The friend agreed that this was a very proper attitude and that it betokened true sincerity of purpose.

“NELSON’s face,” the painter continued, “was an uncommon one.  So large and so mobile a mouth is rare.  But I have no doubt that a duplicate exists, and no matter who is the owner of it, even were he an archbishop, I should not hesitate to go up and ask him to sit to me.”

(For the benefit of any feminine reader of this veracious history I should say that the repetition which she has just noticed is not an accident, but has been carefully set down.  It is an attempt to give verisimilitude to the conversation—­because men always say things like that twice.)

The friend again remarked that the painter’s resolve did him infinite credit, and the two started for the station, still conversing on the same theme.

On entering their carriage the first thing to take their attention was a quiet little man in black, who was the absolute double of the hero of Trafalgar.

“Good gracious!” whispered the painter excitedly, “do you see that?  There’s the very man.  The likeness to NELSON is astonishing.  I never saw anything like it.  I don’t care who he is, I must tackle him.  It’s the most extraordinary chance that ever occurred.”

Assuming his most silky and deferential manner—­for, though clearly not an archbishop, unless in mufti, this might yet be a person of importance—­the painter approached the stranger and tendered a card.

“I trust, Sir, that you will excuse me,” he began, “for the liberty I am taking, but I am an artist and I happen to be engaged on a picture of NELSON on the Victory.  I have all the accessories and so forth, but what I very seriously need is a brief sitting from some gentleman with a likeness to the great little Admiral.  Such, Sir, as yourself.  It may be news to you—­it probably is—­but you, Sir, if I may say so, are so like the famous and immortal warrior as almost to take one’s breath away.  It is astonishing, wonderful!  Might I—­would it be—­could you—­would you, Sir, be so very kind as to allow me to paint you?  I would, of course, make every effort not to inconvenience you—­I would arrange so that your time should be mine.”

“Of course I will, guvnor,” said the man.  “I’m a professional model and I’ve been sitting for NELSON for years.  Why, I’ve been doing it for an artist this very afternoon.”

[Illustration:  OUR RESTRICTED COAST AMUSEMENTS.

Vendor.  “ALL THE OFFICIAL ’OLIDAY FUN.  FLY THE PATRIOTIC KITES AND ANNOY THE GOTHAS!”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Physical Drill Instructor (to weak-kneed recruit).  “NAH THEN!  IF YOU’RE A-GOING TER JUMP—­JUMP!”]

* * * * *

A LOST LAND.

(To GERMANY.)