perhaps there
may be a knighthood for you, Dick.

Tom, you are getting on now. You have abandoned those unsaleable
allegories. What rich art patron cares to be told continually by his own
walls that Midas had ass's ears; that Lazarus sits ever at the gate? You
paint portraits now, and everybody tells me you are the coming man. That
"Impression" of old Lady Jezebel was really wonderful. The woman
looks quite handsome, and yet it is her ladyship. Your touch is truly
marvellous.

But into your success, Tom--Dick, old friend, do not there creep moments
when you would that we could fish up those old egg-boxes from the past,
refurnish with them the dingy rooms in Camden Town, and find there our
youth, our loves, and our beliefs?

An incident brought back to my mind, the other day, the thought of all
these things. I called for the first time upon a man, an actor, who had
asked me to come and see him in the little home where he lives with his
old father. To my astonishment--for the craze, I believe, has long since
died out--I found the house half furnished out of packing cases, butter
tubs, and egg-boxes. My friend earns his twenty pounds a week, but it
was the old father's hobby, so he explained to me, the making of these
monstrosities; and of them he was as proud as though they were specimen
furniture out of the South Kensington Museum.

He took me into the dining-room to show me the latest outrage--a new
book-case. A greater disfigurement to the room, which was otherwise
prettily furnished, could hardly be imagined. There was no need for
him to assure me, as he did, that it had been made out of nothing but
egg-boxes. One could see at a glance that it was made out of egg-boxes,
and badly constructed egg-boxes at that--egg-boxes that were a disgrace
to the firm that had turned them out; egg-boxes not worthy the storage
of "shop 'uns" at eighteen the shilling.

We went upstairs to my friend's bedroom. He opened the door as a man
might open the door of a museum of gems.

"The old boy," he said, as he stood with his hand upon the door-knob,
"made everything you see here, everything," and we entered. He drew my
attention to the wardrobe. "Now I will hold it up," he said, "while you
pull the door open; I think the floor must be a bit uneven, it wobbles
if you are not careful." It wobbled notwithstanding, but by coaxing and
humouring we succeeded without mishap. I was surprised to notice a very
small supply of clothes within