more than skin and bone. Once we lost him for
two days, and never expected to see him again, imagining that some
mischance had befallen him; at length I found him--where do you think?
Chancing to pass by the churchyard, I found him seated on the grave!"

"Very strange," said I; "but let us talk of something else. It was very
kind of you to come and see me."

"Oh, as for that matter, I did not come up to see you, though of course I
am very glad to see you, having been rather anxious about you, like my
mother, who has received only one letter from you since your departure.
No, I did not come up on purpose to see you; but on quite a different
account. You must know that the corporation of our town have lately
elected a new mayor, a person of many qualifications--big and portly,
with a voice like Boanerges; a religious man, the possessor of an immense
pew; loyal, so much so that I once heard him say that he would at any
time go three miles to hear any one sing 'God save the King;' moreover, a
giver of excellent dinners. Such is our present mayor; who, owing to his
loyalty, his religion, and a little, perhaps, to his dinners, is a mighty
favourite; so much so that the town is anxious to have his portrait
painted in a superior style, so that remote posterity may know what kind
of man he was, the colour of his hair, his air and gait. So a committee
was formed some time ago, which is still sitting; that is, they dine with
the mayor every day to talk over the subject. A few days since, to my
great surprise, they made their appearance in my poor studio, and desired
to be favoured with a sight of some of my paintings; well, I showed them
some, and, after looking at them with great attention, they went aside
and whispered. 'He'll do,' I heard one say; 'Yes, he'll do,' said
another; and then they came to me, and one of them, a little man with a
hump on his back, who is a watchmaker, assumed the office of spokesman,
and made a long speech--(the old town has been always celebrated for
orators)--in which he told me how much they had been pleased with my
productions--(the old town has been always celebrated for its artistic
taste) and, what do you think? offered me the painting of the mayor's
portrait, and a hundred pounds for my trouble. Well, of course I was
much surprised, and for a minute or two could scarcely speak; recovering
myself, however, I made a speech, not so eloquent as that of the
watchmaker, of course, being not