Oldal 15 [15]
“TELL us all about it, please: —
‘Just a held — a group of trees,
With a river flowing by,
And low hills against the sky.
“Then upon the other side,
Upright easel, canvas wide,
Sheaf of brushes, wet and dry,
And a little artist—Guy.
‘‘He has only just begun,
And so little yet is done,
I should find it hard to tell
If he does it il! or well.
“Tet us leave him till it’s done,
Artists don’t like lookers-on,
Somewhere near we’ll find a seat,
And perhaps some meadow-sweet.”