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cork； and yet as firm as alabaster！ I frankly confess that I really
pride myself as much on this little stroke of chemical ingenuity as
upon the other element of novelty in my creationsmy types。 What do
you say to my types； signore？ The idea is bold； does it strike you
as happy？ Cats and monkeysmonkeys and catsall human life is
there！ Human life； of course； I mean； viewed with the eye of the
satirist！ To combine sculpture and satire； signore； has been my
unprecedented ambition。 I flatter myself that I have not egregiously
failed。〃
As this jaunty Juvenal of the chimney…piece delivered himself of his
persuasive allocution； he took up his little groups successively from
the table； held them aloft； turned them about； rapped them with his
knuckles； and gazed at them lovingly； with his head on one side。
They consisted each of a cat and a monkey； fantastically draped； in
some preposterously sentimental conjunction。 They exhibited a
certain sameness of motive； and illustrated chiefly the different
phases of what； in delicate terms； may be called gallantry and
coquetry； but they were strikingly clever and expressive； and were at
once very perfect cats and monkeys and very natural men and women。 I
confess； however； that they failed to amuse me。 I was doubtless not
in a mood to enjoy them； for they seemed to me peculiarly cynical and
vulgar。 Their imitative felicity was revolting。 As I looked askance
at the complacent little artist； brandishing them between finger and
thumb and caressing them with an amorous eye； he seemed to me himself
little more than an exceptionally intelligent ape。 I mustered an
admiring grin； however； and he blew another blast。 〃My figures are
studied from life！ I have a little menagerie of monkeys whose
frolics I contemplate by the hour。 As for the cats； one has only to
look out of one's back window！ Since I have begun to examine these
expressive little brutes； I have made many profound observations。
Speaking； signore； to a man of imagination； I may say that my little
designs are not without a philosophy of their own。 Truly； I don't
know whether the cats and monkeys imitate us； or whether it's we who
imitate them。〃 I congratulated him on his philosophy； and he
resumed： 〃You will do use the honour to admit that I have handled my
subjects with delicacy。 Eh； it was needed； signore！ I have been
free； but not too freeeh？ Just a hint； you know！ You may see as
much or as little as you please。 These little groups； however； are
no measure of my invention。 If you will favour me with a call at my
studio； I think that you will admit that my combinations are really
infinite。 I likewise execute figures to command。 You have perhaps
some little motivethe fruit of your philosophy of life； signore
which you would like to have interpreted。 I can promise to work it
up to your satisfaction； it shall be as malicious as you please！
Allow me to present you with my card； and to remind you that my
prices are moderate。 Only sixty francs for a little group like that。
My statuettes are as durable as bronzeaere perennius； signoreand；
between ourselves； I think they are more amusing！〃
As I pocketed his card I glanced at Madonna Serafina； wondering
whether she had an eye for contrasts。 She had picked up one of the
little couples and was tenderly dusting it with a feather broom。
What I had just seen and heard had so deepened my compassionate
interest in my deluded friend that I took a summary leave； making my
way directly to the house designated by this remarkable woman。 It
was in an obscure corner of the opposite side of the town； and
presented a sombre and squalid appearance。 An old woman in the
doorway； on my inquiring for Theobald； ushered me in with a mumbled
blessing and an expression of relief at the poor gentleman having a
friend。 His lodging seemed to consist of a single room at the top of
the house。 On getting no answer to my knock； I opened the door；
supposing that he was absent； so that it gave me a certain shock to
find him sitting there helpless and dumb。 He was seated near the
single window； facing an easel which supported a large canvas。 On my
entering he looked up at me blankly； without changing his position；
which was that of absolute lassitude and dejection； his arms loosely
folded； his legs stretched before him； his head hanging on his
breast。 Advancing into the room I perceived that his face vividly
corresponded with his attitude。 He was pale； haggard； and unshaven；
and his dull and sunken eye gazed at me without a spark of
recognition。 I had been afraid that he would greet me with fierce
reproaches； as the cruelly officious patron who had turned his
contentment to bitterness； and I was relieved to find that my
appearance awakened no visible resentment。 〃Don't you know me？〃 I
asked； as I put out my hand。 〃Have you already forgotten me？〃
He made no response； kept his position stupidly； and left me staring
about the room。 It spoke most plaintively for itself。 Shabby；
sordid； naked； it contained； beyond the wretched bed； but the
scantiest provision for personal comfort。 It was bedroom at once and
studioa grim ghost of a studio。 A few dusty casts and prints on
the walls； three or four old canvases turned face inward； and a
rusty…looking colour…box； formed； with the easel at the window； the
sum of its appurtenances。 The place savoured horribly of poverty。
Its only wealth was the picture on the easel； presumably the famous
Madonna。 Averted as this was from the door； I was unable to see its
face； but at last； sickened by the vacant misery of the spot； I
passed behind Theobald； eagerly and tenderly。 I can hardly say that
I was surprised at what I founda canvas that was a mere dead blank；
cracked and discoloured by time。 This was his immortal work！ Though
not surprised； I confess I was powerfully moved； and I think that for
five minutes I could not have trusted myself to speak。 At last my
silent nearness affected him； he stirred and turned； and then rose
and looked at me with a slowly kindling eye。 I murmured some kind
ineffective nothings about his being ill and needing advice and care；
but he seemed absorbed in the effort to recall distinctly what had
last passed between us。 〃You were right；〃 he said； with a pitiful
smile； 〃I am a dawdler！ I am a failure！ I shall do nothing more in
this world。 You opened my eyes； and； though the truth is bitter； I
bear you no grudge。 Amen！ I have been sitting here for a week； face
to face with the truth； with the past； with my weakness and poverty
and nullity。 I shall never touch a brush！ I believe I have neither
eaten nor slept。 Look at that canvas！〃 he went on； as I relieved my
emotion in an urgent request that he would come home with me and
dine。 〃That was to have contained my masterpiece！ Isn't it a
promising foundation？ The elements of it are all HERE。 And he
tapped his forehead with that mystic confidence whi