Our Boys and Girls.
STOKY OF A FAMOUS PAINTER.
IN TWO CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER 11.
As the months went by young Sebastian grew more and more weary of his bondage. True,Jit. wasjof a mild type. His duties were to keep the studio clean and tidy, and to attend to all the little odd services required by the Signor Murillo and his pupils during the painiing lessons. Still it svas bondage. He, whose soul burned to portray on canvas the conceptions of his brain, must never become a painter, fob he was a slave born. What right had he to dream of becoming an artist ?” “ And yet I could paint !” he said over and ever again in bitter soliloquy. “ I will !” he added deliberately one evening when he had finished putting the studio in order as usual. It was nightfall, and with lighted lamp in hand, he was giving a last look round to see that all was right, when his eye rested upon a spoiled canvas.
*' Surely it would not be wrong, ” he reasoned, “ to use what they throw away; besides, I’ll not rob my master of any of his time. I’ll rise two hours earlier.”

“ Next morning he was up at daybreak and seated before the discarded picture. Dipping his brush in the oil, he first of all washed out those parts that most offended him ; then taking up a pallette tremblingly, he began to paint.
