13 and 14. A View of Venice, and a Seaport, by Canaletti. In the first our thoughts are pleasantly drawn to that interesting city "the Bride of the Sea," with its eighty inlets, numberless canals, beautiful palaces, its fairy-like gondolas "gliding over streets as in a dream," to say nothing of its gorgeously tinted skies, and the many memories, historical and poetical, to add to the potent charm. The second view gives to our American eye, all the attributes of some foreign shore—the high cliffs and castellated buildings, the curiously ornamented vessels, and many oared barges. No. 15. Flowers, by Gustave Couder—one of the valuable selections made by Mr. Walters, of Baltimore. There is a magnificently carved table of large dimensions, which, from its elaborate design and workmanship we suppose to be the property of some palatial residence abroad. Heavy green drapery, with corded fringe, falls gracefully upon the left side, partially covering the table, upon which rests a fallen vase of exquisite roses. Their bloom is not scattered, except by a single leaf or bud, which could not withstand the sudden rude shock of the fall, brought about by nothing less than a big cat. Having mounted in precipitate haste in search of sweets, or what was not her business, she has unawares turned over the vase. "What have I done?" says the cat, in an attitude of amazement and fear—the elevated high back assuming a slinking air, the letting down of the tail, and the gradual descent of the paw (one of which must have done the inglorious work), the drawing back of the ears, a dilation of the eyes, and the wide open mouth showing four long teeth, as a guard to a cavernous entrance so dark seems the way. Puss cannot swallow the flowers, which she would like to do no doubt, to wipe out the traces of the accident and we, who are lookers on at her half sad, half roguish plight,
