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song or tell a story； and they omit few opportunities。
Males and females suck whisky like milk； and are quarrelsome in
proportion。 The men fight （round…handed）； the women fleicht or scold； in
the form of a teapotthe handle fixed and the spout sawing the air。
A singular custom prevails here。
The maidens have only one sweetheart apiece！！！
So the whole town is in pairs。
The courting is all done on Saturday night； by the lady's fire。 It is
hard to keep out of a groove in which all the town is running； and the
Johnstone had possessed； as mere propertya lad！
She was so wealthy that few of them could pretend to aspire to her； so
she selected for her chattel a young man called Willy Liston； a youth of
an unhappy turnhe contributed nothing to hilarity； his face was a
kill…joynobody liked him； for this female reason Christie distinguished
him。
He found a divine supper every Saturday night in her house； he ate； and
sighed！ Christie fed him； and laughed at him。
Flucker ditto。
As she neither fed nor laughed at any other man； some twenty were
bitterly jealous of Willy Liston； and this gave the blighted youth a
cheerful moment or two。
But the bright alliance received a check some months before our tale。
Christie was _heluo librorum！_ and like others who have that taste； and
can only gratify it in the interval of manual exercise； she read very
intensely in her hours of study。 A book absorbed her。 She was like a
leech on these occasions； _non missura cutem。_ Even Jean Carnie； her
co…adjutor or 〃neebor；〃 as they call it； found it best to keep out of her
way till the book was sucked。
One Saturday night Willy Liston's evil star ordained that a gentleman of
French origin and Spanish dress； called Gil Blas； should be the
Johnstone's companion。
Willy Liston arrived。
Christie； who had bolted the door； told him from the window； civilly
enough； but decidedly； 〃She would excuse his company that night。〃
〃Vara weel；〃 said Willy； and departed。
Next Saturdayno Willy came。
Ditto the next。 Willy was waiting the _amende。_
Christie forgot to make it。
One day she was passing the boats； Willy beckoned her mysteriously； he
led her to his boat； which was called 〃The Christie Johnstone〃； by the
boat's side was a paint pot and brush。
They had not supped together for five Saturdays。
Ergo； Mr。 Liston had painted out the first four letters of 〃Christie；〃 he
now proceeded to paint out the fifth； giving her to understand； that； if
she allowed the whole name to go； a letter every blank Saturday； her
image would be gradually； but effectually； obliterated from the heart
Listonian。
My reader has done what Liston did not； anticipate her answer。 She
recommended him； while his hand was in； to paint out the entire name；
and； with white paint and a smaller brush； to substitute some other
female appellation。 So saying； she tripped off。
Mr。 Liston on this was guilty of the following inconsistency； he pressed
the paint carefully out of the brush into the pot。 Having thus economized
his material； he hurled the pot which contained his economy at 〃the
Johnstone；〃 he then adjourned to the 〃Peacock；〃 and 〃away at once with
love and reason。〃
Thenceforth； when men asked who was Christie Johnstone's lad； the answer
used to be； 〃She's seeking ane。〃 _Quelle horreur！！_
Newhaven doesn't know everything； but my intelligent reader suspects；
and； if confirming his suspicions can reconcile him to our facts； it will
soon be done。
But he must come with us to Edinburgh； it's only three miles。
CHAPTER VI。
A LITTLE band of painters came into Edinburgh from a professional walk。
Three were of EdinburghGroove； aged fifty； Jones and Hyacinth； young；
the latter long…haired。
With them was a young Englishman； the leader of the expedition； Charles
Gatty。
His step was elastic； and his manner wonderfully animated； without
loudness。
〃A bright day；〃 said he。 〃The sun forgot where he was； and shone；
everything was in favor of art。〃
〃Oh； dear； no；〃 replied old Groove； 〃not where I was〃
〃Why； what was the matter？〃
〃The flies kept buzzing and biting； and sticking in the work。 That's the
worst of out o' doors！〃
〃The flies！ is that all？ Swear the spiders in special constables next
time；〃 cried Gatty。 〃We shall win the day；〃 and light shone into his
hazel eye。
〃The world will not always put up with the humbugs of the brush； who； to
imitate Nature； turn their back on her。 Paint an out o' door scene
indoors！ I swear by the sun it's a lie！ the one stupid； impudent lie that
glitters among the lies of vulgar art； like Satan among Belial； Mammon
and all those beggars。
〃Now look here； the barren outlines of a scene must be looked at； to be
done； hence the sketching system slop…sellers of the Academy！ but the
million delicacies of light； shade； and color can be trusted to memory；
can they？
〃It's a lie big enough to shake the earth out of her course； if any part
of the work could be trusted to memory or imagination； it happens to be
the bare outlines； and they can't。 The million subtleties of light and
color； learn them by heart； and say them off on canvas！ the highest angel
in the sky must have his eye upon them； and look devilish sharp； too； or
he shan't paint them。 I give him Charles Gatty's word for that。〃
〃That's very eloquent； I call it；〃 said Jones。
〃Yes；〃 said poor old Groove； 〃the lad will never make a painter。〃
〃Yes； I shall； Groove； at least I hope so； but it must be a long time
first。〃
〃I never knew a painter who could talk and paint both；〃 explained Mr。
Groove。
〃Very well；〃 said Gatty。 〃Then I'll say but one word more； and it is
this。 The artifice of painting is old enough to die； it is time the art
was born。 Whenever it does come into the world； you will see no more dead
corpses of trees； grass and water； robbed of their life； the sunlight；
and flung upon canvas in a studio； by the light of a cigar； and a
lieand〃
〃How much do you expect for your picture？〃 interrupted Jones。
〃What has that to do with it？ With these little swords〃 （waving his
brush）； 〃we'll fight for nature…light； truth light； and sunlight against
a world in armsno； worse； in swaddling clothes。〃
〃With these little swerrds；〃 replied poor old Groove； 〃we shall cut our
own throats if we go against people's prejudices。〃
The young artist laughed the old daubster a merry defiance； and then
separated from the party； for his lodgings were down the street。
He had not left them long； before a most musical voice was heard； crying：
〃A caallerr owoo！〃
And two young fishwives hove in sight。 The boys recognized one of them as
Gatty's sweetheart。
〃Is he in love with her？〃 inquired Jones。
Hyacinth the long…haired undertook to reply。
〃He loves her better than anything in the world except Art。 Love and Art
are two beautiful things；〃 whined Hyacinth。
〃She； too； is beautiful。 I have done her；〃 added he； with a simper。
〃In oil？〃 asked Groove。
〃In oil？ no； in verse； here；〃 and he took out a paper。
〃Then hadn't we better cut？ you might propose reading them；〃 said poor
old Groove。
〃Have you any oysters？〃 inquired Jones of the Carnie and