Delaroche's, did not care for these lofty subjects. It was the dignity
and pathos of labour that moved him most; the silent, weary, noble lives
of the uncomplaining peasants, amongst whom his own days had been mostly
passed. Delaroche could not make him out at all; he was such a curious,
incomprehensible, odd young fellow! "There, go your own way, if you
will," the great master said to him at last; "for my part, I can make
nothing of you."

So, shortly after, Millet and his friend Marolle set up a studio for
themselves in the Rue de l'Est in Paris. The precise occasion of their
going was this. Millet was anxious to obtain the Grand Prize of Rome
annually offered to the younger artists, and Delaroche definitely told
him that his own influence would be used on behalf of another pupil.
After this, the young Norman felt that he could do better by following
out his own genius in his own fashion. At the Rue de l'Est, he continued
to study hard, but he also devoted a large part of his time to painting
cheap portraits--what artists call "pot-boilers;" mere hasty works
dashed off anyhow to earn his daily livelihood. For these pictures he
got about ten to fifteen francs apiece,--in English money from eight to
twelve shillings. They were painted in a theatrical style, which Millet
himself detested--all pink cheeks, and red lips, and blue satin, and
lace collars; whereas his own natural style was one of great austerity
and a certain earnest sombreness the exact reverse of the common
Parisian taste to which he ministered. However, he had to please his
patrons--and, like a sensible man, he went on producing these cheap
daubs to any extent required, for a living, while he endeavoured to
perfect himself meanwhile for the higher art he was meditating for the
future. In the great galleries of the Louvre at Paris he found abundant
models which he could study in the works of the old masters; and there,
poring over Michael Angelo and Mantegna, he could recompense himself a