him, I can walk up and down, and it will be exercise for me,
which, you know, Dr Fanchet has desired me to take. Go along in, and
don't let the dinner be spoiled.' And the old man went on his way with
an almost elastic step. Once more was he young, gay, happy. Was he not
soon to see the friend dearer to him than all the world? But his
eagerness had made him anticipate by two hours the usual time for the
arrival of the diligence, and he was not made aware of his
miscalculation till after he had been a good while pacing up and down
the suburb leading to the Flanders-gate. The constant companion alike
of his studio and his exile, his pipe, he had left behind him,
forgotten in his hurry; so that he had no resource but to continue his
solitary walk, the current of his happy thoughts flowing on,
meanwhile, uninterrupted, save by an occasional greeting from
labourers going to their work, or the countrywomen hastening, as much
as their Flemish _embonpoint_ would allow, to the city markets. When
sauntering about alone, especially when waiting, we, like children,
make the most of everything that can while away the time, or give even
the semblance of being occupied: a flower-pot in a window, a parrot in
a cage, nay, even an insect flying past, is an absolute gain to us.
David felt it quite a fortunate chance when he suddenly caught sight
of a sign-painter carrying on his work in the open air. Though
evidently more of a whitewasher than a painter, yet, from the top of
his ladder, he was flourishing his brush in a masterly style, and at
times pausing and contemplating his work with as much complacency as
Gros could have done his wonderful cupola of Sainte-Genevieve.

The painter of Napoleon passed the self-satisfied dauber twice, not
without some admiring glances at the way in which he was plastering
the background of his landscape with indigo, by way of making a sky.
At top of the sign, now nearly finished, was traced, in large
characters, 'Break of Day;' a precaution as indispensable to point out
the artist's design, as the inscription, 'Dutch and Flemish Beer,' was
to announce the articles dealt in by the owner of the house upon which
this masterpiece was to figure.

'Here's a pretty fellow!' said the artist to himself; 'with as much
knowledge of perspective as a carthorse; and yet, I doubt not,
thinking himself a second Rubens. He brushes away as if he were
polishing a pair of boots. And what matter? Why should he not enjoy
hi