then, if, once this way discovered of escape from tiresome
school duties, it was travelled so often by Rosalie, and that her
school-work became in consequence so unsatisfactory that at length the
patient nuns remonstrated. They advised Rosa's father, since she
neither would nor could learn anything from books, that it would be
better to put her to some useful trade by which she might earn her
living; and the good sisters suggested--dressmaking! The wisdom of
these ladies, who could not see that they were dealing with the last
woman in the world to whom dressmaking could be interesting, was
matched by that of the father, who showed himself so blind to the
character of his daughter that he resolved to act at once upon the
advice of the nuns; and without consulting the wishes of poor Rosalie
he apprenticed her straightway to a Parisian dressmaker. The docile
girl allowed the yoke to be slipped over her head without complaint,
but the confinement wore upon her health and spirits, and after a
short trial the experiment had to be abandoned. Her father yielded to
her entreaties and took her home.

[Illustration: Rosa Bonheur.]

The girl was long in coming to a knowledge of herself. Although she
was to be, in time, a famous artist, the familiar legend of the
biographers is wanting in her case; we read nothing about scribbled
books or walls defaced by childish sketches, nor does she appear to
have handled a pencil or a brush until she was a girl well grown.
Her father's means were not sufficient to give Rosa or his other
children an education such as he could wish; but an expedient
suggested itself in his perplexity over this latest experiment in
providing for his eldest daughter: he proposed to the principal of a
young ladies' school where he taught drawing, that his services should
be accepted in payment of Rosa's education. The offer was accepted,
and in the regular course of study Rosa became a member of her
father's drawing-class. It was not long before she surpassed all her
school-fellows in that department, and found herself for the first
time in her life in possession of the key to that happiness which
consists in knowing what we can do, and feeling the strength within us
to do it. Some of the biographers of Rosa's life speak of unhappy days
at this school: the richer girls made sport of the dress of the
drawing-master's daughter, and of her independent, awkward ways. Her
progress in drawing, too, was counterbalanced b