He lodged parsimoniously at the top of a tall house near the
Observatory, in a bare room, principally furnished with his own trunks
and papered with his own despicable studies. No man has less taste for
disagreeable duties than myself; perhaps there is only one subject on
which I cannot flatter a man without a blush; but upon that, upon all
that touches art, my sincerity is Roman. Once and twice I made the
circuit of his walls in silence, spying in every corner for some spark
of merit; he, meanwhile, following close at my heels, reading the
verdict in my face with furtive glances, presenting some fresh study for
my inspection with undisguised anxiety, and (after it had been silently
weighed in the balances and found wanting) whisking it away with an open
gesture of despair. By the time the second round was completed, we were
both extremely depressed.
“O!” he groaned, breaking the long silence, “it's quite unnecessary you
should speak!”
“Do you want me to be frank with you? I think you are wasting time,”
said I.
“You don't see any promise?” he inquired, beguiled by some return of
hope, and turning upon me the embarrassing brightness of his eye. “Not
in this still-life here, of the melon? One fellow thought it good.”
It was the least I could do to give the melon a more particular
examination; which, when I had done, I could but shake my head. “I am
truly sorry, Pinkerton,” said I, “but I can't advise you to persevere.”
He seemed to recover his fortitude at the moment, rebounding from
disappointment like a man of india-rubber. “Well,” said he stoutly, “I
don't know that I'm surprised. But I'll go on with the course; and throw
my whole soul into it, too. You mustn't think the time is lost. It's all
culture; it will help me to extend my relations when I get back home;
it may fit me for a position on one of the illustrateds; and then I can
always turn dealer,” he said, uttering the monstrous proposition,
which was enough to shake the Latin Quarter to the dust, with entire
simplicity. “It's all experience, besides;” he continued, “and it seems
to me there's a tendency to underrate experience, both as net profit and
investment. Never mind. That's done with. But it took courage for you
to say what you did, and I'll never forget it. Here's my hand, Mr. Dodd.
I'm not your equal in culture or talent--”
“You know nothing about that,” I interrupted. “I have seen your work,
but you haven't seen mine.
“No more I have,” he cried; “and let's go see it at once! But I know you
are away up. I can feel it here.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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