushes. The wee fair-haired princess is the center of the group. The strange-looking little women, her maids of honor, are dwarfs. And see what a magnificent fellow the dog is, lying so contentedly on the floor right in front of us. When the picture was finished, and the people went to see it, many of them asked, "Where is the picture?" The little Margarita and her maids are so alive and those people standing around seem so real that no one thought they could be painted on canvas. Velasquez made such wonderfully real likenesses that some one told this story of one: One day the King came to Velasquez's studio and seeing, as he supposed, one of his admirals whom he had sent to take a command a few days before, he spoke angrily: "What! still here? Did I not command you to depart? Why have you not obeyed?" Of course the admiral did not answer, and then the king found that he had been angry at a portrait. [Illustration: FIG. 36. THE MAIDS OF HONOR. VELASQUEZ. MADRID GALLERY, SPAIN] THE NYMPHS JEAN BAPTISTE CAMILLE COROT (1796-1875) Everybody loved Pere Corot--Papa Corot, as he was called. His happy manner and lovely smile won for him the name of the "happy one." I want you to know what Papa Corot says, in a letter to a friend, about himself and his painting. He writes: "Look you, it is charming, the day of a landscapist. He gets up at three in the morning, before sunrise, goes and sits under a tree, and watches and waits. Not much can be seen at first. Nature is behind a veil. Everything smells sweet. "Ping! a ray of yellow light shoots up. The veil is torn, and meadow and valley and hill are peeping through the rent. "Bing, bing! the sun's first ray--another ray--and the flowers awake and drink a drop of quivering dew. The leaves feel cold and move to and fro. Under the leaves unseen birds are singing softly. The flowers are saying their morning prayers. "Bam! the sun has risen. Bam! a peasant crosses the field with a cart and oxen. Ding! ding! says the bell of the ram that leads the flock of sheep. "Bam! bam! all bursts--all glitters--all is full of light, blond and caressing as yet. The flowers raise their heads. It is adorable. I paint! I paint! "Boom! boom! boom! The sun aflame burns the earth. Everything becomes heavy. Let us go home. We see too much now. Let us go home."