“Three years later,” said Mr. Opper, “I had an offer from the publishers of ‘Puck’ to work for them,—a connection which I severed not long ago, although I still hold stock in the company. I not only made my own drawings, but furnished ideas for others. I have always furnished my own captions, inscriptions and headings. Indeed, they are a part of a cartoon, or other humorous work. I think that I may say that ‘Puck’ owes some of its success to me, for I labored conscientiously.” Mr. Opper walked over to a mantelpiece for two books of sketches, which he handed me to look at. They contained sketches of the country places he had visited on his summer wanderings. “And you use these?” I asked. “Yes; if I want a farmer leaning over a fence with a cow in the distance. I can use that barnyard scene And that bit of a country road can be made useful. So can that corncrib with the tin pans turned upside down on the posts supporting it, to keep the rats off. That old hay-wagon, and that farmer with a rake and a large straw hat can all be worked in. I always carry a sketch-book with me, no matter where I go.” THE “SUBURBAN RESIDENT.” On “Puck,” Mr. Opper was the originator of the “suburban resident,” who has since been the subject of much innocent merriment,—the gentleman with the high silk hat, side whiskers, glasses, an anxious expression, and bundles, and always on the rush for a train. “I enjoyed those,” said Mr. Opper, with a laugh, “before I became a suburban myself.” XXXV “A Square Man in a Round Hole” Rejects $5,000 a Year and Becomes a Sculptor. “MY LIFE?” repeated F. Wellington Ruckstuhl, one of the foremost sculptors of America, as we sat in his studio looking up at his huge figure of “Force.” “When did I begin to sculpture? As a child I was forever whittling, but I did not have dreams then of becoming a sculptor. It was not till I was thirty-two years of age. And love,—disappointment in my first love played a prominent part.” “But as a boy, Mr. Ruckstuhl?”