mistake to leave it out. This is his story of the night:

Nature drowses--the fresh air, however, sighs among the leaves--the
dew decks the velvety grass with pearls. The nymphs fly--hide
themselves--and desire to be seen. Bing! a star in the sky which
pricks its image on the pool. Charming star--whose brilliance is
increased by the quivering of the water, thou watchest me--thou
smilest to me with half-closed eye! Bing!--a second star appears in
the water, a second eye opens. Be the harbingers of welcome, fresh and
charming stars. Bing! Bing! Bing!--three, six, twenty stars. All the
stars in the sky are keeping tryst in this happy pool. Everything
darkens, the pool alone sparkles. There is a swarm of stars--all
yields to illusion. The sun being gone to bed, the inner sun of the
soul, the sun of art awakens. Bon! there is my picture done!

In writing those letters, Corot made literature as well as
pictures. That little word "bing!" appears also in his paintings, as
little leaves or bits of tree-trunk, some small detail which,
high-lightened, accents the whole.

PLATE--DANCE OF THE NYMPHS

There could hardly be a more charming painting than this which hangs
in the Louvre. It is of a half-shut-in landscape of tall trees, their
branches mingling; and all the atmospheric effects that belong to
Corot's work can here be seen.

On the open greensward is a group of nymphs dancing gaily, while over
all the scene is the veil of fairy-land or of something quite
mysterious. At the back and side, satyrs can be seen watching the