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OCR
“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.”
