accurate study of his feline model. What he sought was that decorative touch which Pussy imparts so graciously when in accord with her surroundings. Her supple limbs, her thick soft fur, her air of ease and arrogance harmonize beautifully with the rich Venetian setting. The utmost point of splendour and self-indulgence reached by nations can do no more than meet and suffice the ordinary tastes of a cat.
A very different view of the subject is afforded us by the Florentine Cenacolas, those monastic frescoes which, with exquisite taste and feeling, adorned the refectory walls. In them we find the sleek convent cat, who appears to have presented herself invariably to the painter's notice, and to have met with every possible attention at his hands. Over and over again we see her; sometimes curled sleepily on the floor, as in Allori's fine but defaced picture in the Carmine; sometimes pilfering gravely from the bread-basket; oftenest sitting—where we least like to see her—at the feet of Judas. In that most lovely fresco by Ghirlandajo in the smaller refectory of San Marco, the Apostles are ranged round the board on high-backed settles. Saint John as usual rests his head upon the table. Judas, quite apart from the others, is balanced uncomfortably on a three-legged stool. An open arcade beyond reveals rich glimpses of leafy trees, with peacocks and
