aries to visit China. This box and
book, along with quite a collection of other relics, were sent to my
grandfather and descended to myself."

My correspondent kindly supplied me with rubbings of the Tangrams, from
which it is clear that they are cut in the exact proportions that I have
indicated. I reproduce the Chinese inscription (8) for this reason. The
owner of the book informs me that he has submitted it to a number of
Chinamen in the United States and offered as much as a dollar for a
translation. But they all steadfastly refused to read the words,
offering the lame excuse that the inscription is Japanese. Natives of
Japan, however, insist that it is Chinese. Is there something occult and
esoteric about Tangrams, that it is so difficult to lift the veil?
Perhaps this page will come under the eye of some reader acquainted with
the Chinese language, who will supply the required translation, which
may, or may not, throw a little light on this curious question.

[Illustration: 8]

By using several sets of Tangrams at the same time we may construct more
ambitious pictures. I was advised by a friend not to send my picture, "A
Game of Billiards" (9), to the Academy. He assured me that it would not
be accepted because the "judges are so hide-bound by convention."
Perhaps he was right, and it will be more appreciated by
Post-impressionists and Cubists. The players are considering a very
delicate stroke at the top of the table. Of course, the two men, the
table, and the clock are formed from four sets of Tangrams. My second
picture is named "The Orchestra" (10), and it was designed for the
decoration of a large hall of music. Here we have the conductor, the
pianist, the fat little cornet-player, the left-handed player of the
double-bass, whose attitude is life-like, though he does stand at an
unusual distance from his instrument, and the drummer-boy, with his
imposing music-stand. The dog at the back of the pianoforte is not
howling: he is an appreciative listener.

[Illustration: 9]

[Illustration: 10]

One remarkable thing about these Tangram pictures is that they suggest
to the imagination such a lot that is not really there. Who, for
example, can look for a few minutes at Lady Belinda (11) and the Dutch
girl (12) without soon feeling the haughty expression in the one case
and the arch look in the other? Then look again at the stork (13), and
see how it is suggested to the mind that the leg is actually much more