Literature and Art 



He saw the splendor of the morning sunshine upon 

 the green hills, and the long purple shadows of the 

 trees upon the freshly fallen snow. He liked to 

 walk alone in the silvery moonlight, finding some- 

 thing beautiful everywhere he went. 



One bright spring day a tall stranger with a 

 bundle on his back came walking down the little 

 valley in which Svend Svendsen lived. When he 

 came to a cluster of white birches which grew by 

 the side of a noisy brook he stopped, undid his 

 bundle, set up his easel, and began to paint. Now 

 this little clump of trees was one of the things that 

 the boy loved most. He wanted to see what the 

 man was doing, so he crept up behind and watched 

 him at his work. As the picture grew before his 

 beauty-loving eyes, how wonderful it all seemed to 

 him ! His heart beat fast with delight. 



When the stranger had finished the picture he 

 folded his easel and rose to go. Without a word 

 Svend Svendsen picked up the artist's stool and 

 followed him down the road. From that day the 

 little boy and the tall stranger, who was one of the 

 great artists of the North country, were friends, and 

 the man taught the boy how to paint. Svendsen 

 worked hard and studied long, till he became a 



