, investigating every
drawer, playing on the piano, or sleeping on the sofa. Though he was
told never to touch the hall stove, he would go and open all the
draughts and make it red-hot. Then we adopted the plan of locking up
every part of the apartment but the kitchen. He amused himself burning
holes through the pantry shelves, when the cook was out, and boring
holes, with a gimlet, through a handsomely carved bread board. One day,
in making up a spare bed for a friend, under the mattress were found
innumerable letters he was supposed to have mailed at different times.
When we reprimanded him for his pranks he would look at us steadily, but
sorrowfully, and, immediately afterward, we would hear him dancing down
the corridor singing, "Safe in the Arms of Jesus." If he had given heed
to one-half we said to him, he would have been safer in our hands than
in those of his imaginary protector. He turned out a thief, an
unmitigated liar, a dancing dervish, and, through all our experiences of
six weeks with him, his chief reading was his Bible and Sunday-school
books. The experience, however, was not lost on Theodore--he has never
suggested a boy since, and a faithful daughter of Eve reigns in his
stead.

During the summer I was in the hands of two artists, Miss Anna Klumpke,
who painted my portrait, and Paul Bartlett, who molded my head in clay.
To shorten the operation, sometimes I sat for both at the same time.
Although neither was fully satisfied with the results of their labors,
we had many pleasant hours together, discussing their art, their early
trials, and artists in general. Each had good places in the _Salon_, and
honorable mention that year. It is sad to see so many American girls and
boys, who have no genius for painting or sculpture, spending their days
in garrets, in solitude and poverty, with the vain hope of earning
distinction. Women of all classes are awaking to the necessity of
self-support, but few are willing to do the ordinary useful work for
which they are fitted. In the _Salon_ that year six thousand pictures
were offered, and only two thousand accepted, and many of these were
"skyed."

It was lovely on our balcony at night to watch the little boats, with
their lights, sailing up and down the Seine, especially the day of the
great annual fete,--the 14th of July,--when the whole city was
magnificently illuminated. We drove about the city on several occasions
at midnight, to see the life--men, women, an