When the special artist exercises his vocation at home, though he lacks the excitement of danger, he meets with many amusing incidents. An artist who attended the meeting of the British Association at Lincoln many years ago desired to sketch the house which was reputed to have been the residence of John o' Gaunt, and asked the waiter at the hotel if he could direct him to it. 'Johnny Gaunt, Sir?' said the waiter, evidently puzzled; 'I don't know him, Sir, but I'll inquire.' In a few minutes he returned and said he had inquired at the bar, but that no such person as Johnny Gaunt resided thereabouts. Another, who was something of a wag, was once making a sketch in the heart of St. Giles's; there were no School Boards in those days, and numbers of idle street boys surrounded our sketcher, performing all manner of bewildering gymnastics. Not at all disturbed, however, he amused himself by asking his young friends numerous questions, all of which were answered with rapid pertness. At last he inquired of one active imp if he could read. 'No, I can't read,' said the young gentleman, 'but I can stand on my head and drink a quartern o' gin.' The methods pursued by special artists in obtaining their sketches are as various as the methods of painters in producing their pictures, or of authors in writing their books. One man uses a very small sketch-book, another prefers a large one, but they all require to supplement their hurried sketches with marginal notes. When there is not time to sketch a complete cow, it is good to write underneath the sketch, 'This is a cow.' Many events have to be sketched that last only a few minutes, and in such cases some little mistakes will occur even with old practitioners. Literary correspondents are liable to the same misfortune. At a certain royal marriage in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, the Lord Chamberlain obligingly sent a gentleman to attend the members of the press, and inform them as to the name and rank of the distinguished guests as they entered the chapel. The correspondents courteously allowed the artists of the pictorial press to take front places, so that some of their number were unable to see what was going on, and had to trust to their comrades for information. When the Duke of A----, in full Highland costume, entered the chapel, there was a general inquiry, 'Who is that?' 'That,' said the gentleman from the Lord Chamberlain's department, 'is the Duke of A----, the great Mac Callum More.' 'Who is it?' cried some of the gentlemen in the background, and the name was passed on, but by the time it reached the outer fringe of correspondents it was changed into 'The Duke of A---- with the Great Claymore,' and under that style and title his grace's name figured in at least one newspaper next day.