ith lots of Medals which brought
forth the remark that he "must have been through the South African
Campaign!" When I got to his boots, which I did with a good high light
down the centre, someone called out "Don't forget the Cherry Blossom
boot polish, Miss." "What price, _Kiwi_?" etc. When he was finished they
yelled "Souvenir, souvenir," so I handed it over amid great applause,
and felt full of courage! The Crown Prince went down very well and I was
grateful to him for having such a long nose. "We don't want him as no
souvenir," they called--"Wish we drew our pay as fast as you draw little
Willie, Miss." The Kaiser of course had his share, and in his first
stages, to their great joy, evidently resembled one of their officers!
(There's nothing Tommy enjoys quite so much as that.)

After the "Nut" before the war (complete in Opera hat and monocle) and
"now" in khaki, I could think of nothing more, and boldly, but with some
trepidation, asked if any gentleman in the audience would care to be
drawn. You can imagine the scene. A tent packed with Tommies, every
available place taken up, and those who could not find seats sitting on
the floor right up to the edge of the stage. Yells of delight greeted
the invitation, and several made as if to come forward; finally, one
unfortunate was heaved up from the struggling mass on to the stage. I
always noticed after this that whenever I offered to draw anyone it was
always a man with absolutely _no_ particularly "salient" feature (I
think that is the term) who presented himself. This individual could
best be described as "sandy" in appearance, there was simply _nothing_
about him to caricature, I thought in despair! The remarks from the
audience, which had been amusing before, now fairly bristled with wit,
mostly of a personal nature. My subject became hotter and hotter as I
seized the charcoal pencil and set off. "Wot _would_ Liza say?" called
out one in a horrified voice. "Don't smile, mate, yer might 'urt yer
fice," called another. "Take 'is temperature, Miss," they called, as the
perspiration began to roll off him in positive rivulets, and "_Don't_
forget 'is auburn 'air," they implored. As the poor unfortunate had just
been shorn like a lamb, preparatory to going into the trenches, this was
particularly cutting. The remark, however, gave me an inspiration and
the audience yelled delightedly while I put a few black dots, very wide
apart, to indicate the shortage. When finished we