kind cannot be too high," said Mr. Horter.

A week or two after this, when I arrived at home one afternoon, my wife
told me that there was a present for me in the dining-room. As such
things were not common, I hurried in to see what it was. I found a very
large flat package, tied up in brown paper, and on it a card with my
name and a long inscription. The latter was to the effect that my
associates of the Hook and Ladder Company, desirous of testifying their
gratitude to the originator and promoter of the raffle scheme, took
pleasure in presenting him with the accompanying work of art, which,
when hung upon the walls of his house, would be a perpetual reminder to
him of the great and good work he had done for the Association.

I cannot deny that this pleased me much.

"Well!" I exclaimed to my wife, "it is very seldom that a man gets any
thanks for his gratuitous efforts in behalf of his fellow-beings; and
although I must say that my services in raising money for the
Association deserved recognition, I did not expect that the members
would do themselves the justice to make me a present."

Unwrapping the package, I discovered, to my intense disgust, a copy of
the Reversible Landscape! My first thought was that some of the members,
for a joke, had taken down one of the paintings from our meeting-room
and had sent it to me; but, on carefully examining the canvas and frame,
I was quite certain that this picture had never been nailed to a wall.
It was evidently a new and fresh copy of the painting of which I had
been assured no more would be produced. I must admit that I had felt a
certain pride in decorating our hall with the style of picture that
could not be seen elsewhere; and, moreover, I greatly dislike to be
overreached in business matters, and my wrath against the manufacturer
of high art entirely overpowered and dissipated any little resentment I
might have felt against my waggish fellow-members who had sent me the
painting.

Early the next morning I went direct to the art-factory, and was just
about entering when my attention was attracted by a prominent picture
in the window. I stepped back to look at it. It was our reversible
landscape, mounted upon an easel, and labelled "A Morning Scene." While
I examined it to assure myself that it was really the landscape with
which I was so familiar, it was turned upside down by some concealed
machinery, and appeared labelled, "An Evening Scene." At the foot of the
ease