at the time on her death-bed,
suffering from cancer, which the General was "exceedingly anxious" to
reproduce and issue to his Army, as he had "never yet been able to
secure a good photograph, although frequent attempts had been made by
eminent London photographers."

I must confirm, a confession I made some years ago to the editor of the
_Magazine of Art_ regarding some of the difficulties with which artists
illustrating books have to contend. In that I questioned whether authors
and artists worked sufficiently together. Few authors are as
conscientious as Dickens was, or, in fact, care to consult with their
illustrators at all. In operatic work the librettist and composer must
work hand in hand. Should not the artist do likewise?

Undoubtedly there are some writers who take great trouble to see their
subject from the artistic standpoint. One sensational writer with whom I
am acquainted will make a complete model in cardboard of his "Haunted
Grange," so as to avoid absurdities in the working out of the tale. The
"Blood-stained Tower" is therefore always in its place, and the
"Assassin's Door" and "Ghost's Window" do not change places, to the
bewilderment of the keen-witted reader. Many writers, on the other hand,
show an extraordinary carelessness, or, shall I say, agility? "Hilarity
Hall" or "Stucco Castle" is supposed to be a firm erection, capable of
withstanding storm, or, if necessary, siege; whereas the artist too
often detects the author turning it inside out and upside down to suit
his convenience, like the mechanical quick-change scenes in our modern
realistic dramas.

It may seem strange, but I have never found over-conscientiousness in
seeking to secure "local colour" meet with the slightest reward. Two
instances among many similar experiences which have fallen to my lot
will serve to show my ground for making this observation.

Those who have read Sir Walter Besant's delightful but little known "All
in a Garden Fair" (it is interesting to know that this was
semi-autobiographical, and that its original title was "All in a Garden
Green") will recollect the minute description of the locality in which
the opening scenes take place. The author and I "talked it over." He
told me the exact spot where the story was laid--a village a good many
miles from London. The next day, provided with exact information, my
wife and I went by train to the station nearest to the village in
question, and then, taking a "trap,