LITTLE PAPERS FOR LITTLE ART WORKERS.

IVORY MINIATURE PAINTING.

We all know the beautiful miniatures that grandmammas count as some of their greatest treasures, mementoes of the friends of long ago. Some of those little bits of ivory are now worth, over and over again, their weight in gold. The names of Nicholas Hilliard, Isaac and Peter Oliver, Samuel Cooper, Nathaniel Hone, and Richard Cosway, are well-known in connection with the art of Miniature Painting. Photography now supersedes all other modes of taking portraits on a small scale on account of its rapidity, but no photograph, however carefully coloured, ever did, or ever will, equal the exquisite little gems left to us by the men we have reason to honour whose names I have mentioned already. I should, for my part, be glad to see the art, which has never gone quite out of fashion, restored to its old popularity.

The choice of a good piece of ivory is important. You can get the pieces of various sizes from any good artist's colourman, and you must look out for one that has as little grain as possible in the centre, because the s.p.a.ce the face will occupy should be free from streaks that would be detrimental to the painting. The remainder of the ivory is not of so much consequence, as in representing the drapery and background the grain can generally be hidden. Large sizes can be obtained, but I should not advise you to begin on one of them; a piece about 3-1/2 in. by 4-3/4 in. does very well for a first attempt. Ivory can be cut with a pair of scissors, but it is a risky operation, and it is far better to get a professional worker to cut it for you if you need the shape or size altered; then, too, if you want an oval shape you will be pretty sure to get a true oval, which very possibly you could not manage yourself. Red sable brushes are used, and you should select those that will come to a good point. You will not require more than three or four, a medium size for washes, a smaller for stippling, and a very fine one for finishing-touches. An oval china palette is also needed; the small slabs sold in ordinary paintboxes are not serviceable for miniature painting, as many colours and tints are necessary. Use the best water-colours if you wish to succeed, and you will find those in pans or half pans are preferable to the dry cakes, as time is not spent in rubbing them down.

These are the most useful colours:--Cobalt, French ultra, Prussian blue, carmine, or pink madder, Indian red, vermilion, light red, sepia, burnt umber, burnt sienna, Indian yellow, yellow ochre, ivory black, and Chinese white. I do not consider more than these requisite for an ordinary palette. Then you must have a firm drawing-board, and a bottle of clear strong gum. Some pieces of old linen should be kept at hand for cleaning the palette; if anything else be used for the purpose fluffy particles will be left on it that will get mixed up with the colours, and that we must do all in our power to avoid. I want to impress upon you the importance of choosing a good light for your work; for one reason you cannot get the delicate tints which are the great charm of ivory miniature painting if you sit in a bad position for seeing well; and for a second reason the work is so fine that there is the danger of trying your eyes too much if you are not careful in this respect.

You must never continue the work if your eyes feel tired. Some person's eyesight is so much stronger than that of others that you must judge for yourselves whether or no it is harmful to you to produce such fine paintings. It is best to sketch the portrait first correctly on paper; not many amateurs will be able to do it direct on the ivory without some guide, and as few alterations as possible must be made on the ivory. If the sketch be tolerably dark it may be laid beneath the ivory, and so traced off with a brush filled with light red. It is far easier, of course, to work from a photograph; if you do this you need only to place the ivory over it, and thus you have the features, and the princ.i.p.al folds of the dress, ready to mark off with the brush on the semi-transparent ground. You must be so very careful not to let the ivory slip in the faintest degree out of place, or the likeness will sure to prove a failure.

When you have all the princ.i.p.al points clearly defined, fix it by gumming it at the top to a square of writing-paper, which must be white.

At the back of this lay three or four more squares of paper, until the ivory thus mounted looks opaque. Bristol board is used sometimes instead of paper, but it is liable to warp when exposed to heat. The ivory must only be gummed at the top, for if gum were allowed to run under the face the flesh-tints would be darkened; the papers also must be gummed together at the top, and they should be somewhat larger than the ivory.

It must be placed aside until dry pressed in a book with a piece of clean paper over it. Lay on the first flesh-tint evenly with a large brush, leaving the whites of the eyes untouched. Light red, or Venetian red, to which the slightest touch of yellow has been added, forms a good tint to work upon; for dark complexion a little more yellow will be requisite.

