cost, saying
that he would pay for it out of his own money, and that he wanted to give
it to his mother. The pleased painter executed it for a small price, and
old Osborne himself, when he heard of the incident, growled out his
satisfaction, and gave the boy twice as many sovereigns as he paid for
the miniature.

At his new home Master George ruled like a lord, and charmed his old
grandfather by his ways. "Look at him," the old man would say, nudging
his neighbour with a delighted purple face, "did you ever see such a
chap? Lord, Lord! he'll be ordering a dressing-case next, and razors to
shave with; I'm blessed if he won't."

The antics of the lad did not, however, delight Mr. Osborne's friends so
much as they pleased the old gentleman. It gave Mr. Justice Coffin no
pleasure to hear Georgie cut into the conversation and spoil his stories.
Mr. Sergeant Toffy's lady felt no particular gratitude when he tilted a
glass of port wine over her yellow satin, and laughed at the disaster;
nor was she better pleased, although old Osborne was highly delighted,
when Georgie "whopped" her third boy, a young gentleman a year older than
Georgie, and by chance home for the holidays. George's grandfather gave
the boy a couple of sovereigns for that feat, and promised to reward him
further for every boy above his own size and age whom he whopped in a
similar manner. It is difficult to say what good the old man saw in these
combats; he had a vague notion that quarrelling made boys hardy, and that
tyranny was a useful accomplishment for them to learn. Flushed with
praise and victory over Master Toffy, George wished naturally to pursue
his conquests further, and one day as he was strutting about in new
clothes, near St. Paneras, and a young baker's boy made sarcastic
comments upon his appearance, the youthful patrician pulled off his dandy
jacket with great spirit, and giving it in charge to the friend who
accompanied him (Master Todd, of Great Coram Street, Russell Square, son
of the junior partner of the house of Osborne & Co.), tried to whop the
little baker. But the chances of war were unfavourable this time, and the
little baker whopped Georgie, who came home with a rueful black eye and
all his fine shirt frill dabbled with the claret drawn from his own
little nose. He told his grandfather that he had been in combat with a
giant; and frightened his poor mother at Brampton with long, and by no
means authentic, accounts of the battle.