ow
du Maurier drew the label for a most popular mineral water. It is safe
to predict that not one person in the tens of thousands looking at it
yearly would connect du Maurier with it. It is that elaborate and rather
inartistic design on Appollinaris water, for which he received fifty
guineas from his friend--one of the proprietors. Anyone following his
work in _Punch_ must have noticed that he was a hypochondriac.
Hypochondriasis was a disease with him, he was always thinking of his
health, and I fear that sudden burst of popularity following the success
of "Trilby," in place of bracing him up, made him dwell somewhat more
upon his state of health, and hastened the end.

I recollect his telling me years ago he was advised to take horse
exercise for his health's sake, so he hired a hack and started in the
direction of Richmond Park. Arriving at the well-known windmill, and
before descending the beautiful slopes on the other side, he took out
his watch and, opening the case, put out his tongue to see what effect
the ride had had on his health. The horse moved, and he found himself
the next moment on the ground.

He gave up horse exercise after that!

My first contribution to _Punch_ appeared in the number dated October
30th, 1880. "Punch," as a policeman, commanded the removal of the
newly-erected "Griffin" in the place of Old Temple Bar: "Take away that
Bauble!" The much-abused "Griffin" is the work (but after the design of
Horace Jones) of an old friend of mine, the late C. B. Birch, R.A., a
clever sculptor and a capital fellow. He sent me "his mark" of
appreciation, but I may say he was the last man to use the instrument of
torture suggested by his name.

[Illustration]

I then "did the theatres" with the editor--no mistake this time--and a
very pleasant time it was. My first "social" drawing appeared in the
second number in the following December, illustrating Scotch "wut"
manufactured in London.

Two Scotch rustics outside an eating-house. One points to a card in the
window on which is "Welsh Rabbit, 6d."

Hungry visitor (ignorant of the nature of this particular delicacy):
"Ah, Donal, mon, we ken weel hev the Rawbit fur saxpence. We ken get twa
Bawbees fur the Skeen when we get bock to Glasgow!"

The Scotch is certainly new, if the joke is not.

[Illustration: CHINESE STYLE. FROM A DRAWING ON WOOD. _PUNCH._]

An Irish joke followed, and then in the Almanack I illustrated a hit at
the style of ladies' d