The Magic Painting

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 32, 8 February 1939, Page 20

The Magic Painting

(By Tul Cralglc, 79, Morgan Are., New Lynn.)

Tall, dewy graes grew all around the little cottage. A green enake-like vine fell from the branches of a grey, twisted tree, and wandered across the low roof. Behind the cottage, a line of tall pines •peered the eky. They stood like grim •entinele guarding the little house, which nestled down comfortably under the overhanging tree* of the forest. Davy, however, had no eyee for the beauty of the place as he hurried up the thin winding path, the long grass ewishing against hie lege. He knocked loudly and impatiently at the door. For a while there Was no answer. Then he heard footsteps and a slow shuffling, and the door wnd opened by an old, bent man. Hi* face, wrinkled and kindly, was framed in a thick nuuw of eoft, white hair. When lie saw his young visitor he ■aid with a smile, "Now, yottag fellow, what are yott wanting with one hidden •o deep in Safabnry's woods?" He looked down at the fair face and •aw the dark lines-about Davy'* eyes, the sunken cheeks and the tangled hair falling about his forehead. "I think/* he said, "you've been lost. Haven't I gueMed right, now?" Come on in, little lnd, I have just made myself • cup o , coffee, eo we'll drink it together." "Oh, thank you," emiled Davy. "I am io hungry and t could eat almost anything. I did get lost—yesterday afterloon," he continued. "I wandered about trying to find my way until darkness eame. I slept in a hollow tree. It was yery cold." • "Poor little chap," sympathised the old man. "But never mind. I'll give you a hot meal, and you'll,feel much better."

After a cup of coffee, tome hot, freshly baked sconee, and a bowl of thick, steamfng soup, Davy began to feel more observant. He began to .notice things about the small, tidy room he had been too weary to take in be'fore. A faded, ■ rose-coloured carpet lay on the floor, and the window* were curtained with white, frilly crepe. In each corner of the' room was a pretty curio. In one corner wae a large, beautiful ehell of soft pink and cream shades. In another stood an old carved chest made of wood resembling ebony and very highly polished. but the thing which attracted Davy'e attention most wiih a large plate on the mantelpiece above the fireplace on which wa* painted a picture in soft, delicate tone*. AcroM the shell pink clouds that swept the sky in flowing ribbons, there wheeled a hoet of long-winged ,birds, their feathere eoft rose in the glowing light. The old man observed Davy'e interest in the plate and glanced towards it proudly. "That is my work," he said. "I will show you some more of my paintings if you wish. Come th» way." The old man led Davy into a email room that was cluttered with painting* of all sorts. "Here," he said, "I keep my pictures. What do you think of them? ,, Davy's eyee first encountered a very large painting, framed in black wood. It stood on a high shelf above nil the others. There was something very strange about this picture. Yes, something very etrange indeed. The painting was of purple meadows, rising and .falling away to the horizon, with groups of yellow coloured trtees whose sparse, yet thick branches ended in a large red knob, growing on top

of the little knolle. Here and there a clump of blue or red flowere brightened the grass.

c "We shall pay a visit to Oraz, my r bird friend," said Davy's artist friend, y and he helped Davy up beside him, then i ' led the way across the meadows. ' Soon they came to the fringes of a small grove, of trees, and the old man *; told Davy that Oraz lived only a short [ distance away. ,- They followed a small path that t entered the grove of trees, and Davy r gazed around him at the strange plants ■. on either side. t Some were small, stubby little trunks i with short branches growing from them. ( Others were tall, slim stemmed and 1 graceful, with drooping brandies in soft 1 shades of pink, cream, pale blue or ] misty white. Forming a lovely under- : growth beneath the trees, there grew < ' dozens of coarse purple ferns and thick, i brightly-coloured vines. Small fantastic 1 flowers all struggled up towards the ] warm, green sky above. i Suddenly they came upon a little house that was almost hidden by large, flapping leaves and clambering vines. ' But a little red door stood slightly open, as if to invite any visitor right ' inside. "This is the little cottage belonging I to my friend," explained the old man to |' • Davy. Almost as soon as they knocked at the door, CYaz appeared. He was a thin i brown bird, with large boots on his ' feet and bright, sparkling eyes. A " bowler hat was perched on his head and a bright scarf wound around his - neck. "How d'ye do. How d'ye do?" he - crowed loudly, removing a pipe from his 1 yellow beak. "Come in and sit down. I f see you have a friend with you. Bring - him in." He bowed several times and ushered them into a little neatly kept living room. 1 The walls of the room were a pale, ■» smoky blue, and the pretty little chairs 8 and tables were pale yellow. The cur- " tains were bright rose and a little car- • pet before the fire was pink and • salmon. Soon the little brown bird was bustling about and preparing a cup of tea for his visitors. Davy was delighted with the sweet, airy taste of the tea, and the dainty cakes just melted in his mouth. Soon, however, it was time to go. They thanked Oraz for his kindness, and the old man promised to come and visit him again soon. They reached the picture frame and climbed down the ladder into the little room. "Well, now, what did you think of that plant?" asked the old man. "It was very strange and beautiful," was Davy's answer. "Now we shall see about taking you home. Don't forget your promise and come and see me another day soon, and we'll explore some other magic paintings," said the old artist.

Winding amongst the fields was painted a sparkling stream. The water ripple* gleamed sapphire, emerald, gold, ruby and white. Once the water fell in a dazzling cascade over a steep rock and wound on through the long, purple grasses and feme. Overhead the sky wa« a pale, softlyglowing breeze, with wisps of blue clouds sailing before an invisible breeze. The old man's voice hroke in on Davy'e thoughts, a« he wondered how a painting could be so strange, and yet eo real. "That painting, my boy," the artist was saying, "is magical. I have a little secret which I will tell you if you promise never to speak a word about it to anyone else." Davy gave hie promise, and the old man produced from his pocket a pair of green glasses. "These are a pair of magic glasses," he said, "an old witch dropped them as she hurried through this forest. They enable me to see planets and I make paintings of them." Davy gazed, wide-eyed and wonderingly, at the glasses. They were a beautiful, soft transparent green, ae if all the colour from the shady streams of winter and the pale green from a sunset sky had been mixed into the rims.

Without a word, but smiling mysteriously, the old man placed the top of a short ladder against the picture frame, mounted it, and climbed right into the picture! He called to the very wideeyed and unbelieving Davy to follow. Davy climbed up and gingerly placed a foot inside the frame. Yes, the grass blades and flowers were very real. They nodded and whimpered as the faint zephyr blew them apart and together.

THE LADY ON THE PENNY.

The figure of Britannia on an English penny originally represented an actual lady who, in her day, was regarded as a model of beauty. The lady was i Frances Stuart, Duchess of Richmond, and it was in the reign of Charles the Second lhafc her likeness was transferred to all the copper coinage. We can judge whether she is fairly pictured as Britannia, for her portrait was painted by Sir Peter Lely, the fashionable artist of her time, and it hangs in the Barbers' Hall in the City 'of London. There is a copy of it in Hampton Coujp Palace, and in the Islip Chapel of West- j mineter Abbey is a wax effigy of the lady as she appeared at the Coronation of Queen Anne. 1