'
I jumped up at this, and looked up, but I could see nothing but a garden
wall and a thick bushy tree, which was growing just inside it.
'Hullo, who's there?' I shouted.
But there was dead silence; and as no one appeared, and nothing more
happened, I sat down and went on with my picture.
Many people passed by as I was painting, and tried to look at what I was
doing. Some glanced out of the corners of their eyes as they walked on;
others paused behind me and silently watched me; a few made remarks to
one another about my picture; one or two offered suggestions, thought I
should have had a better view lower down the hill, or hoped that I would
make the colouring vivid enough. The children with whom I had travelled
seemed to feel a kind of partnership in my picture.
'Let's go and look at _our_ artist,' Bob would say to Harry; 'his
picture is going to be the best of the lot.'
They were so fond of watching me, and so much excited over what I was
doing, that, as time went on, I was often obliged to ask them to move
further away, so eager were they to watch every movement of my brush.
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