some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
others; the walls are covered with them.

[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
Kendal._]

Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
bedroom is almost entirely given up to Dore's marvellous creations,
though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.

Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.

The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.

"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
arrow."

The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to M