of the sculptor thus patriarchally establishing himself said laughingly that the region ought to be called Powerstown.  The three houses, each in its own grounds, were built, and excellently good and comfortable residences they are.  Powers was almost as much in his own element in superintending them as in his studio with mallet and chisel in hand, as might be surmised.  The new studio formed no part of the dwelling-house, but occupied a separate erection in the grounds.  Nor did the artist’s love for his art fail to show itself in the amplitude and excellent adaptation of the building to all the needs of a studio, properly so called—­of work-rooms and exhibition-rooms for the reception of visitors.  A more complete sculptor’s residence and establishment it would be difficult to imagine.  Alas for the shortness of the few years that were allowed to him for the enjoyment of it!  Long after the house and the studio were completed, and the marbles all moved thither, Powers was still indulging in the delight of improving his garden; and his plans for such improvement gave striking evidence of that genius and passion for mechanical cleverness and achievements of which I have frequently spoken.  He had planned and begun—­I think only begun—­to execute an artesian well by means of certain newly-invented systems of boring, the details of which, in the absence of all workmen who possessed any knowledge whatever on the subject, had to be wholly superintended, arranged and adapted by himself.  He had satisfied himself by observations of his own that water was to be found at a given depth, and had, I believe, prosecuted the work sufficiently to be assured that his judgment in this respect was well founded.  In connection with this scheme of the artesian well was a fountain in the garden, which was, I believe, also ultimately brought to perfection.

In conformity with the convenient continental fashion of ladies naming one day in the week for the reception of visitors—­a plan which enables them to escape from the interruption to their domestic pursuits on all other days, and which is very generally adopted by those who have large circles of acquaintance—­Mrs. Powers used to open the drawing-rooms of her new house on every Saturday, and a considerable crowd was sure to be found there from two to six.  But such recent arrivals on the banks of the Arno as paid their respects to Mrs. Powers in the hope and expectation of seeing the famous sculptor were almost, if not quite, invariably disappointed.  None of the Florentine colony expected to find Powers in the drawing-room on such occasions.  They knew better where to look for him—­in his workshop.  There he might be found by those who had brought letters of introduction to him, in his usual workman’s garb.  Powers never made the slightest concession to the necessities of receiving “company” on such occasions.  There he was, with his working cap on head, probably in a long light gray coat, not innocent of marble dust, but often in blouse and apron.