Stories with a Vengeance — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE STORY OF JACK THE PAINTER. . 7 dans son pays—to his own country. The truth is that this very wild Jack Halstead had completely demoralized M. Cous- coussou’s studio and turned the heads of half the pupils upside down. Jack was not slow in following the advice tendered to him ; at least, he took half M. Couscoussou’s counsel. He did not return to England ; but he hired a spacious studio in the Rue St. Andrédes Arts, furnished it sumptuously with tapestry, armour, majolica ware, carved oak furniture, and other mediszval bric-a- brac, and set to work in right earnest to paint a picture of Richelieu dancing his famous saraband before Anne of Austria. He spent many hundreds of francs on cos- tumes and models for this painting ; but he was unable to finish it in time for the Ex- hibition of the Salon: and ultimately Richelieu dancing his saraband was sold to a dealer in the Rue Drouot for twelve hundred francs. The fact was that Jack wanted the money very badly. He had contrived in less than two years to muddle away the whole of his capital. Much of his money he had spent in sheer wasteful extravagance. Much more had been lent to fair-weather friends, in whose scheme of ethics the return of money borrowed was not comprised. One specious acquaintance had beguiled him into a Bourse speculation, the outcome of which was a loss of three thou- sand francs. Another had inveigled him into embarking ten thousand francs in working a patent for manufacturing indigo on new and improved principles, and which could be sold for half the price com. manded by the ordinary indigo of com. merce. The basis of the process was that genuine indigo was to be purchased and “chemically treated;” and the results of six months’ experiments were that Jack’s specious acquaintance ran away to Cali. fornia, au his partner the possessor of a Leyden battery and sundry vats full of sky-blue mud, commercially valueless, together with two quarters’ rent of the factory to pay, and sundry acceptances to take up. The integrity of Jack was always beyond suspicion, He had two or three hundred pounds left out of his patrimonial five thousand; and after satisfying all claims upon him arising from that disas- trous transaction in indigo, he sold up all the sumptuous rattletraps in his studio, and arrived in England with about a hun- dred and fifty pounds in his pocket. The sum m question remained only~a very short space of time in its resting. place. The artist, on his return, was eeted by troops of friends; but in the rst instance the improvident painter com- mitted an act of pradenco—thie first, he was he had anxiously awaited the time when he should be twenty-one, to enjoy his small fortune and fix himself for awhile in Paris, with a view both to improve himself in the practice of his art and to revel in.all the pleasures of the gay capital. Nothing could dissuade him from his intent; so his guardian punctually paid him over the money to which he was entitled, and bade him rather a frigid farewell. ‘ He’s not a bad young fellow,” grumbled the copper- founder, as Young Hopeful left his office the bearer of a cheque payable to order; ‘‘but I’m very much mistaken if before eighteen months are out he does not make his appearance in the Court of Bank. ruptcy. The apprehensions of the shrewd man of business fortunately fell short of realiza. tion; still, it must be confessed that Jack did his very best to verify them. He made, to use the vulgar saying, “ducks and drakes” of his small but snug peculium. He was at least fifteen hundred pounds in debt to tailors, jewellers, and Jew money- lenders. He was more legitimately indebted _ for considerable amounts to his colourmen and his framemakers. As to prudently investing what remained to him when the harpies Sad been appeased and the legiti- mate creditors satisfied, the thought of taking such a step never occurred to him. There was so much money for him to spend, and he meant to spend it. So after royally entertaining successive batches of friends at Greenwich, Richmond, Hampton Court, Windsor, and Brighton, Jack Halstead be- took himself to Paris, entered himself as a pupil in the atelier of M. Hyppolite Cous- coussou, a genre painter of renown, and sct to work with a will to improve his capacity and to waste his substance. In both enter- prises he succeeded to admiration; and in a short space of time he became, for hard work and riotous living, one of the cele- brities of the Quartier des Beaux Arts. All the young rapins swore by the handsome Englishman, and were only too glad to partake of the joyous breakfasts and dinners which he gave at the Moulin Rouge and the Restaurant Voltaire, to say nothing of picnics as joyous at Ecouen, Fontenay-aux- Roses, and Fontainebleau. Jack Halstead painted, etched, smoked, drank, played bil- liards, cards, and the deuce generally, to so very lively a tune that at the expiration of twelve months his instructor, M. Hyppolite Couscoussou, gently hinted to the hand- some Englishman that he thought he had taught him by this time about as much as he was capable of acquiring, and that, on the whole, it might be as well if he set up a studio for himself, or, better still, retired Google CY, JOO S CO)