ant ear. But such talents were of little avail.
That infinite source of assistance which I usually speak of as "a lady
attached to the establishment," also failed on this occasion. She who
accompanies me through life for better and for worse, and whose
blandishments European children have ever acknowledged to be
irresistible, could gain but momentary influence over this American
child. But--well, I could not help it--I loved that boy; I admired his
spirit. How should he, at his tender age, know that an artist is a
superior, privileged being, to be treated accordingly? At all hours of
the day Robert was delightfully bright, but his _'cuteness_ seemed
sharpened as bedtime approached. Not that he objected, as most children
do, to going to bed, but, however sleepy he was, his spirit of
resistance seemed somehow to revive when the moment came to recite his
simple prayer. On one occasion all went smoothly as long as he prayed
for his father and mother, his brothers and sisters, but when it came
to his uncles and aunts and to their numerous offspring, he made a
decided stand, putting it plainly to his mother, "I say, _m[=a]mma_, why
can't they pray for their own crowd?" Another time, there had been in
the course of the day a distinct difference of opinion between Robert
and his mother on the advisability of his going out sleighing. He gave
in with unwonted docility, but when the evening came and the fond mother
folded her hands and knelt by his bedside, he shook his head, and said,
"No, _m[=a]mma_; no sleigh--no prayers!"

It was with some impatience that I expected the arrival of Mr. Morse,
for whenever Robert was particularly untractable during what, by
courtesy, was called the sitting, his mother would say, "Wait till his
father comes; he knows how to manage him." After a fortnight that father
came, and he and I at once struck up a friendship which promised to
last, and which ever since has kept its promise. He was a fine and
prepossessing specimen of the free-born American citizen. Six feet
something in height, strong and straight as they are reared under the
guiding brightness and the protecting shadow of the Stars and Stripes.
Under his eye I was to put the final touches to Robert's portrait. I
hopefully started work, but, alas! where was the paternal authority I
had relied upon to get a view of that hand that was dragging the
toboggan across the snow, and that foot on which rested the main action
of the figure? Robert _