When one got an invitation out to dinner he would go, and furtively drop
biscuit and slices of meat into his lap, and then slyly transfer them to
his waistcoat-pockets, so as to take them to his less fortunate brethren.

They haunted the galleries, made themselves familiar with catalogs,
criticized without stint, knew all about current prices, and were able
to point out the great artists of Paris when they passed proudly up the
street.

They sketched eternally, formed small wax models, and made great
preparations for masterpieces.

The reason they did not produce the masterpieces was because they did not
have money to buy brushes, paints and canvas. Neither did they have funds
to purchase food to last until the thing was done; and it is difficult to
produce great art on half-rations. So they formed the brotherhood, and
one midnight swore eternal fealty. They were to draw lots: the lucky
member was to paint and the other five were to support him for a month.
He was to be supplied his painting outfit and to be absolutely free from
all responsibility as to the bread-and-butter question for a whole month.

Trimolet was the first lucky man.

He set diligently to work, and dined each evening on a smoking
mutton-chop with a bottle of wine, at a respectable restaurant. The five
stood outside and watched him through the window--they dined when and
where they could.

His picture grew apace, and in three weeks was completed. It was
entitled, "Sisters of Charity Giving Out Soup to the Poor." The work was