“No Toothache in the Nouveau Siècle,” for which Monsieur A.F. would pose as model as the good génie apportant le remède. I was simple enough to be taken in with this, and replied that, flattered as I was by his appreciation and wishes to have my work, I would like him to see the picture before sending it to the Royal Academy. I shortly re- ceived a curt note in a bold business hand, so dif- ferent from the dainty writing of the first letter. “Mr. André Fresco knows nothing about the picture referred to,” was all it said. I referred to that first letter, and found it bore the date of April 1!
I soon discovered this trick had been played on me by a cousin, then George, now Sir George Buchanan, late Medical Officer of Health of the Local Government Board. The Exhibition opened, and one morning shortly afterwards my mother called me down-stairs from the little room which served as a studio at the top of the house. On entering the dining-room, I found a kind-hearted, pleasant-looking man, whose face did not belie his nature, for he had come straight from the Academy, having been pleased with the “Toothache,” and wishing to have it. There being no obstacles in the way, he took it at the price asked, and sent a cheque the next day. His name was Charles Edward Mudie, founder of the world-famed library
