she was afraid of displeasing him, as he had always made such a mystery
of his home. "You might have sent this gentleman!" I ventured to
suggest.

"Ah," cried the gentleman, "he admires the Signora Serafina, but he
wouldn't admire me." And then, confidentially, with his finger on his
nose, "He's a purist!"

I was about to withdraw, after having promised that I would inform the
Signora Serafina of my friend's condition, when her companion, who had
risen from table and girded his loins apparently for the onset, grasped
me gently by the arm, and led me before the row of statuettes. "I
perceive by your conversation, signore, that you are a patron of the
arts. Allow me to request your honourable attention for these modest
products of my own ingenuity. They are brand-new, fresh from my atelier,
and have never been exhibited in public. I have brought them here to
receive the verdict of this dear lady, who is a good critic, for all she
may pretend to the contrary. I am the inventor of this peculiar style of
statuette--of subject, manner, material, everything. Touch them, I pray
you; handle them freely--you needn't fear. Delicate as they look, it is
impossible they should break! My various creations have met with great
success. They are especially admired by Americans. I have sent them all
over Europe--to London, Paris, Vienna! You may have observed some little
specimens in Paris, on the Boulevard, in a shop of which they constitute
the specialty. There is always a crowd about the window. They form a
very pleasing ornament for the mantel-shelf of a gay young bachelor, for
the boudoir of a pretty woman. You couldn't make a prettier present to a
person with whom you wished to exchange a harmless joke. It is not
classic art, signore, of course; but, between ourselves, isn't classic
art sometimes rather a bore? Caricature, burlesque, _la charge_, as the