He was at Naples soon after the incident just related had gained wide circulation.  A conspiracy was entered into whereby the Whistler worshipers there were to be unaware of his presence.  He tried to play billiards with a company of young artists.  They met his advance with a stony glare.

“Oh, I say,” persisted he, “I think I know something of that game.  I’d like to play.”

A consultation was held, and the artists shook their heads, inquiring of one another, “Who is he?” Whistler retired crestfallen, and a roar of laughter which rang through the room added to his discomfiture.

“Oh, well,” he said, pulling nervously at his mustache, and his tone was petulant, “I don’t care.”

* * * * *

Whistler had a great penchant for white hats, kept all those he had ever worn, and had a large collection.  The flat-brimmed tall hat was a whim of his late years, imported from France, via the head of William M. Chase.

* * * * *

Mr. Chase has contributed largely to the budget of Whistler anecdotes.  One day when the two men were painting together in Whistler’s studio in London, a wealthy woman visited them with the demand, which she had made many times before, that Whistler return to her a picture by himself which he had borrowed several years before to place on exhibition.  The suave voice of Whistler was heard in argument, and he finally induced his patron to depart without the work of art.

When she had gone he returned to his work, muttering something about the absurdity of some persons who believed that because they had paid two hundred pounds for a picture they thought they thereby owned it.

“Besides,” he said, “there is absolutely nothing else in her house to compare with it, and it would be out of place.”

* * * * *

“Chase,” said Whistler one day, “how-is it now in America?  Do you find there, as you do in London, that in houses filled with beautiful pictures and superb statuary, and other objects of artistic merit, there is invariably some damned little thing on the mantel that gives the whole thing away?” Mr. Chase replied, sadly:  “It is even so, but you must remember, Whistler, that there are such things as birthdays.  People are not always responsible.”

* * * * *

Mr. Chase came up for discussion once at a little party, and Whistler’s sister observed, “Mr. Chase amuses James, doesn’t he, James?” James, tapping his finger-tips together lightly:  “Not often, not often.”

* * * * *

“I’m going over to London,” said he once to Chase, “and there I shall have a hansom made.  It shall have a white body, yellow wheels, and I’ll have it lined with canary-colored satin.  I’ll petition the city to let me carry one lamp on it, and on the lamp there will be a white plume.  I shall then be the only one.”