who paint and chisel for the mere love of it, and for whom you
find it so easy to lisp out 'charming,' or 'wonderfully pretty,' or
'remarkably nice.' Take my warning in good part, you know I mean it
well."

He spoke the last words with a cordial, manly feeling, of which his
voice was peculiarly capable, and which was always certain to secure him
the confidence even of the recalcitrant.

The artists exchanged greetings and hand-shakings and left the hall; a
slave carried away the wine-jar and wiped the table, on which Pontius
proceeded to lay out his sketches and plans. But he was not alone, for
Pollux was soon at his side, and with a comical expression of pathos and
laying his finger on his nose, he said:

"I have come out of my cage to say something more to you."

"Well?"

"The hour is approaching when I may hope to repay the beneficent deeds,
which, at various times, you have done to my interior. My mother will
to-morrow morning, set before you that dish of cabbage. It could not be
done sooner, because the only perfect sausage-maker, the very king of
his trade, prepares these savory cylinders only once a week. A few hours
ago he completed the making of the sausages, and to-morrow morning my
mother will warm up for our breakfasts the noble mess, which she is
preparing for us this evening--for, as I have told you, it is in its
warmed-up state that it is the ideal of its kind. What will follow by
way of sweets we shall owe again to my mother's art; but the cheering
and invigorating element--I mean the wine that I drives dull care away,
we owe to my sister."

"I will come," said Pontius, "if my guest leaves me an hour free, and I
shall enjoy the excellent dish. But what does a gay bird like you know
of dull care?"

"The words fit into the metre," replied Pollux. "I inherit from
my father--who, when he is not gate-keeping, sings and recites--a
troublesome tendency whenever anything incites me to drift into rhythm."

"But to-day you have been more silent than usual, and yet you seemed
to me to be extraordinarily content. Not your face only, but your whole
length--a good measure--from the sole of your foot to the crown of your
head was like a brimming cask of satisfaction."

"Well, there is much that is lovely in this world!" cried Pollux,
stretching himself comfortably and lifting his arms with his hands
clasped far above his head towards heaven.

"Has anything specially pleasant happened to you?"

"There is n