had met at Paris. Mr. Van Brick told him he
would bring his friend Livingston round to buy a painting. Mr. Pinchfip
said that it would afford him pleasure to call again. Mr. Van Brick gave
the artist his card, and shook hands with him:...and the judges were
passing out, when Legume asked them to take one final look at the
painting to see if it had not the _most work_ on it. Mr. Van Brick
instantly turned toward it, and running over it with his eye, burst into
an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

'If the others beat that, I am mistaken,' said he. 'Look at there!'
calling the attention of Uncle Bill and Mr. Pinchfip to a fold of a
curtain on which was painted, in small letters,

'MOST WORK.'

'I say, Browne,' continued Mr. Van Brick, 'he is too many for you; and
if the one who puts 'most work' on his painting is to win the five
hundred dollars, Legume's chance is good.'

'Very ingenious,' said Mr. Pinchfip, 'very; it is a legitimate play upon
words. But legally, I can not affirm that I am aware of any precedent
for awarding Mr. Browne's money to Monsieur Legume on this score.'

'We will have to make a precedent, then,' spoke Van Brick, 'and do it
illegally, if we find that he deserves the money. But time flies, and we
have the other artists to visit.'

They next went to Bagswell's studio, in the Viccolo dei Greci, and found
him in a large room, well furnished, and having a solidly comfortable
look; the walls ornamented with paintings, sketches, costumes, armor;
while in a good light under its one large window, was his painting. They
found he had left his beaten track of historical subjects, and in the
_genre_ school had an interior of an Italian country inn--a
kitchen-scene. It represented a stout, handsome country girl, in
Ciociara costume, kneading a large trough of dough, while another girl
was filling pans with that which was already kneaded, and two or three
other females were carrying them to an oven, tended by a man who was
piling brush-wood on the fire. The painting was very life-like, and for
the short time employed on it, well finished. It wanted the fire and
dash of Legume's painting, but its truthfulness to life evidently made a
deep impression on Uncle Bill. Stuck on with a sketching-tack to one
corner was a piece of paper, on which was marked the number of hours
employed each day on the work; it summed up fifty-four hours, or an
average each day of nearly eight hours' work on it.

Mr. Pinchfip's note