SWINBURNE AND PADEREWSKI [Sidenote: _Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones_] "There's a beautiful fellow in London named Paderewski--and I want to have a face like him and look like him, and I can't--there's trouble. He looks so like Swinburne looked at twenty that I could cry over past things, and has his ways too--the pretty ways of him--courteous little tricks and low bows and a hand that clings in shaking hands, and a face very like Swinburne's, only in better drawing, but the expression the same, and little turns and looks and jerks so like the thing I remember that it makes me fairly jump. I asked to draw from him, and Henschel brought him and played on the organ and sang while I drew--which was good for the emotions but bad for the drawing. And knowing people say he is a great master in his art, which might well be, for he looks glorious. I praised Allah for making him and felt myself a poor thing for several hours. Have got over it now." THE VIVACIOUS VIVIER [Sidenote: _H. Sutherland-Edwards_] I "breakfasted" again and again with Adolphe Sax, and had always the same fare--"un bifteck et des oeufs sur le plat." ... On one occasion Vivier turned up. He was the natural enemy of Sax, for Sax, by his system of keys, brought effective horn-playing within the reach of ordinary performers, which lessened the immense superiority of Vivier over horn-players in general. Vivier, however, was troubled by no considerations of that kind. The Saxhorn, moreover, did not possess the timbre of the horn. I had already met this remarkable engineer, musician, diplomatist and professor of mystification, in London, when he was complaining with facetious bitterness that Mr. Frederic Gye had not sent him a box for one of Angiolina Bosio's touching performances of "La Traviata." He had written to the manager explaining that he was ready to shed tears, and that he possessed a pocket handkerchief, but wanted something more. "J'ai un mouchoir, mais pas de loge," he said. Yet his letter was left without a reply. After waiting a day or two, and still receiving no answer, Vivier engaged the dirtiest crossing-sweeper he could find, made him put on a little extra mud, and sent him with a letter to Mr. Gye demanding "the return of his correspondence." The courteous manager of the Royal Italian Opera could scarcely have known that, besides being one of the finest musicians and quite the finest horn player of his day, Eugene Vivier was the most charming of men, and the spoiled child of nearly every Court in Europe. Speaking to me once of the Emperor Napoleon, he said, in answer to a question I had put to him as to Napoleon III's characteristics: "He is the most gentlemanly Emperor I know." "What can I do for you?" said this gentlemanly Emperor one day, when Vivier had gone to see him at the Tuileries.