The Model Millionaire Story Hindi Explanation – ICSE Class 9 English

Read the complete Hindi translation of Oscar WildeтАЩs story тАЬThe Model MillionaireтАЭ from the ICSE Class 9 English textbook, Treasure Chest. This translation serves as a valuable resource for both students and teachers, providing a clear and accurate Hindi rendition to enhance understanding and offer language support..

Unless one is wealthy there is no use in being a charming fellow.  Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed.  The poor should be practical and prosaic.  It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating.

These are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never realised.  Poor Hughie!  Intellectually, we must admit, he was not of much importance.  He never said a brilliant or even an ill-natured thing in his life.  But then he was wonderfully good-looking, with his crisp brown hair, his clear-cut profile, and his grey eyes.  

He was as popular with men as he was with women and he had every accomplishment except that of making money.  His father had bequeathed him his cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War in fifteen volumes.  

Hughie hung the first over his looking-glass, put the second on a shelf between RuffтАЩs Guide and BaileyтАЩs Magazine, and lived on two hundred a year that an old aunt allowed him.  

He had tried everything.  He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months; but what was a butterfly to do among bulls and bears?  He had been a tea-merchant for a little longer, but had soon tired of pekoe and souchong.  

Then he had tried selling dry sherry.  That did not answer; the sherry was a little too dry.  Ultimately he became nothing, a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.

To make matters worse, he was in love.  The girl he loved was Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel who had lost his temper and his digestion in India, and had never found either of them again.  

Laura adored him, and he was ready to kiss her shoe-strings.  They were the handsomest couple in London, and had not a penny-piece between them.  The Colonel was very fond of Hughie, but would not hear of any engagement.

тАШCome to me, my boy, when you have got ten thousand pounds of your own, and we will see about it,тАЩ he used to say; and Hughie looked very glum in those days, and had to go to Laura for consolation.

One morning, as he was on his way to Holland Park, where the Mertons lived, he dropped in to see a great friend of his, Alan Trevor.  Trevor was a painter.  Indeed, few people escape that nowadays.  But he was also an artist, and artists are rather rare. 

Personally he was a strange rough fellow, with a freckled face and a red ragged beard.  However, when he took up the brush he was a real master, and his pictures were eagerly sought after.  

He had been very much attracted by Hughie at first, it must be acknowledged, entirely on account of his personal charm.  

тАШThe only people a painter should know,тАЩ he used to say, тАШare people who are b├кte and beautiful, people who are an artistic pleasure to look at and an intellectual repose to talk to.  Men who are dandies and women who are darlings rule the world, at least they should do so.тАЩ  

However, after he got to know Hughie better, he liked him quite as much for his bright, buoyant spirits and his generous, reckless nature, and had given him the permanent entr├йe to his studio.

When Hughie came in he found Trevor putting the finishing touches to a wonderful life-size picture of a beggar-man.  The beggar himself was standing on a raised platform in a corner of the studio. 

He was a wizened old man, with a face like wrinkled parchment, and a most piteous expression.  Over his shoulders was flung a coarse brown cloak, all tears and tatters; his thick boots were patched and cobbled, and with one hand he leant on a rough stick, while with the other he held out his battered hat for alms.

тАШWhat an amazing model!тАЩ whispered Hughie, as he shook hands with his friend.

тАШAn amazing model?тАЩ shouted Trevor at the top of his voice; тАШI should think so!  Such beggars as he are not to be met with every day.  A trouvaille, mon cher; a living Velasquez!  My stars! what an etching Rembrandt would have made of him!тАЩ

тАШPoor old chap!тАЩ said Hughie, тАШhow miserable he looks!  But I suppose, to you painters, his face is his fortune?тАЩ

тАШCertainly,тАЩ replied Trevor, тАШyou donтАЩt want a beggar to look happy, do you?тАЩ

тАШHow much does a model get for sitting?тАЩ asked Hughie, as he found himself a comfortable seat on a divan.

тАШA shilling an hour.тАЩ

тАШAnd how much do you get for your picture, Alan?тАЩ

тАШOh, for this I get two thousand!тАЩ

тАШPounds?тАЩ

тАШGuineas.  Painters, poets, and physicians always get guineas.тАЩ

тАШWell, I think the model should have a percentage,тАЩ cried Hughie, laughing; тАШthey work quite as hard as you do.тАЩ

тАШNonsense, nonsense!  Why, look at the trouble of laying on the paint alone, and standing all day long at oneтАЩs easel!  ItтАЩs all very well, Hughie, for you to talk, but I assure you that there are moments when Art almost attains to the dignity of manual labour.  But you mustnтАЩt chatter; IтАЩm very busy.  Smoke a cigarette, and keep quiet.тАЩ

After some time the servant came in, and told Trevor that the framemaker wanted to speak to him.

тАШDonтАЩt run away, Hughie,тАЩ he said, as he went out, тАШI will be back in a moment.тАЩ

The old beggar-man took advantage of TrevorтАЩs absence to rest for a moment on a wooden bench that was behind him.  He looked so forlorn and wretched that Hughie could not help pitying him, and felt in his pockets to see what money he had.  All he could find was a sovereign and some coppers.  

тАШPoor old fellow,тАЩ he thought to himself, тАШhe wants it more than I do, but it means no hansoms for a fortnightтАЩ; and he walked across the studio and slipped the sovereign into the beggarтАЩs hand.

The old man started, and a faint smile flitted across his withered lips.  тАШThank you, sir,тАЩ he said, тАШthank you.тАЩ

Then Trevor arrived, and Hughie took his leave, blushing a little at what he had done.  He spent the day with Laura, got a charming scolding for his extravagance, and had to walk home.

