Brown himself, far from perishing, is even
now terribly alive. There is something fearful in the inspiration which
can inspire songs like this.

* * * * *

'GALLI VAN T' is welcome, and will be 'welcomer' when he again visits us
in another letter like _this_:

DEAR CONTINENTAL: I have a friend who is not an artful man, though
he be full of art; and yesterday evening he told me the following:

'In my early days, when I took views of burly farmers and their
bouncing daughters in oil, and painted portraits of their favorite
horses for a very moderate _honorarium_, and in short, was the
artist of a small country town--why, then, to tell the truth, I was
held to be one of the greatest painters in existence. Since
studying abroad, and settling down in New-York--'

'And getting your name up among the first,' I added.

'Never mind that--I'm not 'the greatest painter that ever lived'
here. But in Spodunk, I was. Folks 'admired to see me.' I was a man
that 'had got talent into him,' and the village damsels invited me
to tea. There were occasional drawbacks, to be sure. One day a man
who had heard that I had painted Doctor Hewls's house, called and
asked me what I would charge to paint his little 'humsted.' I
offered to do it for twenty dollars.

'He gave me a shrewd gimlet-look and said:

'Find your own paint--o' course?'

''Of course,' I replied.

''What color?'

''Why, the same color you now have,' was my astonished answer.

''Wall, I don't know. My wife kind o' thinks that turtle-color
would suit our house better than Spanish brown. You put on two
coats, of course?'

'I now saw what he meant, and roaring with laughter, explained to
him that there was a difference between a painter of houses and a
house-painter.

'One morning I was interrupted by a grim, Herculean, stern-looking
young fellow--one who was manifestly a man of facts--who, with a
brief introduction of himself, asked if I could teach 'the pictur
business.' I signified my assent, and while talking of terms,
continued painting away at a landscape. I noticed that my visitor
glanced at my work at first as if puzzled, and then with an air of
contempt. Finally he inquired:

'''S _that_ the way you make your pictures?'

''That is it,' I replied.