My mother, brooding night and day on her bereavement, has come to fix her ideal in offices of that sort.

Judged by that standard I 'm nowhere!" Rowland was at loss how to receive this account of his friend's domestic circumstances; it was plaintive, and yet the manner seemed to him over-trenchant.

"You must lose no time in making a masterpiece," he answered; "then with the proceeds you can give her gas from golden burners." "So I have told her; but she only half believes either in masterpiece or in proceeds.

She can see no good in my making statues; they seem to her a snare of the enemy.

She would fain see me all my life tethered to the law, like a browsing goat to a stake.