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A gentleman who was walking through a public gallery, where a number of
artists were at work, overheard the following amusing conversation
between a big, heavy-looking man, who was painting on a large picture,
and a weak-looking little cripple, who, limping over to where he sat,
looked over his shoulder for a few minutes, and said timidly:

"I beg your pardon, sir, may I ask what medium you paint with?"

"Brains," shouted the other in a voice of thunder.

"Oh, indeed! That accounts for its fogginess," which caused a roar of
laughter.

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