w a man kneeling over the patient and grasping him firmly by the
throat; whereupon the physician exclaimed, "Why, sir, you are stopping
the circulation in the jugular vein!" "Sir," replied the other, "I am a
doctor of medicine." To which the first M.D. remarked, "Ah! I beg your
pardon," and stood by very composedly until the patient was comfortably
dead.

While Mr. Powers was conversing with me about the Venus of Milo, there
entered two Englishwomen dressed very richly in brocades and velvets.
They seemed very anxious to see everything in the studio, talked in loud
tones of the various objects of art, passed us, and occupied themselves
for some time before the statue called California. I heard one of them
say, "I wonder if there's anybody 'ere that talks Hinglish?" and in the
same breath she called out to Mr. Powers, "Come 'ere!" He was at work
that day, and wore his studio costume. I was somewhat surprised to see
him immediately obey the rude command, and the following conversation
occurred:

"Do you speak Hinglish?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What is this statue?"

"It is called California, madam."

"What has she got in 'er 'and?"

"Thorns, madam, in the hand held behind the back; in the other she
presents the quartz containing the tempting metal."

"Oh!"

We next entered a room where there was another work of the sculptor in
process of formation. Mr. Powers and myself were engaged in an animated
and, to me, very agreeable conversation, which was constantly
interrupted by these ill-bred women, who kept all the time mistaking the
plaster for the marble, and asked the artist the most pestering
questions on the _modus operandi_ of sculpturing. I was astonished at
the marvelous temper of Mr. Powers, who politely and patiently answered
all their queries. By some lucky chance these women got out of the way
during our slow progress back to the outer rooms, and I enjoyed Mr.
Powers's conversation uninterruptedly. He showed me the beautiful baby
hand in marble, a copy of his daughter's hand when an infant, and had
just returned it to its shrine when the two women reappeared, and we all
proceeded together. In the outer room there were several admirable
busts, upon which these women passed comment freely. One of these busts
was that of a lady, and they attacked it spitefully. "What an ugly
face!" "What a mean expression about the mouth!" "Isn't it 'orrible?"

"Who is it?" asked one of them, addressing Mr. Powers.

"That is