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HOW NORMAN BECAME AN ARTIST.

The landscape-painter sat on a camp-stool with an umbrella over his head. His palette and his box of paints were on the ground by his side. He was there to draw a picture of the village of F——.

Hardly had he begun his crayon outline when he heard a boy's voice behind him. "May I look on? sir?" said the boy. "Yes, look as much as you please, but don't talk," said the painter without turning his head.

The boy had a basket strapped to his back, and stood looking intently, with both hands resting on his knees. His name was Norman Blake. Other boys, and a young woman, soon came up, and joined him as spectators.

Norman studied every movement of the painter's hand; and, when he got home, he took a piece of charcoal, and tried to draw a picture on the wall. Rather a rough picture it was, but pretty good for a first attempt.

The next day Norman went again, and looked on while the painter sketched. "You've got that line wrong," cried Norman all at once, forgetting that the painter had told him not to talk.

"What do you know about it, you young vagabond?" cried the painter angrily. "Out of this! Run, scamper, and don't show your rogue's face here again! But stop. Before you go, come here, and point out what struck you as wrong."

Norman pointed to a certain line which made the village church seem a little out of its right place in the picture. The landscape-painter seized him by the ear, and said, "You little scamp, how did you find that out? You are right, sir! But what business have you to criticise my picture? I am hesitating whether to thrash you, or to make a painter of you."

"Make a painter of me, by all means;" said Norman, laughing; for he saw that the honest painter was only half in earnest.

Well, the end of it was, that Norman accompanied the painter to the city, and began to study drawing and painting. He succeeded so well, that, after he had been studying six years, he one day brought to his friend the painter the sketch which we have had copied above.

"Do you remember that?" asked Norman.

"Of course I do!" said the painter. "It represents our first meeting. Little did I think that the young vagabond with the basket on his back would one day beat me in sketching."