Of course the “Group by M. Rodin” was worth more than all the loans within the building; but it was not everybody's group. It remained in the friendly obscurity of the dust-sheet except when some visitor with inquisitive tendencies begged for a glimpse of it. Then the parson, averting his eyes, lifted up a corner of the dust-sheet, and remarked that he was sure that the work would be a noble one when the great sculptor should have cut away all the superfluous stone that lay in great masses about the figures; but even in its unfinished condition anyone could see that it could not weigh much under five or six tons. I fancy that the gentleman who had contributed this loan was more of a humorist than the parson had suspected. What I think is the most disappointing feature in connection with the development of Art in the provinces is the lack of interest shown in certain districts in the local productions. The producers are not without honour save in their own county. Of course, if it became a question of saving money, there would be patrons enough of local art; but unhappily the possible patrons are incapable of estimating correctly the money value of such things, and they prefer to give five pounds for a picture by an artist a distance than two for one by a local man, even though they might be assured by some one capable of pronouncing an opinion that the cheaper work was the better. A few years ago I was made aware of a curious example of this characteristic of some places. It occurred to an enterprising printseller at Broadminster that a spring exhibition of works in black and white might attract attention and enable him to do some business; and with the co-operation of some of the London publishers he managed to get together over two hundred capital examples of modern work, including some proof etchings by Le Rat, David Law, Frank Short, Legros, and others. A local lady, who was understood to be a liberal and well-informed patroness of Art in various forms, visited the exhibition and was greatly attracted by an etching of a spring landscape. Finding the price moderate, she bought it and carried it home with her in her brougham. A week later, however, she returned with it to the printseller. “Is it true that the Cuthbert Tremaine who did this is only a local man?” she inquired. The printseller assured her that she was quite right: Cuthbert Tremaine's people belonged to the town, and he had been educated at the Grammar School and the School of Art. “Do you think it was quite fair of you to hang that from such a person among the etchings that co-exibit here?” she asked. “He was quite able to hold his own among the best of them,” said the printseller. “He's coming well to the front, I assure you.”