re not always responsible."

* * * * *

Mr. Chase came up for discussion once at a little party, and
Whistler's sister observed, "Mr. Chase amuses James, doesn't he,
James?" James, tapping his finger-tips together lightly: "Not often,
not often."

* * * * *

"I'm going over to London," said he once to Chase, "and there I shall
have a hansom made. It shall have a white body, yellow wheels, and
I'll have it lined with canary-colored satin. I'll petition the city
to let me carry one lamp on it, and on the lamp there will be a white
plume. I shall then be the only one."

He gave Mr. Chase some pretty hard digs. He said to him one time in
the heat of a discussion on some technical point: "Chase, I am not
arguing with you. I am telling you."

* * * * *

Reproved by Mr. Chase for antagonizing his friends, Whistler retorted:

"It is commonplace, not to say vulgar, to quarrel with your enemies.
Quarrel with your friends! That's the thing to do. Now be good!"

* * * * *

"The good Lord made one serious mistake," he rasped to Chase, in
Holland.

"What?"

"When he made Dutchmen."

* * * * *

When he had finished his portrait of Mr. Chase he stood off and
admired the work. "Beautiful! Beautiful!" was his comment. Chase, who
had irked under the queer companionship, retorted, "At least there's
nothing mean or modest about you!"

"Nothing mean and modest," he corrected. "I like that better! Nothing
mean _and_ modest! What a splendid epitaph that would make for me!
Stop a moment! I must put that down!"

* * * * *

During the Chase sittings, the creditors were always calling. Whistler
divined their several missions with much nicety by the tone of the
raps on the door.

A loud, business-like bang brought, out this comment:

"Psst! That's one and ten."

Later came another, not quite so vehement.

"Two and six," said Whistler. "Psst!"

"What on earth do you mean?" asked Chase.

"One pound ten shillings; two pounds six shillings! Vulgar tradesmen
with their bills, Colonel. They want payment. Oh, well!"

A gentle knock soon followed.

"Dear me," said Whistler, "that must be all of twenty! Poor fellow! I
really must do something for him. So sorry I'm not in."

* * * * *

Riding one day in a han