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There's a portrate of a funny old man that hangs at the end of the parlor, and I always think he's watching me. When I smile, he seems to smile, and when I'm lonsum, he doesn't look jolly at all. There's five people in this house beside me. There's my two aunts, and three servants, but no one makes any noise, and oh, sometimes I WISH they would.
"Aunt Lois is to have her portrate painted, and I'm to go with her to the artist's studyo. "Aunt Rose just came in, and said, 'That is a long letter. Shall I help you with the spelling? I didn't let her. I know some of the words are funny, but I don't want her to see this letter. "I haven't said anything norty in it, only about how quiet and lonsum it is, but she mite not like that.
"I am learning to paint in oils, sir." "And that porTRATE, overhead, which is your father, I presume; is that in oils, too?" "Yes, sir. There are very few pictures, of that size, in water-colours, I believe. Here is a miniature, in water-colours, which Mrs. Van Horne lent me; I am taking a large picture, in oils, from it." Mr. Taylor examined the miniature.
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