winkle of the eye that were eminently Scottish. 'She was
never weary of sitting to me for her portrait, in her best cap and brigand
hat, and with all her wrinkles tidily composed, and though she never
failed to repudiate the result, she would always insist upon another
trial. * * * "No, no," she would say, "that is not it. I am old, to be
sure, but I am better looking than that. We must try again."

"But the most characteristic work of Stevenson as illustrator is to be
found in the quaint little woodcuts which adorned the volumes turned out
by the press of Osbourne & Co. at Davos. With some very primitive type and
a boundless capacity for frivoling, this 'company,' consisting of Mr. and
Mrs. Stevenson and young Lloyd Osbourne, managed to while away the hours
of the Swiss Winter in delightful fashion. As Mr. Pennell states in _The
Studio_ these Davos editions are exceedingly hard to secure. The British
Museum itself has only two copies, and there is no hint of their existence
in any of the published works. One of these works was entitled 'Moral
Emblems; a Collection of Cuts and Verses.'

"There was also a second collection of 'Moral Emblems, an edition de luxe,
in tall paper, extra fine, price tenpence, and a popular edition for the
million, small paper, cuts slightly worn, a great bargain, eightpence.'
Another of these volumes was entitled 'The Graver and the Pen,' of which
the author asserted on the poster that it was 'a most strikingly
illustrated little work, and the poetry so pleasing that when it is taken
up to be read is finished before it is set down.' There were five
full-page illustrations, eleven pages of poetry finely printed on superb
paper, and the whole work offered a splendid chance for an energetic
publisher. One of the moral emblems runs as follows:

"Industrious pirate! See him sweep
The lonely bosom of the deep,
And daily the horizon scan
From Hatteras or Matapan.
Be sure, before that pirate's old,
He will have made a pot of gold,
And will retire from all his labors
And be respected by his neighbors.
You also scan your life's horizon
For all that you can clap your eyes on.

"Sometimes an unintentional effect was introduced into the woodcuts, as in
the case of 'The Foolhardy Geographer.' We cannot tell the story, but the
effect is thus described in a postscript:

"A blemish in the cut appears,
Alas! it cost both blood and tears.
The glancing graver swerved aside,
F