to its other advantages, this system is a great protection to us.  None of my men can work at home at nights and Sundays, and forge pictures.  Not one of them can do a whole one.  And now, sir, you have seen the greater part of my establishment.  The varnishing, packing, and storage rooms are in another building.  I am now perfecting plans for the erection of an immense edifice with steam-engines in the cellar, in which my paintings shall be done by machinery.  No chromos, mind you, but real oil-paintings, done by brushes revolving on cylinders.  I shall have rolls of canvas a mile long, like the paper on which our great dailies are printed, and the machines shall do everything; cut off the picture, when it has passed among the cylinders, whereupon fresh canvas will be rolled in for a new one; another machine will stretch them; and they will pass through a varnish bath in the twinkling of an eye.  But this is in the future.  What I want of you, sir, and of other men of influence in society, is to let our people know of the great good that is ready for them now, and of the greater benefit that is coming.  And, more than that, you can do incalculable good to our artists.  Those poor toilers on the solitary canvas should know how to become prosperous, great, and happy; tell them to go into some other business.  And now, sir, I must see what I can do for you.  We will return to my gallery, and I will show you exactly what you want.”

When we reached the back part of the showroom, down-stairs, he brought out an unframed picture about three feet long and two high, and placed it in a favorable light.  “There,” said he, “is a picture which will suit you.  It is what we call a reversible landscape, and is copied from the only genuine picture of the kind in the world.  It is just as good as two pictures.  In this position, you see, a line of land stretches across the middle of the picture, with trees, houses, and figures, with a light sky above and a lake, darker in hue, below.  Everything on the land is reflected accurately in the water.  It is a landscape in morning light.  Turn it upside down, so, and it is an evening scene; darkening sky above, light water beneath; the morning star, which you saw faintly glimmering in the other picture, is now the reflection of the evening star.”

I do not pretend to be a judge of pictures, but I fancy I appreciate an original idea when I see it, and I thought that this picture might answer my purpose.

“What is the price of the painting?” I asked.

“Well, sir,” said he, “to you, as a man of influence, I will fix the price of this great painting, from a comparatively unknown work of Gaspar Poussin, at four dollars and a half.”

In spite of what I had seen of the facilities possessed by this establishment for producing cheap work, I must confess that I was surprised at the smallness of the sum asked for an oil-painting of that size; I had expected to give forty or fifty dollars.  But, although I am not a judge of paintings, I am a business man, and accustomed to make bargains.  Therefore I said: