ore tangible; they
induced the Government Director of Fine Arts to order from Jean Francois
Millet a picture for which the artist was to receive two thousand francs;
two hundred francs were paid on account and the balance was to be paid on
delivery of the picture.

Jean Francois hurried home with the order in his trembling fingers.
Catherine read the order with misty eyes. She was not unduly elated--she
knew that success must come some time. And husband and wife then and
there decided that when the eighteen hundred francs were paid over to
them they would move out of Paris.

They would make a home in the country. People do without things in the
country, but they do not starve. You can raise vegetables, and even
though the garden be small and the folks poor, God is good and the
sunshine and showers come and things grow. And for fuel one can gather
fagots if they are near a wood.

They would go to Barbizon--Barbizon, that tiny village on the edge of the
Forest of Fontainebleau. Several artists who had been there in the Summer
sketching had told them of it. The city was gradually smothering Jean
Francois. He prayed for a sight of the great open stretches of pasture,
and green woods and winding river.

And now it was all so near.

He set to work feverishly to paint the great picture that was to bring
deliverance.

At last the picture was done and sent to the Director's.

Days of anxious waiting followed.

The picture was accepted and paid for.

Jean Francois and Catherine cried and laughed for joy, as they tumbled
their belongings into bags and bundles. The grocer who had trusted them
took some of their furniture for pay, and a baker and a shoemaker
compromised by accepting a picture apiece. They were going to
Barbizon--going to the country--going to freedom! And so the father and
the mother and the queer-looking, yellow children were perched on the top
of the diligence with their bundles, bound for Barbizon. They looked into
each other's faces and their joy was too great for speech.

* * * * *

Living at the village of Barbizon, or near it, were Theodore Rousseau,
Hughes Martin, Louis LeRoy and Clerge.

These men were artists, and their peasant neighbors recognized them as
separate and apart from themselves. They were Summer boarders. But Millet
was a peasant in thought and feeling and sympathy, and mingled with the
people on an absolute equality. He was peasant--and more than