The next morning early go to
some government office, ask for a place, and give up art."
"My dear friend," said Fougeres, "my picture is already condemned; it
is not a verdict that I want of you, but the cause of that verdict."
"Well--you paint gray and sombre; you see nature being a crape veil;
your drawing is heavy, pasty; your composition is a medley of Greuze,
who only redeemed his defects by the qualities which you lack."
While detailing these faults of the picture Schinner saw on Fougeres'
face so deep an expression of sadness that he carried him off to
dinner and tried to console him. The next morning at seven o'clock
Fougeres was at his easel working over the rejected picture; he warmed
the colors; he made the corrections suggested by Schinner, he touched
up his figures. Then, disgusted with such patching, he carried the
picture to Elie Magus. Elie Magus, a sort of Dutch-Flemish-Belgian,
had three reasons for being what he became,--rich and avaricious.
Coming last from Bordeaux, he was just starting in Paris, selling old
pictures and living on the boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle. Fougeres, who
relied on his palette to go to the baker's, bravely ate bread and
nuts, or bread and milk, or bread and cherries, or bread and cheese,
according to the seasons. Elie Magus, to whom Pierre offered his first
picture, eyed it for some time and then gave him fifteen francs.
"With fifteen francs a year coming in, and a thousand francs for
expenses," said Fougeres, smiling, "a man will go fast and far.
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