nteresting. It is Carville, I believe, Mr. Francis
Lord of the New York Press."

It was a sinister face that we looked on, sketched on the impressed
margin, and very different from the photos in the papers. The head had
been caught in an attitude of leaning against a wall, so that the
salience of the jaw, the flare of the nostrils, and the white of the eye
were accentuated sharply. The brow was high, but (I fancied) pinched
near the crown, and the large, cavernous nose gave the whole face an
expression of bird-like rapacity that was corroborated by the full
curved lips. And in the eye I fancied also that I detected a crazed
look.

"Good gracious!" said Bill. "What a bad-looking man!"

I was silent, merely returning the print so that my friend might study
the weaknesses of a brother-artist. We agreed that the ink had dragged
in one corner. Bill handed me the painter-cousin's letter.

"High Wigborough,
"Essex.

"DEAR BILL--

"I was in the village this afternoon and called at the
post-office for some stamps, and the old lady who keeps the
place, which is about seven feet square, and hardly high enough
to yawn in, was sticking up a fresh notice about the Xmas mails,
giving the latest dates for foreign parts. This reminded me I
owed you a letter, and here it is with tons of good wishes to
everybody for a happy time and no end of prosperity in the
coming year. When are you coming over to spend a holiday with
us? You'd love this part of the world. I'm sure you'd love the
old lady at the post-office as much as you do the young lady at
the post-office over there. She's a beautiful old person,
really. She lives in a cottage set well back from the road, with
rose-trees on each side of a narrow, flagged path, and
honeysuckle all over the house right up to the thatch, which is
quite a yard thick. I have a water-colour of her, sitting
outside her door, with the Royal Arms and _Georgius Rex_ just
showing over her cap, and a fat tabby cat asleep on the
threshold. It was late summer when I did it, and the air was
warm gold with purple shadows. I know it is a detestable trick
to talk painter's shop, but I can't help it sometimes. I am
reminded of this by the experiences I've had recently with my
friend Ca