he would never have exercised an extraordinary influence; but he was a
singularly interesting appearance as well and an admirable talker
gifted with picturesque phrases and a most caustic wit.

Oscar sat at his feet and imbibed as much as he could of the new
æsthetic gospel. He even ventured to annex some of the master's most
telling stories and thus came into conflict with his teacher.

One incident may find a place here.

The art critic of _The Times_, Mr. Humphry Ward, had come to see an
exhibition of Whistler's pictures. Filled with an undue sense of his
own importance, he buttonholed the master and pointing to one picture
said:

"That's good, first-rate, a lovely bit of colour; but that, you know,"
he went on, jerking his finger over his shoulder at another picture,
"that's bad, drawing all wrong ... bad!"

"My dear fellow," cried Whistler, "you must never say that this
painting's good or that bad, never! Good and bad are not terms to be
used by you; but say, I like this, and I dislike that, and you'll be
within your right. And now come and have a whiskey for you're sure to
like that."

Carried away by the witty fling, Oscar cried:

"I wish I had said that."

"You will, Oscar, you will," came Whistler's lightning thrust.