a column I knew was mine.) 'Color is good,' he commented, an
appreciative twinkle in his eyes; 'pictures excellent, characterized
by broad, Sargent-like effects. Now this . . .t his judge you have
depicted . . . you, ah, draw from life, I presume?'

"'Rarely, your I Honor,' I answered. 'Composites, ideals, rather
. . . er, types, I may say.'

"'But you have color, sir, unmistakable color,' he continued.

"'That is splashed on afterward,' I explained.

"'This judge, then, is not modelled from life, as one might be led
to believe?'

"'No, your Honor.'

"'Ah, I see, merely a type of judicial wickedness?'

"'Nay, more, your Honor,' I said boldly, 'an ideal.'

"'Splashed with local color afterward? Ha! Good! And may I venture
to ask how much you received for this bit of work?'

"'Thirty dollars, your Honor.'

"'Hum, good!' And his tone abruptly changed. 'Young man, local color
is a bad thing. I find you guilty of it and sentence you to thirty
days' imprisonment, or, at your pleasure, impose a fine of thirty
dollars.'