One loudly dressed mechanic in stately attitude, with his hand on a cannon, ashore, and a ship riding at anchor in the offing,--this is merely odd; but when one sees the same cannon and the same ship in fourteen pictures in a row, and a different mechanic standing watch in each, the thing gets to be funny.
"Explain--explain these aberrations," said Tracy.
"Well, they are not the achievement of a single intellect, a single talent--it takes two to do these miracles.

They are collaborations; the one artist does the figure, the other the accessories.

The figure-artist is a German shoemaker with an untaught passion for art, the other is a simple hearted old Yankee sailor-man whose possibilities are strictly limited to his ship, his cannon and his patch of petrified sea.

They work these things up from twenty-five-cent tintypes; they get six dollars apiece for them, and they can grind out a couple a day when they strike what they call a boost--that is, an inspiration." "People actually pay money for these calumnies ?" "They actually do--and quite willingly, too.

And these abortionists could double their trade and work the women in, if Capt.