altogether. The American bear and bison, the cimmaron and the elk, the
wolf and the 'coon--where will they be a generation hence? Nowhere, save
in the possession of those persons who have to-day the opportunity and the
intelligence to decorate their rooms and parks with Mr. Kemeys's
inimitable bronzes. The opportunity is great--much greater, I should
think, than the intelligence necessary for availing ourselves of it; and
it is a unique opportunity. In other words, it lies within the power of
every cultivated family in the United States to enrich itself with a work
of art which is entirely American; which, as art, fulfils every
requirement; which is of permanent and increasing interest and value from
an ornamental point of view; and which is embodied in the most enduring of
artistic materials.

The studio in which Mr. Kemeys works--a spacious apartment--is, in
appearance, a cross between a barn-loft and a wigwam. Round the walls are
suspended the hides, the heads, and the horns of the animals which the
hunter has shot; and below are groups, single figures, and busts, modelled
by the artist, in plaster, terracotta, or clay. The colossal design of the
"Still Hunt"--an American panther crouching before its spring--was
modelled here, before being cast in bronze and removed to its present site
in Central Park. It is a monument of which New York and America may be
proud; for no such powerful and veracious conception of a wild animal has
ever before found artistic embodiment. The great cat crouches with head
low, extended throat, and ears erect. The shoulders are drawn far back,
the fore paws huddled beneath the jaws. The long, lithe back rises in an
arch in the middle, sinking thence to the haunches, while the angry tail
makes a strong curve along the ground to the right. The whole figure is
tense and compact with restrained and waiting power; the expression is
stealthy, pitiless, and terrible; it at once fascinates and astounds the
beholder. While Mr. Kemeys was modelling this animal, an incident occurred