e was twelve years old,
the priest of the village became interested in him and offered to
teach him Latin. Millet was only too glad to accept this offer, and
many a happy evening the two spent thus together. But his studies were
frequently interrupted by his work on the farm, for since he was the
eldest son his father depended most upon him. It was the custom in
France among the peasants to take a daily hour of rest from their
labors. But the boy Millet, instead of sleeping, spent the hour in
drawing the homely scenes around him.

One Sunday morning, coming home from church, Millet met an old man who
walked very slowly, his back bent over a cane. We have all seen just
such old men, and their feebleness has aroused our sympathy and
respect. It is not strange, then, that something about this bent
figure appealed to young Millet so strongly that he could not resist
the desire to draw a portrait of the man.

He drew the portrait on a stone wall, with a piece of charcoal, and so
well that people passing on their way home from church recognized it
at once and were very much surprised and pleased. His father, perhaps,
was the most delighted of all, for once he himself had wished to be an
artist. Now he determined that his son should have the chance.

We are sure Millet never forgot that day when the father, mother,
grandmother, and his brothers and sisters sat around the table after
dinner and talked about his wonderful picture and what they could do
to help him become a great painter. And when it was finally decided
that his father should take him to the artist (Mouchel) in the next
village, you may be sure he worked hard on the drawings he was to take
with him. At last the day came for the journey, and the proud father
and his happy son set out on foot for the home of the artist.

When shown the drawings Mouchel at first refused to believe the boy
had made them, they were so good. Finally convinced, he was glad
indeed to take Millet as one of his pupils. But Millet studied with
him only two months when his father died and he was obliged to return
home to take his father's place on the farm as best he could.

By this time the people of the village had become so much interested
in his paintings that they decided to help him. So they raised a large
sum of money, sent him back to the artist to study, and finally sent
him to the great city of Paris, France. But although he painted
wonderful pictures which are worth thousands