That night he strolled into the Palette Club about eleven oтАЩclock, and found Trevor sitting by himself in the smoking-room drinking hock and seltzer.

тАШWell, Alan, did you get the picture finished all right?тАЩ he said, as he lit his cigarette.

тАШFinished and framed, my boy!тАЩ answered Trevor; тАШand, by the bye, you have made a conquest.  That old model you saw is quite devoted to you.  I had to tell him all about you тАУ who you are, where you live, what your income is, what prospects you have тАУ тАЩ

тАШMy dear Alan,тАЩ cried Hughie, тАШI shall probably find him waiting for me when I go home.  But of course you are only joking.  Poor old wretch!  I wish I could do something for him.  I think it is dreadful that any one should be so miserable.  I have got heaps of old clothes at home тАУ do you think he would care for any of them?  Why, his rags were falling to bits.тАЩ

тАШBut he looks splendid in them,тАЩ said Trevor.  тАШI wouldnтАЩt paint him in a frock coat for anything.  What you call rags I call romance.  What seems poverty to you is picturesqueness to me.  However, IтАЩll tell him of your offer.тАЩ

тАШAlan,тАЩ said Hughie seriously, тАШyou painters are a heartless lot.тАЩ

тАШAn artistтАЩs heart is his head,тАЩ replied Trevor; тАШand besides, our business is to realise the world as we see it, not to reform it as we know it.┬а ├А chacun son m├йtier.┬а And now tell me how Laura is.┬а The old model was quite interested in her.тАЩ

тАШYou donтАЩt mean to say you talked to him about her?тАЩ said Hughie.

тАШCertainly I did.  He knows all about the relentless colonel, the lovely Laura, and the ┬г10,000.тАЩ

тАШYou told that old beggar all my private affairs?тАЩ cried Hughie, looking very red and angry.

тАШMy dear boy,тАЩ said Trevor, smiling, тАШthat old beggar, as you call him, is one of the richest men in Europe.  He could buy all London to-morrow without overdrawing his account.  He has a house in every capital, dines off gold plate, and can prevent Russia going to war when he chooses.тАЩ

тАШWhat on earth do you mean?тАЩ exclaimed Hughie.

тАШWhat I say,тАЩ said Trevor.┬а тАШThe old man you saw to-day in the studio was Baron Hausberg.┬а He is a great friend of mine, buys all my pictures and that sort of thing, and gave me a commission a month ago to paint him as a beggar. Que voulez-vous?┬а La fantaisie dтАЩun millionnaire!┬а┬а

And I must say he made a magnificent figure in his rags, or perhaps I should say in my rags; they are an old suit I got in Spain.тАЩ

тАШBaron Hausberg!тАЩ cried Hughie.  тАШGood heavens!  I gave him a sovereign!тАЩ and he sank into an armchair the picture of dismay.

тАШGave him a sovereign!тАЩ shouted Trevor, and he burst into a roar of laughter.  тАШMy dear boy, youтАЩll never see it again.  Son affaire cтАЩest lтАЩargent des autres.тАЩ

Son affaire cтАЩest lтАЩargent des autres.

тАШI think you might have told me, Alan,тАЩ said Hughie sulkily, тАШand not have let me make such a fool of myself.тАЩ

тАШWell, to begin with, Hughie,тАЩ said Trevor, тАШit never entered my mind that you went about distributing alms in that reckless way.  I can understand your kissing a pretty model, but your giving a sovereign to an ugly one тАУ by Jove, no!

Besides, the fact is that I really was not at home to-day to any one; and when you came in I didnтАЩt know whether Hausberg would like his name mentioned.  You know he wasnтАЩt in full dress.тАЩ

тАШWhat a duffer he must think me!тАЩ said Hughie.

тАШNot at all.  He was in the highest spirits after you left; kept chuckling to himself and rubbing his old wrinkled hands together.  I couldnтАЩt make out why he was so interested to know all about you; but I see it all now.  HeтАЩll invest your sovereign for you, Hughie, pay you the interest every six months, and have a capital story to tell after dinner.тАЩ

тАШI am an unlucky devil,тАЩ growled Hughie.  тАШThe best thing I can do is to go to bed; and, my dear Alan, you mustnтАЩt tell any one.  I shouldnтАЩt dare show my face in the Row.тАЩ

тАШNonsense!  It reflects the highest credit on your philanthropic spirit, Hughie.  And donтАЩt run away.  Have another cigarette, and you can talk about Laura as much as you like.тАЩ

However, Hughie wouldnтАЩt stop, but walked home, feeling very unhappy, and leaving Alan Trevor in fits of laughter.

The next morning, as he was at breakfast, the servant brought him up a card on which was written, тАШMonsieur Gustave Naudin, de la part de M. le Baron Hausberg.тАЩ  тАШI suppose he has come for an apology,тАЩ said Hughie to himself; and he told the servant to show the visitor up.

An old gentleman with gold spectacles and grey hair came into the room, and said, in a slight French accent, тАШHave I the honour of addressing Monsieur Erskine?тАЩ

Hughie bowed. 

тАШI have come from Baron Hausberg,тАЩ he continued.  тАШThe Baron тАУ тАЩ

тАШI beg, sir, that you will offer him my sincerest apologies,тАЩ stammered Hughie.

тАШThe Baron,тАЩ said the old gentleman with a smile, тАШhas commissioned me to bring you this letterтАЩ; and he extended a sealed envelope.

On the outside was written, тАШA wedding present to Hugh Erskine and Laura Merton, from an old beggar,тАЩ and inside was a cheque for ┬г10,000.

When they were married Alan Trevor was the best man, and the Baron made a speech at the wedding breakfast.

тАШMillionaire models,тАЩ remarked Alan, тАШare rare enough; but, by Jove, model millionaires are rarer still!тАЩ


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