. Thus happily we passed on
into the detested thoroughfare of Piccadilly. On the right of that
thoroughfare is a row of trees, the railing of the Green Park, and a fine
broad eligible piece of pavement.

"Oh my!" cried Henrietta presently. "There's been an accident!"

I looked to the left, and said, "Where, Henrietta?"

"Not there, stupid!" said she. "Over by the Park railings. Where the
crowd is. Oh no, it's not an accident, it's something else to look at!
What's them lights?"

She referred to two lights twinkling low amongst the legs of the
assemblage: two candles on the pavement.

"Oh, do come along!" cried Henrietta, skipping across the road with me. I
hung back, but in vain. "Do let's look!"

Again, designs upon the pavement. Centre compartment, Mount Vesuvius
going it (in a circle), supported by four oval compartments, severally
representing a ship in heavy weather, a shoulder of mutton attended by
two cucumbers, a golden harvest with distant cottage of proprietor, and a
knife and fork after nature; above the centre compartment a bunch of
grapes, and over the whole a rainbow. The whole, as it appeared to me,
exquisitely done.

The person in attendance on these works of art was in all respects,
shabbiness excepted, unlike the former personage. His whole appearance
and manner denoted briskness. Though threadbare, he expressed to the
crowd that poverty had not subdued his spirit, or tinged with any sense
of shame this honest effort to turn his talents to some account. The
writing which formed a part of his composition was conceived in a
similarly cheerful tone. It breathed the following sentiments: "The
writer is poor, but not despondent. To a British 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0
Public he Pounds s. d. appeals. Honour to our brave Army! And also 0 9
8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 to our gallant Navy. BRITONS STRIKE the A B C D E F G
writer in common chalks would be grateful for any suitable employment
HOME! HURRAH!" The whole of this writing appeared to me to be
exquisitely done.

But this man, in one respect like the last, though seemingly hard at it
with a great show of brown paper and rubbers, was only really fattening
the down-stroke of a letter here and there, or blowing the loose chalk
off the rainbow, or toning the outside edge of the shoulder of mutton.
Though he did this with the greatest confidence, he did it (as it struck
me) in so ignorant a manner, and so spoilt everything he touched, that
when he