When the right depth of colour in the lights of the face is properly secured, the shadows may be put in with a good-sized brush. It is a great mistake ever to use very small brushes when larger ones can be equally well employed. In every style of painting we should strive to work as far as possible in a broad manner, and large brushes help us to do this. So, too, we should whenever practicable lay on our colours in washes; if we begin with stippling our drawings they will be "niggling,"

and will be sure to look poor and "spotty." The shadows differ in shape and in colour on all faces, and to render these accurately is by no means an unimportant part of taking a likeness; the expression depends greatly upon the shadows, and we need to study nature closely if we would represent all the delicate gradations faithfully. As a shadow colour, cobalt, Venetian red, carmine or pink madder, and a suspicion of yellow, will make a good foundation; but the tint must be varied as occasion demands. Under the eyes, the shadows are blueish, whilst those under the eyebrows and nostrils are warm in tint; Indian red serves well for warming shadows. Beginners will very probably fear to lay in the shadows too strongly, but when they see the effect produced, they are likely to go to the opposite extreme and smear in the shadows heavily for the sake of giving character to the likeness. The happy medium is what we must strive to secure; we do not want our paintings to be weak, but neither do we want them "dirty" in tone. The shadows on the throat should be rather grey, but not so much so as to appear livid and unnatural; here light red and cobalt will predominate. On the neck they will be of a soft blue tone. They must all be clearly washed in without reaching too far into the lights, as lights and shadows must subsequently be softened into each other with the lovely demi-tints that afford the pearl-like appearance of the natural clear complexion. These half tints are formed of cobalt and light red, or of French ultra and carmine; pink madder may take the place of carmine if preferred, for though not so brilliant it is more lasting. A fair child's complexion will require more vermilion and less carmine than that of an adult. To keep the form of the lips true to nature is another point that demands our strictest attention. Blue eyes are put in with cobalt, toned with shadow colour; grey, with a mixture of blue and red. There are many varieties of shade in brown eyes, and you must find out by experiment what is best to use for them, as you may have, at one time or another, to depict hazel, chestnut, and deep brown eyes that are called black.

You will find burnt terra sienna and shadow colour useful, and in the case of the darkest brown shade, the employment of lake and sepia will be necessary. The pupil is put in with sepia.

On no account must black be used in painting the eyes. Now we come to the eyebrows and eyelashes. These are of the same colour as the hair, but usually darker in tint. Do not try to make out the separate hairs, or hardness, which is very undesirable, will ensue. Sometimes in finishing the eyelashes you will improve them with a few fine strokes after the wash of colour is laid on. The hair must be painted broadly in large ma.s.ses, and its natural fall on the forehead, its tendency to curl or wave, must be truly rendered. For black hair use neutral tint, and a little indigo for the lights; for the local colour, indigo, lake, and gamboge. For brown hair, sepia, but should it be very dark add a little lake. Burnt umber will give a beautiful chestnut brown if mixed with lake modified with sepia. No part of a miniature should be finished off until all the rest is close to completion; for one colour affects another considerably when they are placed side by side, and so it is impossible to judge of the strength of a tint until all its surroundings are brought near to an equal state of finish. Select a colour for the drapery that will suit the complexion and hair; one that will heighten the effect of each, and produce a pleasing harmony. Nothing is more charming than white for a young girl, who possesses a fair complexion; the ivory itself forms a soft creamy white ground that needs only the shadows and reflections to be thrown in, and a little Chinese white is employed for the lights. If the dress is coloured you should manage to introduce some white lace around the throat. Black velvet is also extremely becoming; the lights are put in with Chinese white.

Brilliant colours for draperies should always be avoided, as there is so little s.p.a.ce in a miniature to be given to the accessories that they must be kept low in tone if they are to be subordinate to the likeness.

A small quant.i.ty of gum is required in the background, and in the draperies just a drop is mixed in with the colours for finishing off the dress. The harmony of the whole will depend greatly on the tint chosen for the background. It may be as dark as you like, only you must not let it be heavy. A neutral tint of grey or brown is easy for a beginner to manage, and a warm red-brown is admirable for the purpose. A soft blue sky with fleecy-white clouds makes the best background for a fair girl in a white dress. Wash in the background colour to the desired strength, then stipple it to get it smooth.

With a few general remarks I must end these suggestions. "Stippling" is the filling in with a small brush, but not too fine, of any s.p.a.ces left when the colour is washed in. The polished surface of the ivory will not take the wash as paper does, and it requires a great deal of working up before it appears level and smooth. Any touches may be put in with a trifle of gum added to the colour. You will use sepia for the dark touches on the eyebrows and eyelashes, carmine and sepia for those about the mouth and nostrils. The spot of white in the eye must not be forgotten. The lights are always left, not taken out afterwards. Any hairs that may be found on the ivory after a tint is washed in must be removed with a needle or the extreme point of a clean brush. Lay in your colours with decision, and always try as far as you possibly can to work in a broad free style.

FAITHFUL TO HER TRUST.

