however, obliged to relinquish her art on account of ill-health.

Cranch's landscapes now adorn the walls of private houses; very largely
the houses of his numerous friends. He did not paint in the fashion of
the time, but like Millet followed a fashion of his own; and I do not
know of any of his pictures in public collections, although there are
many that deserve the honor. The best landscape of his that I have seen
was painted just before his last visit to Paris. It represents a low-
toned sunset like the "Two Oaks"; an autumnal scene on a narrow river,
with maples here and there upon its banks. The sky is covered by a dull
gray cloud, but in the west the sun shines through a low opening and
gives promise of a better day. The peculiar liquid effect of the setting
sun is wonderfully rendered, and the rich browns and russets of the
foliage lead up, as it were, like a flight of steps to this final glory,
--a restful and impressive scene. This landscape is not painted in the
smooth manner of the "Two Oaks," but with soft, flakelike touches which
slightly remind one of Murillo. Its coloring has the peculiarity that
artificial light wholly changes its character, whereas Cranch's
paintings, previous to 1875, appear much the same by electric light that
they do in daytime. It is called the "Home of the Wood Duck."

Between 1870 and 1880 he published a number of poems in the _Atlantic
Monthly_ as well as a longer piece called "Satan," for which it was
said by a certain wit that he received the devil's pay. His two books for
young folks, "The Last of the Huggermuggers" and "Kobboltozo," ought not
to be overlooked, for the illustrations in them are the only remains we
have of his rare pencil drawings, as good, if not better, than
Thackeray's drawings.

It is likely that the parents read these stories with more pleasure than