Some portrait painters have a practice which, for obvious reasons, cannot be adopted by painters of general subjects. They have a card hung up in a conspicuous part of the studio, showing the price at which they will execute portraits of the sizes given. At the bottom of this card there is generally an intimation that half the price must be paid after the first sitting, the remainder when the portrait is completed. This practice saves time and trouble, and it would be well if other artists could adopt some system whereby the price of such paintings as they may have for sale might be made known to visitors. But the price of a fancy picture is to be ascertained by the artist only by what it will bring, and it is quite likely that the wealth of the buyer, or his known admiration for good paintings, may reasonably make a difference in the sum asked by the artist, who might ask a lower price of a man whom he knew could not afford so much. There is nothing wrong in this, for an artist has as much right to get as much more than the minimum price of his picture as anybody else has to get the best price for his labor or his merchandise. Portrait painting is, however, pretty much a repetition of the same sort of work, and the artist would be the last man in the world to admit that there could be such difference in the execution of the work as to warrant a scale of prices in conformity therewith. It is not etiquette to visit the studio of an artist excepting by special invitation, and then only at the hours he may appoint. To go at any other time is ill-bred; for although he may be there, he will probably be unwilling to be disturbed at his work. It is ill-bred to take a young child to visit the studio of an artist, as there are generally articles there of value and easily broken or soiled; and even if the child is well trained, the owner of such articles would be in terror lest they should be ruined. It is excessively ill-bred to criticize harshly, in the presence of an artist, the works displayed in his studio. Extravagant praise is also in bad taste. A few cordial words of praise and pleasure should, of course, be spoken, and a friend may sometimes point out where improvements could be made; but it is a thankless task generally, and it is in much better taste to leave all criticism to the public journals, when the paintings are on public exhibition. It is against the rules of etiquette to keep an artist waiting, if you are sitting for a portrait. His time is of value to him, whatever yours may be to you; and it is equally rude to detain him after the sitting is over. His politeness may hinder him from even hinting to you that you are trespassing upon his hours for work, though he may be fretting silently at your rudeness in so doing.