Far away in the mountains of Westmoreland there is a lonely ravine called Far Easedale, and here was once a cottage called Blentarn Ghyll, where a man named Green once lived with his wife and six children.

One day George Green and his wife went to a sale of furniture at Grasmere. Before starting they spoke kindly to their eldest girl Agnes, who was then only nine years old, and begged her to take special care of all her little brothers and sisters.

"We shall be home to-night, dear," said Mrs. Green, "but you'll be a little mother to them whilst we are away, won't you?"

Agnes promised gaily, thinking it would be rather fun to be left in charge.

All went well till towards evening, when a terrible snow-storm came on.

The white flakes fell so fast that the door was blocked up; worse than this, the snow made its way through the windows.

Having put the baby to bed, Agnes and the other children sat up till midnight, hoping that their parents would come, but not a sound was heard, as the snow fell silently thicker and thicker.

In the morning the snow had stopped falling, but it lay so deep that Agnes dared not venture out.

The children were miserable, and Agnes, child as she was herself, forgot her own trouble in trying to cheer and comfort them. Then she boiled what milk there was in the house, to prevent its turning sour, and made some porridge for breakfast, eating very little herself, for she feared the little stock of meal might fail.

After breakfast she asked her two brothers to help her cut a way from the door to the shed where the peat was kept, and they carried in as much as they could. Then they closed the door till night came and they forgot their troubles in sleep.

The next day a strong wind had blown away so much snow that Agnes determined to try to find her way to Grasmere. It was a difficult task, for there were brooks to cross; but the brave girl was urged on by the memory of the little ones she had left behind, and made her way there.

Here she found that her father and mother had started for home on the first night. As they had not since been heard of, she had little doubt that they must have fallen into some hole or brook and have perished in the snow.

Still faithful to her trust, the poor child returned to the cottage, where she carefully watched over her brothers and sisters, until kind friends found new homes for the little orphans.

E. M. W.

A MORNING VISIT.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "AND AT LAST NURSE SAYS I MAY CARRY UP HER MORNING TEA."]

Darling mother! not to see her For a whole week and a day!

It was hard; but she is better, And at last nurse says I may Carry up her morning tea.

Only one wee, tiny minute Must I wait to kiss her cheek, And to whisper how I missed her Every day this long, long week, And to ask if she missed me.

Often, while they thought me sleeping, Did I lie an hour and more, Crying--when the house was quiet-- Softly at her bedroom door, Where she could not hear nor see.

Oh, it was so dull without her!

Every one was grave and sad; But I think, now she is better, Even the little birds look glad As they hop from tree to tree.

MAGGIE MACDONALD.

GOING TO SEA IN A CAGE.

AN OLD SAILOR'S STORY.

Aye, aye, sir! I've seen a good many queer things in my time, sure enough; but the queerest thing I ever saw was a bit of work aboard the old _Mermaid_, when we were homeward bound from Hong Kong and Singapore.

Would you like to hear the story? Well, then, if you'll just come to an anchor for a minute or two on this coil of rope, I'll tell you all about it.

The very first day out from Hong Kong I took notice of one young lady, who was lying on a kind of basket-work sofa, on the sunny side of the p.o.o.p-deck. She had the sweetest face I ever saw, but it went to my heart to see how thin and pale she looked. And well she might, poor thing! for it seems she had something wrong with her back, so as she couldn't walk or stand up, or anything; and she was going to England to see some great doctor or other, and try if _he_ could cure her.

All the pa.s.sengers were very good to her, I will say _that_ for 'em; and as for us blue-jackets, every man Jack of us would have jumped overboard only to please her, when once we knew how it was. But she was too weak to talk or read much, and the chief thing she had to amuse her was a little grey Java sparrow, which she had with her in a cage. Whenever she came on deck, the bird's cage was brought up too, and put close beside her; and it was Bob Wilkins, the pantry-boy, who always had the carrying of it.

It was a pretty little thing that bird was, and as sensible as any man; fact, it was a deal more sensible than many men that _I_'ve met. When she had a headache (and terrible headaches she used to have, poor la.s.s) that bird would be as quiet as a mouse. But when she was well enough to stand it, she'd have the cage brought to her, and open it with her own hands, and out the little fellow would pop, and flutter on to her shoulder, and eat out of her hand, just as natural as could be. And then she used to stroke its feathers with her poor thin fingers and smile such a strange, sad kind of smile, that many a time I've had to go away in a hurry for fear I should cry outright; and I can tell you I wasn't the only one, neither.

But fond as we all were of that bird, there was somebody else that was fonder still, and that was the captain's big tortoise-sh.e.l.l cat: and to see the way it kept its eye on that Java sparrow, and watched for a chance to get hold of it! you never saw the like.