Ingles

Is He Living or Is Dead?
In march 1892 . I was staying at quiet hotel in my favorite town on the Mediterranean coast . Mentone has everything : bright sunshine , white beaches , clear blue water .But the very rich don’t usually come Mentone . They like to crowd into Monte Carlo or Nice with other millionaires .Of course , now and then , a rich man does come , and during my stay al the Hotel desAnglais I met one of these .
At breakfast one morning , my new friend – I will cal him Mr. Smith – pointed urgently at the door .
“Quick!” he said .”Look at the man leaving the dining room Notice everything about him .Do you know who he is?”
“Yes,” I answered . “His name is Theohile Magnan , a rich old man who has been here for about two weeks .He owned most of the cloth factories aroundLyon before he stopped working . That’s what people say .He never talks to anyone ”
After a minute or two of silence , Mr. Smith asked , “Do you know any of Hans Andersen’s stories? He’s one of my favorite writers.”
“Yes , of course ,” I answered . “Which one are you thinking of?”
A young boy has a beautiful bird for a pet . He loves the bird but he forgets to feed it. After a time , the birdbecomes weak and it stops singing . One morning , the child finds it lying on the floor .His heart breaks .With many tears and sad songs , he places the dead bird in a little box and then puts the box in the ground .
“In the same way , we forget about our great artists when they are alive .We think that they can live on air .Then they die and we spend large amounts of money on their deaths .Whydon’t’ we help them when they are alive?”
Later that evening , Mr. Smith and I began to talk again .This is what he told me .
This is a stranger story , but a true one . It has been a secret between me and three friends for many years .
A long time ago , when I was a very young artist , I moved from place to place in France . I painted pictures of the beautiful country around me .After some time, I was joined by two other young painters , Claude Frere and Carl Boulander . We loved our work , and we enjoyed living together.
We were very poor , and one day we arrived in small northern town with no food or money . But we were saved by another young artist .His name was Francois Millet .He wasn’t a famous artist then , of course He was the same as us .He became the fourth person in ourgroup .We laughed and sang and painted piles of pictures .For two years we lived on a few vegetables each day , but we were happy .
Finally , one day , Claude said , “Boys , we’ve come to the end . We don’t have any money .We have no more vegetables , and nobody will buy our painting . We need a plan or we will die here with our beautiful work around us.”
“It’s terrible,” said Carl . “Ourpaintings are good . Some of them – like Millet’s Angelus- are great , but we don’t have any customers for them. ”
“You can have my Angelus for some bread and cheese,” said Francois Millet.
“But wait,” said Carl . “I have a plan that will make us rich.”
“You’re crazy,” said Claude “Lie down until you feel better .”
“Be quiet!” said Millet . “Let’s hear about Carl’s plan.”
“OK , think about greatartists from the past . When did they become famous? During their lives or after their deaths?”
“Almost always after their deaths,” answered Millet.
“So , one of us must die .” Carl said this very quietly , so we forgot to jump . But then we pushed him to the ground .
“Listen!” he shouted . “The dead man will become famous . And then all four of us will live as rich men.”
“What are you talkingabout ?” asked Claude .
“One of us will stay here and continue to paint,” said Carl. “We’ll need a great pile of work . The other three will travel around France and tell people about our poor , sick friend . We’ll even sell a few of this friend’s smaller painting . People will know his name and begin to talk about him . Then he will die . We’ll carry him to his last resting place ....