MR. MILB. Ha! puts me in mind of the old story of the man who picked up a dingy panel somewhere or other, took it home, cleaned it, and found a genuine Morland; went on cleaning and discovered an undoubted Rembrandt; cleaned _that_, and came to a Crivelli; couldn't stop, kept on cleaning, and was rewarded by a portrait of George the Fourth! FIRST COMM. (_deeply impressed_). And all of them genuine? How _very_ extraordinary, to be sure! MR. L.-B. (_wagging his head sapiently_). I could tell you shtranger things than _that_. But as I was shaying, here was this busht of Napoleon, by some French chap--which _you_ would tell me was _against_ it. MR. MILB. Why? The French are the best sculptors in the world. MR. L.-B. The Frensh! I can _not_ bring myshelf to believe that, if only for thish shimple reashon, they haven't the _patiensh_ for it. FIRST COMM. So _I_ should have said. For my own part--not knowing much _about_ it, very likely--I should have put the _Italians_ first. MR. MILB. If you are talking of all time---- FIRST COMM. (_feeling at last at his ease_). I should say, even _now_. Why, there was a piece of statuary in the Italian Exhibition at Earl's Court some years back that took _my_ fancy and took my _wife's_ fancy very much. It was a representation in marble of a 'en and chickens, all so natural, and with every individual feather on the birds done to such a nicety----! MR. MILB. I was hardly referring to the skill with which the Italians carve--ah--_poultry_. MR. L.-B. Ridic'lous! Great mishtake to talk without unnershtanding shubject. (_The FIRST COMMERCIAL retires from the room in disorder._) One thing I should like to ashk is thish. Why are sculptors at present day so inferior to the antique? Ishn't the human form divine ash noble and ash shymmetrical ash formerly? Why can't they _reproduce_ it then? MR. MILB. You must first find your sculptor. Providence doesn't see fit to create a Michael Angelo or a Praxiteles every five minutes, any more than a Shakspeare. MR. L.-B. (_wavering between piety and epigram_). Thank the Lord for _that_! Now there'sh Florensh. Shome of us who have had the _run_ there--well, there you see all the original thingsh--all the _originalsh_. And yet, if you'll believe me (_dreamily_), with all my love and charm for Art, gimme the Capitoline Venush living and breathing in _flesh and blood_, Sir, not in cold lifelesh marble! MR. MILB. That of course is a matter of taste. But we are talking about Art, not women. MR. L.-B. (_profoundly_). Unforsh'nately, women are the _shubjects_ of Art. You've got to find out your client's shtyle of Art firsht, and then carry it out in the besht possible manner. MR. MILB. (_rising, and knocking his pipe out_). Have I? But I'm going to bed now, so you'll excuse me.