I finally
agree to make a trial; but I warn him that his anticipations about the
result will never be realised.

Sanguine and happy, my strange patron departs, and in due course I
receive the various articles he had specified. The pretty child serves
well enough as a model for the proportions of the figure, and attired in
the garb of her late lamented playmate, she enables me to devote every
attention to the detail. I am also able to crown the little pink dress
with an infantile face, whose hair, eyes, and complexion I colour
according to instructions; and with the introduction of a landscape
background and with a stray flower or two arranged in the foreground,
the sum total is a pretty picture which, on that account, leaves at
least a 'balance in my favour!'

The portrait (?) having been placed in its gilded frame, my patron is
invited to inspect it.

For many long moments Don Magin contemplates the work without uttering a
word. His countenance, which I watch with an anxious eye--as yet
expresses neither approval nor the reverse.

Does this portrait on my easel remind the bereaved parent of his lost
offspring?

It does! yes; there faithfully depicted are the very dress, the very
little hat, and the still smaller shoes which she was wont to wear in
life! The figure, complexion, colour of eyes and hair, are all hers to a
shade. In short, a resemblance to his child gradually developes itself
before the old gentleman's vision, till at last clasping both my hands,
and with tears in his eyes, he declares that I have succeeded far beyond
his best expectations.

In this instance everything terminates like the last scene in the
drama, where the aged father recognises his long lost child. But work of
this nature does not always end so satisfactorily.

Happily, portraiture is not our only resource. We hold important
professorships in colleges, schools, and ladies' academies, where we
impart every accomplishment in which drawing-paper and pencils are used,
including the art of caligraphy, missal-painting, and designing for
fancy needlework.

Whenever a strolling company of Spanish players encamp for the season at
the theatre, our services are required as the company's special scenic
artists. The demand for scenery at the Teatro Real Cuba is, however,
small; a divergence from its standard repertoire being considered as
next to an infringement on public rights; so our labours rarely extend
beyond an occasional property,