Gilbert Stuart, though a celebrated artist, was likewise a great braggart. On one occasion a great public dinner was given to Isaac Hull by the town of Boston, and he was asked to sit for his picture to the artist.
When Hull visited the studio Stuart took great delight in entertaining him with anecdotes of his English success, stories of the marquis of this and the baroness of that, which showed how elegant was the society to which he had been accustomed.
Unfortunately, in the midst of this grandeur, Mrs. Stuart, who did not know that there was a sitter, came in with apron on and her head tied up with some handkerchiefs, from the kitchen, and cried out: “Do you mean to have that leg of mutton boiled or roasted?” to which Stuart replied, with great presence of mind, “Ask your mistress.”
This story is related of an old-time Judge in Sullivan County, N. Y.:
During a session of court there was so much talking and laughter going on that the Judge, becoming angry and confused, shouted in great wrath:
“Silence, here! We have decided half a dozen cases this morning, and I have not heard a word of one of them.”
Irving Bacheller, the author of “Eben Holden,” went a little farther north than usual one summer while on his vacation, and penetrated Newfoundland. He caught a good many fish, but this did not prevent his keeping an eye on the natives. He was particularly impressed by the men who spent the day lounging about the village stores.
“What do you fellows do when you sit around the store like this?” he asked of the crowd arranged in a circle of tilted chairs and empty boxes and maintaining a profound silence.