Presently Mueller threw his head back, held the drawing off, still studiously keeping the back of it towards the rest of the passengers; looked at it with half-closed eyes; stole another exceedingly cautious glance at his victim; and then, affecting for the first time to find himself observed, made a vast show of pretending to sketch the country through which we were passing.
The old gentleman could stand it no longer.
"Monsieur," said he, angrily.

"Monsieur, I will thank you not to take my portrait.

I object to it.

Monsieur." "Charming distance," said Mueller, addressing himself to me "Wants interest, however, in the foreground.

That's a picturesque tree yonder, is it not ?" The old gentleman struck his umbrella sharply on the floor.
"It's of no use, Monsieur," he exclaimed, getting more red and excited.
"You are taking my portrait, and I object to it.