no human arm ever was fixed) on to shoulders forming a perfect right angle, and my features woolly with an infinity of microscopic lines; and I hate to have my face composed entirely of coarse lines, and marked by an invariable expression of wild astonishment, and surrounded by hair like snakes; but what I loathe worst of all is to be reduced to two black dots and two acute angles—that's the most maddening thing of the whole lot!"
He stopped for breath, panting with long pent-up sense of wrong.
"But, if you'll swear solemnly, on this chip, to breathe a word of it to no living creature, I'll tell you something a great secret. We—the public men, I mean—have held a quiet meeting on this very subject, and we've decided to take the matter into our own hands, and defend ourselves. We have conceived a plan for protection, not unamplified by revenge, and we're taking steps to carry it out—but here's Sally coming across the grass; he's in it, of course, and he'll tell you all about it."
Turning, I perceived approaching, with ponderous tread, the Marquis of S———, who presently seated himself weightily upon a large fallen trunk, breaking it.
"Look here, Sally," said Mr. G———, "this young man wants to know all about our Public Men's Mutual Protection and Revenge Union"
"Hum! State secret!" began Lord S———; but, perceiving it was all right, he turned to me, and said: "They're at it again this week—more atrocious than ever! There I am, sir, in one of the cartoons, perfectly spherical, with my clothes tense with horizontal wrinkles, and looking as if I were about to burst, and with my nose in the air as usual; and there I am again with legs just as thin as G———'s here, and in a pair of trousers made by the same tailor, and having a mass of wrinkles over the boots, just like his; as if he and I had only one pair of trousers between us! And there I am again, like a football, with no legs to speak of, and"
"Pooh! what's that? Trivial, compared with the tortures I undergo!" thundered a voice behind me; and there stood Sir W——— H——— "I tell you solemnly, Sally, that I appear in one paper this week with no less than seventeen distinct chins—seventeen, sir! It's disgraceful—it's maddening—I'll commit suicide!"
"That's better than being represented like a collection of clothes-props," said Mr. B——— (arriving at that moment), in a voice tremulous with emotion. Those who have represented Mr. B——— as phlegmatic and unsusceptible should have seen him as I saw him at that pathetic moment! "With legs, gentlemen," he continued, clasping his forehead, "of exactly the same thickness as the golf stick I am supposed to invariably carry!"
"Well, young man," said the Marquis of S———, turning to me, "our plan is maturing, and almost ready to burst upon the crew of caricaturists, scattering destruction and dismay in their confounded midst. We have, each of us, secured the services of—but show him yours, G———; that is, if he isn't too savage."
Mr. G——— led the way toward the back yard of the house. As we approached we became conscious of a low growling, intensifying as we approached. "Do not be apprehensive," said Mr. G———, throwing open the gate of the yard, "he is chained."
"Confound every one of you!"
At the sight of us a wild figure sprang forward with an angry yell, but was fortunately checked by the stout chain which it strained to its utmost tension: it shook its fist at us menacingly, shouting angrily, "Confound every one of you—I'll take you off before you know where you are! Just stand like that—yah!—head a little more round. I'll caricature every man jack of you—such guys! Aha! oho! Noses as
