AN © ARTIST’S ROOM.” 55

one sort of table d’héte, we sat down, when, every
individual looking upon me as a missionary priest,
on account of my hair, which in those days flowed
loosely on my shoulders, 1 was asked to say grace,
which I did with a fervent spirit.

‘Daylight returned. I visited the groves and
woods around with my companion, returned, break-
fasted, and went to the store, where, notwithstand-
ing my ardent desire to begin my task, it was ten
oclock before the sitter was ready. But, reader,
allow me to describe the artist's room. See me
ascending a crazy flight of steps, from the back
part of a storeroom into a large garret, extending
over the store and counting room, and mark me
looking round to see how the light could be stopped
from obtruding on me through no less than four
windows facing each other at right angles. Then
follow me, scrutinising the corners, and finding in
one a cat nursing her young, among a heap of rags
intended for the paper-mill. ‘Two hogsheads filled
with oats, a parcel of Dutch toys carelessly thrown
on the floor, a large drum and a bassoon in another
part, fur caps hanging along the wall, and the
portable bed of the munerchant’s clerk swinging like
a hammock near the centre, together with some
rolls of sole leather, made up the picture. I saw
all this at a glance, and closing the extra windows
with blankets, I soon procured @ painter's laght.