beyond what you'd expect in a
hairdresser--haven't you, Leandy? Tell Miss Collum's dear ma about the
new machines you've invented for altering people's hands and eyes and
features."

"I don't care to be told," the lady struck in. "To my mind, it's nothing
less than sheer impiety to go improving the features we've been endowed
with. We ought to be content as we are, and be thankful we've been sent
into the world with any features at all. Those are my opinions!"

"Ah," said the politic Leander, "but some people are saved having resort
to Art for improvement, and we oughtn't to blame them as are less
favoured for trying to render themselves more agreeable as spectacles,
ought we?"

"And if every one thought with you," added his aunt, with distinctly
inferior tact, "where would your poor dear 'usband have been, Mrs.
Collum, ma'am?"

"My dear husband was not on the same level--he was a medical man; and,
besides, though he replaced Nature in one of her departments, he had too
much principle to _imitate_ her. Had he been (or had I allowed him to
be) less conscientious, his practice would have been largely extended;
but I can truthfully declare that not a single one of his false teeth
was capable of deceiving for an instant. I hope," she added to Leander,
"you, in your own different way, are as scrupulous."

"Why, the fact is," said Leander, whose professional susceptibilities
were now aroused, "I am essentially an artist. When I look around, I see
that Nature out of its bounty has supplied me with a choice selection of
patterns to follow, and I reproduce them as faithful as lies within my
abilities. You may call it a fine thing to take a blank canvas, and
represent the luxurious tresses and the blooming hue of 'ealth upon it,
and so do I; but I call it a still higher and nobler act to produce a
similar effect upon a human 'ed!"

"Isn't that a pretty speech for a young man like him--only
twenty-seven--Mrs. Collum?" exclaimed his admiring aunt.

"You see, mamma dear," pleaded Matilda, who saw that her parent remained
unaffected, "it isn't as if Leander was in poor papa's profession."

"I hope, Matilda," said the lady sharply, "you are not going to pain me
again by mentioning this young man and your departed father in the same
breath, because I cannot bear it."

"The old lady," reflected Leander here, "don't seem to take to me!"

"I'm sure," said Miss Tweddle, "Leandy quite feels what an honour it is
to him to look f