cious enjoyment do the little vagabonds poise above their open
mouths a cluster of purple grapes or a slice of rich melon! Their ragged
garments scarcely suffice to cover them; their arms and legs are bare;
their abundant dark curls have known no combing, and they are
undeniably dirty. And yet they are perfectly charming. The rich tints of
their sunburned skin; the dark liquid eyes of the Spanish race; the
beautiful curves of their plump necks and shoulders; the free grace of
their attitudes,--all combine to make them picturesque and attractive.

The dirt is rendered with an unsparing realism which, in a few
instances, is carried beyond the limits of good taste. Such is the case
with El Piojoso of the Louvre, which represents a little beggar removing
vermin from his body, and which Mr. Ruskin has severely denounced.
Another picture in Munich, and one at St. Petersburg, belong to the same
class; but these may be considered exceptions to the rule. The general
statement holds true, that the real _motif_ of Murillo's beggar-boy
pictures is the simple, natural enjoyment which may render attractive,
and even beautiful, the most unlovely surroundings.

The artist shows a fine insight into human nature in his appreciation of
the companionship between the street boy and the small dog. The famous
Beggar-boy of the Hermitage Gallery at St. Petersburg is a capital
example. The boy, standing by a wall, with a basket of fruit in his
hand, turns to smile at his dog, with a perfect expression of good
comradeship. In several other paintings, where the boys are eating, a
little dog stands by, watching the tempting morsels enviously, with the
hope of getting a share in due time.

England is especially rich in examples of Murillo's street scenes.
Besides the well-known picture in the National Gallery, there are three
fine works at Dulwich College,[15] and many others scattered through the
galleries of private collectors. This fact may be the reason that
Murillo was first popularly known in England for this class of
subjects, rather than for his religious art.

One of Murillo's most ardent admirers among modern English artists is
Mrs. Henry M. Stanley, first known in the art world as Dorothy Tennant.
She gayly avers that the most interesting object to her, when as a small
girl she was taken for her daily walk, was "some dear little child in
tatters." The small young lady's interest in street children was
something more than philanthropic