h was his reward), that he
smote off the dragon's head.

To my mind _The Golden Legend_ is too gentle with this contest. I like a
real fight, and here one is almost as much defrauded as in the story of
David and Goliath. In treating the victory over the dragon with equal
lightness, perhaps the Treasury artist, even though he has not followed
the authority closely enough in other ways, is justified; but he should
have read the text more carefully, for no one can pretend that a dragon
so drastically perforated as this one could follow a princess into the
city. Indeed, it is such a _coup de grace_ as no self-respecting and
determined dragon, furnished with wings, inflammable breath, and all the
usual fittings, would have submitted itself to. Because, given wings,
neither of which is broken, how would it have allowed itself to come
into that posture at all?

Saints, however, must be saints; and their adversaries know this.

It was only, as I have said, with incredible difficulties that I could
get this pound note to study; imagine, then, what pains and subterfuges
were, in 1917, necessary in order to obtain the loan of a sovereign with
which to compare the golden rendering of the same conflict. Eventually,
however, I was successful, and one of the precious discs passed
temporarily into my keeping. It lies beside No. 344260 on the table as I
write. In this treatment--Mr. Ruskin's strictures upon which are
familiar--one is first struck by the absurdity of the Saint's weapon: a
short dagger with which he could never do any damage at all, unless
either he fell off his horse or the dragon obligingly rose up to meet
the blow. Fortunately, however, the horse has powerful hoofs, and one of
these is inflicting infinite mischief. Other noticeable peculiarities of
the sovereign's rendering are the smallness of the horse's head and the
length of St. George's leg. The total effect, in spite of blemishes, is
more spirited than that of No. 344260, but both would equally fill a
Renaissance Florentine medallist with gloom.

So much for the St. Georges and the Dragons of Treasury artists. But
when it comes to No. 344260's portrait of Mr. John Bradbury, Secretary
to the Treasury, over his facsimile autograph, in green ink, I have no
fault to find. This is a strong profile treatment, not a little like the
King, and I am glad to have seen it. One likes to think of regal
features and tonsorial habits setting a fashion. Mr. John Bradbury does