arded as quite a feature when I went about the
place. It was regarded," said the artist, with rising colour, "it was
regarded as unbecoming."

"You can let it grow again," returned Michael, "and then you'll be so
precious ugly that they'll raise your salary."

"But I don't want to be ugly," cried the artist.

"Don't be an ass," said Michael, who hated beards and was delighted to
destroy one. "Off with it like a man!"

"Of course, if you insist," said Pitman; and then he sighed, fetched
some hot water from the kitchen, and setting a glass upon his easel,
first clipped his beard with scissors and then shaved his chin. He could
not conceal from himself, as he regarded the result, that his last
claims to manhood had been sacrificed, but Michael seemed delighted.

"A new man, I declare!" he cried. "When I give you the window-glass
spectacles I have in my pocket, you'll be the beau-ideal of a French
commercial traveller."

Pitman did not reply, but continued to gaze disconsolately on his image
in the glass.

"Do you know," asked Michael, "what the Governor of South Carolina said
to the Governor of North Carolina? 'It's a long time between drinks,'
observed that powerful thinker; and if you will put your hand into the
top left-hand pocket of my ulster, I have an impression you will find a
flask of brandy. Thank you, Pitman," he added, as he filled out a glass
for each. "Now you will give me news of this."

The artist reached out his hand for the water-jug, but Michael arrested
the movement.

"Not if you went upon your knees!" he cried. "This is the finest liqueur
brandy in Great Britain."

Pitman put his lips to it, set it down again, and sighed.

"Well, I must say you're the poorest companion for a holiday!" cried
Michael. "If that's all you know of brandy, you shall have no more of
it; and while I finish the flask, you may as well begin business. Come
to think of it," he broke off, "I have made an abominable error: you
should have ordered the cart before you were disguised. Why, Pitman,
what the devil's the use of you? why couldn't you have reminded me of
that?"

"I never even knew there was a cart to be ordered," said the artist.
"But I can take off the disguise again," he suggested eagerly.

"You would find it rather a bother to put on your beard," observed the
lawyer. "No, it's a false step; the sort of thing that hangs people," he
continued, with eminent cheerfulness, as he sipped his brandy; "and it
can