scholars or assistants to seek safety in flight.  Having thus lashed himself into sufficient frenzy, he performed miracles, according to Palomino, in the field of battle-pieces, throwing off many bold and spirited pictures of Pharaoh and his host struggling in the angry waters, or mailed Christians quelling the turbaned armies of the Crescent.  Few will withhold from him the praise of Bermudez, for brilliancy of coloring, and for the skill with which the dust, smoke, and dense atmosphere of the combat are depicted.

MARCH’S ADVENTURE OF THE FISH FRIED IN LINSEED OIL.

Palomino says that March had gone out one day, leaving neither meat nor money in the house, and was absent till past midnight, when he returned with a few fish, which he insisted on having instantly dressed for supper.  His wife said there was no oil; and Juan Conchillos, one of his pupils, being ordered to get some, objected that all the shops were shut up.  “Then take linseed oil,” cried the impetuous March, “for, por Dios, I will have these fish presently fried.”  The mess was therefore served with this unwonted sauce, but was no sooner tasted than it began to act as a vigorous emetic upon the whole party, “for indeed,” gravely writes Palomino, “linseed oil, at all times of a villainous flavor, when hot is the very devil.”  Without more ado, the master of the feast threw fish and frying-pan out of the window; and Conchillos, knowing his humor, flung the earthen chafing-dish and charcoal after them.  March was delighted with this sally, and embracing the youth, he lifted him from the floor, putting him in bodily fear, as he after wards told Palomino, that he was about to follow the coal and viands into the street.  As for the poor weary wife, she thought of her crockery, and remarking in a matter of-fact way, “What shall we have for supper now?” went to bed; whither her husband, pleased with the frolic of spoiling his meal and breaking the dishes, seems to have followed her in a more complacent mood than common.

A PAINTER’S REBUKE.

Jose Antonilez, a Spanish painter, studied under Francisco Rizi at Madrid.  When the latter was occupied in preparing some new scenery for the theatre at Buon Retiro, Antonilez spoke of him as a painter of foot-cloths—­an expression which was soon communicated to his master.  Rizi immediately administered a wholesome practical rebuke, by commanding the attendance of Antinolez on his Majesty’s service, and ordering him to execute a piece of painting in distemper.  The unlucky wag, being quite ignorant of the mode of performing the work, and too proud to confess it, worked for a whole day, at the end of which he had merely spoiled a large piece of canvas.  “So, sir,” said Rizi, quietly, “you see painting foot-cloths is not so easy after all;” and turning to his servant, added, “here, boy, take this canvas and carry it to the cistern to be washed.”