"A Pictur-shew," sed he, "with a swoiree between, and all the
fashionables of this interestin location there."

"Don't care if I duz," sed I, "perwided u go the Ticket."

"Sertingly," sed he. "Mr. Ward, you are my guest for the evening."

So we put on our go-to-meetings, and yaller kid-skins, and sot off.
There was a purty tidy fixin of shrubs and statooary as we went in
(but nuthin ekal to the Bowery Saloon, New York!), and stairs up and
stairs down, and gals in opera clokes ascendin and D-scendin.

First we go up into a big room with a blaze o' lite and a crowd of
cumpany. The Squire whispers to me, and sez he'll pint out the
lokial celebrities. At the end of the room is a great pictur,
representin a stout femail on a tarnation dark back-ground. The
critters scrowded up to it, and looked on in hor. Presently I feels
the Squire nudging me.

"Do you see that individooal," sed he, "with Hyacinthian curls, and
his eye in a fine frenzy rollin! That's the great art critic, who
lays down the lor for Bristol and ets vicinity."

So I pushed up cloas, and sed I to the creteck, "Wall, Mister, what
dew think of that air piece of canvas staining?"

At first he Ide me loftily, and made no reply. At last he spoak
(with grate deliberashun). "Not yet have I mastered the pictur. I'm
a studyin of the onperfectly-seen vizionoimies behind. Them guards
is a phernomenon. The soul of the painter has projected itself