very pleasant colours. At a level crossing we saw the sign, “Stop listen and look”. Mr. Davis met us at the quay and brought us to this luxurious house, filled with a strange mixture of beautiful things after dinner, and went through the motions of an appreciator. But I felt he was just as ready to go through them apropos of bad things as of good. B. B. contented himself with saying, “Murder!” or “Jimmy Whiskers!” at the really fine things. he says he is so sick of the art-critic’s vocabulary, which he finds everyone can use as well as he