painter had called the finished figure; but, as I gazed upon it, it
appeared to me that there was some thing defective--something
unsatisfactory in the figure. I concluded, however, that the painter,
notwithstanding what he had said, had omitted to give it the finishing
touch. "I intend this to be my best picture," said the painter; "what I
want now is a face for Pharaoh; I have long been meditating on a face for
Pharaoh." Here, chancing to cast his eye upon my countenance, of whom he
had scarcely taken any manner of notice, he remained with his mouth open
for some time. "Who is this?" said he at last. "Oh, this is my brother,
I forgot to introduce him--"

We presently afterwards departed; my brother talked much about the
painter. "He is a noble fellow," said my brother; "but, like many other
noble fellows, has a great many enemies; he is hated by his brethren of
the brush--all the land and waterscape painters hate him--but, above all,
the race of portrait painters, who are ten times more numerous than the
other two sorts, detest him for his heroic tendencies. It will be a kind
of triumph to the last, I fear, when they hear he has condescended to
paint a portrait; however, that Norman arch will enable him to escape
from their malice--that is a capital idea of the watchmaker, that Norman
arch."

I spent a happy day with my brother. On the morrow he went again to the
painter, with whom he dined; I did not go with him. On his return he
said, "The painter has been asking a great many questions about you, and
expressed a wish that you would sit to him as Pharaoh; he thinks you
would make a capital Pharaoh." "I have no wish to appear on canvas,"
said I; "moreover, he can find much better Pharaohs than myself; and, if
he wants a real Pharaoh, there is a certain Mr. Petulengro."
"Petulengro?" said my brother; "a strange kind of fellow came up to me
some time ago in our town, and asked me about you; when I inquired his
name, he told me Petulengro. No, he will not do, he is too short;
by-the-bye, do you not think that figure of Moses is somewhat short?"
And then it appeared to me that I had thought the figure of Moses
somewhat short, and I told my brother so. "Ah!" said my brother.

On the morrow my brother departed with the painter for the old town, and
there the painter painted the mayor. I did not see the picture for a
great many years, when, chancing to be at the old town, I beheld it.

The original mayor wa