u may put me down for
one dozen on those terms."

"Well, won't they be a sensation, when we show them in Washington?" said
Will, viewing the picture critically. "I really think I will make it the
subject of an oil painting."

"And I want that painting at any price, if you will ever sell it," cried
the Doctor.

"I will paint one for each of the company--except Sing. That apathetic
heathen would not care half so much for it as he would for a highly
colored chromo."

"Don't be so hard upon poor Sing. I am sure that he would be just
delighted with one of those paintings," said Mattie.

"Call him in and let's see. If there is a particle of the aesthetic
about him, I have failed thus far to see it," declared Will.

So Mattie called Sing from the kitchen. He looked so neat in his white
apron and cap that Will began to fear that he had slandered the poor
fellow. He was shown the photograph, and Mattie said:

"You sabe that picture, Sing?"

"Yes, me sabe."

"What is it?"

Sing grinned a moment as he looked slyly around upon, the company, and
answered:

"Allee samee makee foolee lound flagpole."

All roared with laughter.

"That is about what we did, and no mistake," said the Doctor, wiping his
eyes.

"Well, Sing," said Mattie, looking her very pleasantest at the wily
Mongolian, "I have called you in to prove that you heap likee pretty
things. Now, you would likee a pretty oil painting, big picture, allee
samee that?" pointing to the photograph.

Sing's face was a picture of indifference, and he said,

"Me no care."

"What! not care for beautiful oil painting?" cried Mattie, desperately,
seeing Will's eyes twinkling with fun and triumph. "Well, there is
something in the world that you think pretty, isn't there Sing?"

"O, yes!" promptly replied Sing, his face breaking out in smiles, "me
tinkee Miss Mattie heap pletty. Me heap likee Miss Mattie."

This open avowal of admiration was more than Mattie had bargained for,
and she blushed furiously. The whole party clapped their hands and
laughed, while Will fell upon the floor and rolled about in an ecstacy
of fun and laughter.

"Didn't I tell you, Mattie, that he was an incorrigible case?" cried
Will, as he assumed a sitting posture on the floor.

"And do you mean to say that Sing has no taste at all, simply because he
admires me?" said Mattie very severely.

"O, no! Mattie. I really admire Sing's taste, and acknowledge that I
have shamefully abused the