ur friend, "Colonel" James S. Norton, in what the rural paragrapher
would have described as "the most felicitous effort of his life," and
the wonderful collection was commended to Mr. Larned's grateful
preservation by the judgment of Mr. Henry Field, whose own choice
selection of paintings is the most valued possession of the Chicago Art
Institute. Mr. Field testified that he recognized everyone of the
amazing reproductions from their resemblance, grotesque in the main, to
the originals in the Walters gallery, with which he was familiar.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE DRESS-MAKER.
(Hand-drawn "SINGER" sewing machine.)
_From a drawing by Eugene Field._]

It was for this occasion that Field composed and recited his remarkable
German poem, entitled "Der Niebelrungen und der Schlabbergasterfeldt."
From the manuscript copy in my scrap-book I give the original version
of this extraordinary production, which was copied in the Illinois
Staats Zeitung and went the rounds of the German press in all the
dignity of German text and with a variety of serious criticisms truly
comical:

_DER NIEBELRUNGEN UND DER SCHLABBERGASTERFELDT

(Narratively)

Ein Niebelrungen schlossen gold
Gehabt gehaben Richter weiss
Ein Schlabbergasterfeldt un Sold
Gehaben Meister treulich heiss
"Ich dich! Ich dich!" die Maedchein tzwei
"Ich dich!" das Niebelrungen drei.

(Tragically)

Die Turnverein ist lieb und dicht
Zum Fest und lieben kleiner Geld,
Der Niebelrungen picht ein Bricht--
Und hitt das Schlabbergasterfeldt!
"Ich dich! Ich dich!" die Maedchein schreit
Und so das Schlabbergaster deit!

(Plaintively)

Ach! weh das Niebelrungen spott
Ach! weh das Maedchein Turnverein
Und unser Meister lieben Gott--
Ach! weh das Weinerwurst und Wein!
Ach! weh das Bricht zum kleiner Geld--
Ach! weh das Schlabbergasterfeldt!_

Ever after this Walters gallery incident it was my duty, so he thought,
to keep Field's desk supplied with inks, not only of every color of the
rainbow, but with lake-white, gold, silver, and bronze, and any other
kind which his whim deemed necessary to give eccentric emphasis to some
line, word or letter in whatever he chanced to be composing. His
peremptory requests were generally preferred in writing, addressed "For
the Lusty Knight, Sir Slosson Thompson, Office," and delivered by his
grinning minion, the office factotum. Sometimes they were in verse, as
in the following: