“Ye see, Hinnissy, whin a man gets hold iv a large hatful iv money, wan iv th’ first things he does is to buy some art.  Up to th’ time whin th’ top blew off th’ stock market, he bought his art out iv th’ front window iv a news an’ station’ry shop or had it put in be th’ paperhanger.  He took th’ Sundah pa-apers that ar-re a gr-reat help if ye’re collectin’ art, an’ he had some pitchers iv fruit that looks nachral enough to ate, d’ye mind, a paintin’ iv a deer like th’ wan he shot at in th’ Manotowish counthry in Eighty-eight, an’ a livin’ likeness iv a Lake Supeeryor white fish on a silver plate.  That was th’ peeryod, mind ye, whin th’ iron dogs howled on his lawn an’ people come miles an’ miles f’r to see a grotto made out iv relics iv th’ Chicago fire.

“Manetime his daughter was illustratin’ suspinders an’ illuminatin’ china plates an’ becomin’ artistic, an’ afther awhile whin th’ time come that he had to keep a man at th’ dure to sweep out th’ small bills, she give him a good push to’rd betther things.  Besides, his pardner down th’ sthreet had begun collectin’ pitchers, an’ ivry time he wint abroad th’ mannyfacthrers iv pitcher frames bought new autymobills f’r th’ Champs All Easy.  So ’twas a soft matther f’r our frind Higbie to be persuaded that he ought to be a pathron iv art, an’ he wint abroad detarmined to buy a bunch iv chromos that’d make people come out iv th’ gallery iv his pardner down th’ sthreet stiflin’ their laughter in their hands.

“Now ye’d think seein’ that he made his money in this counthry, he’d pathronize American art.  Ye’d believe he’d sind wurrud down to his agent f’r to secure forty feet iv Evansville be moonlight an’ be con-tint.  But he don’t.

“Ye don’t catch Higbie changin’ iv anny iv his dividends on domestic finished art.  He jumps on a boat an’ goes sthraight acrost to th’ centhral deepo.  The first thing he gets is a porthrait iv himsilf be wan iv th’ gr-reat modhren masthers, Sargent be name.  This here Sargent, Hogan tells me, used to live in this counthry, an’ faith, if he’d stayed here ye might see him to-day on a stagin’.  But he had a mind in his head an’ he tore off f’r Europe th’ way a duck hunter goes f’r a rice swamp.  Afther awhile, Higbie shows up, an’ says he:  ‘I’m Higbie iv th’ Non-Adhesive Consolidated Glue Company,’ he says.  ‘Can ye do me?’ ‘I can an’ will,’ says Sargent.  ‘I’ll do ye good.  How much have ye got?’ he says.  ‘Get some more an’ come around,’ he says.  An’ Higbie puts on his Prince Albert coat an’ laves it open so that ye can see his watch charm—­th’ crown iv Poland with th’ Kohinoor in th’ top iv it—­an’ me frind Sargent does him brown an’ red.  He don’t give him th’ pitcher iv coorse.  If ye have ye’er porthrait painted be a gr-reat painther, it’s ye’er porthrait but ’tis his pitcher, an’ he keeps it till ye don’t look that way anny more.  So Higbie’s porthrait is hung up in a gallery an’ th’ doctors brings people to see it that ar-re sufferin’