unusually close together, and the fifth in a distant corner:
this latter, in the opinion of the lookers-on, would surely prove
refractory. After some moments of consideration, with pencil suspended
and eye attentive, the artist commenced drawing. In ten minutes the
sketch was finished. It was an angel: her upturned head took in the
highest of the group of dots; one hand hanging by her side the next;
a knee the third; and the flowing hem of her robe the fourth; but the
fifth in the corner--what could reach it? With a touch of the pencil
the angel's other hand appeared flinging up a censer attached to
a long chain, which struck the solitary dot like a shot amid
acclamations. To show that he did not consider the feat a _tour de
force_, the artist turned the paper, and taking the same marks drew
a devil in an entirely different attitude, the difficult point being
reached by his pitchfork. This gave rise to a learned discussion as
to whether the devil's emblematic pitchfork was not a descendant of
Neptune's trident, which I did not stay to hear, as Afra whispered she
wanted to present me to Monsieur C----, and I was taken to a gentleman
of no great height, but of such wondrous width that Nature must have
formed him in a most generous mood.

"You are American?" said this wide man to me as I was introduced, and
without waiting for a reply went on: "I like your country-people:
they admire frankly. Show them a picture, they exclaim, 'Beautiful!
magnificent! lovely! exquisite! name your price;' and they buy it.
Here the public look and look. 'Not bad,' they say, 'but the color is
from Veronese, and that attitude is surely Raphael's. What a mine that
man's genius has been to ambitious but less gifted artists!' and so
they go on. I wish they would let the dead rest in peace. Are you
acquainted with Mr. B---- of New York?"