hcote, meanwhile, was
walking, and riding, and visiting, and, above all, photographing. He got a
small covered cart, into which he would put his photographic apparatus and
go the rounds of the country-side alone, getting his luncheon as he could,
and coming back late in the evening, flushed with heat and victory,
bringing amusing accounts of his experiences, a bouquet as of an
apothecary-shop, and "proofs" of "a lane,--quite an English-looking lane,"
"a dog on the chain," "rear view of an American public" (house), "Saint
Lieuk's Church" (five different aspects), "what the natives call an
'ash-hopper,'--came out beautifully," "children among the hay-cocks,--very
indistinct," "squatter's hut on the edge of a common," "Western American
farm-house," "negro dust-man," "village beauty," and many others. He was
much complimented upon them all by Mr. Ketchum, who enjoyed the whole
collection and made comments and suggestions of the most delightful kind.
Mr. Heathcote looked infinitely pleased and flattered when told by him
that they had "a cold, professional air," and asked for copies of some of
them, after which he was eclipsed behind his black cloth and instrument
for two days, had his room darkened to a Cimmerian pitch, worked very
diligently, and presented the fruits of his labors to his host with the
modest depreciation but secret delight of the artist, smiling indulgently
at Mr. Ramsay, with his "I say, old chappy, what an out-and-out swell you
are at it, to be sure! You must do the horses." Thus encouraged, Mr.
Heathcote did the horses, the house, the family grouped inside and outside,
Master Jared Ponsonby, Hannibal Hamlin, Master Bobo and Miss Blanche, the
poultry, and (aided by mirrors) himself in almost every dress and attitude
which it is possible for a man to assume. He must have spent a small
fortune in chemicals alone, and all his talk was of light and shadow,
background, draperies, foreground, plates, and proofs; every table was
strewn with photographs, finished and not finished, mounted or curled up
like paper crumpets.

Mr. Ramsay, too, had his little diversions, not precisely scientific, but
amusing. He was in and out of the stables all day long, and was loved by
every animal on the place. Such long-suffering and good nature Master
Ketchum had never seen, except in Fraeulein Schmidt; and then the strength,
the resources, the conversation of his new friend enchanted the child, who
followed him about, perched on