g behind the track of the
L road, with a driving rain pouring in between the interstices of light.
Years after this picture was picked up by a collector from Kansas City
at an old furniture sale and hung among his gems, but this morning its
merits were not very much in evidence.

"I see that you occasionally exhibit a painting in your window for sale.
Do you buy originals?"

"Now and again," said the man indifferently--"not often. What have you?"

"I have an oil here that I painted not so long ago. I occasionally do
these things. I thought maybe you would like to buy it."

The proprietor stood by indifferently while Eugene untied the string,
took off the paper and stood the picture up for inspection. It was
striking enough in its way but it did not appeal to him as being
popular. "I don't think it's anything that I could sell here," he
remarked, shrugging his shoulders. "It's good, but we don't have much
call for pictures of any kind. If it were a straight landscape or a
marine or a figure of some kind--. Figures sell best. But this--I doubt
if I could get rid of it. You might leave it on sale if you want to.
Somebody might like it. I don't think I'd care to buy it."

"I don't care to leave it on sale," replied Eugene irritably. Leave one
of his pictures in a cheap side-street art store--and that on sale! He
would not. He wanted to say something cutting in reply but he curbed his
welling wrath to ask,

"How much do you think it would be worth if you did want it?"

"Oh," replied the proprietor, pursing his lips reflectively, "not more
than ten dollars. We can't ask much for anything we have on view here.
The Fifth Avenue stores take all the good trade."

Eugene winced. Ten dollars! Why, what a ridiculous sum! What was the use
of coming to a place like this anyhow? He could do better dealing with
the art directors or the better stores. But where were they? Whom could
he deal with? Where were there any stores much better than this outside
the large ones which he had already canvassed. He had better keep his
pictures and go to work now at something else. He only had thirty-five
of them all told and at this rate he would have just three hundred and
fifty dollars when they were all gone. What good would that do him? His
mood and this preliminary experience convinced him that they could not
be sold for any much greater sum. Fifteen dollars or less would probably
be offered and he would be no better off at the end. His