fixed on
something directly in front of him. He does not seem to be a boy given
to day-dreaming, and he is much too active to sit still a long time.
It must be something very interesting which awakens his curiosity.
Perhaps a bumble-bee, buzzing in and out the bell-shaped blossoms of
some sweet wild flower, catches his eye, and he almost holds his
breath and watches it.

[Illustration: MASTER BUNBURY]

The boy's dress looks very quaint to our modern eyes. The trousers and
waistcoat are made "in one piece," and the velvet coat, with its wide
skirt, seems a garment made for a middle-aged man. As we have
already seen, the children of this time dressed as miniature copies of
their elders. But while fashions in dress have changed, the child's
nature is about the same in every country and period. The
eighteenth-century boy, in spite of his grown-up clothes, was fond of
all sorts of out-of-door games. Master Bunbury could doubtless match a
boy of his age to-day at marbles, tops, kites, battledore, and
hop-scotch, and teach him besides many now-forgotten sports, as
"bally-cally," "chucks," "sinks," and the like.

The modern American schoolboy, studying the history of our own
country, may be interested to know that this portrait of an English
boy, who was a subject of George III., was painted five years after
the signing of the Declaration of Independence. One of the signers had
a son who was of nearly the same age as Master Bunbury, a boy named
William Henry Harrison, who afterwards became the president of our
republic. If we possessed a portrait of Harrison at the age of nine,
it would be interesting to compare the two boyish contemporaries of
the old and the new country. Master Bunbury, as the son of an English
aristocrat, must needs have regarded our colonists as troublesome
rebels, while on his part young Harrison looked upon the English as
tyrants.

Bunbury finally entered the English army and became a general officer.
He was sent to the Cape of Good Hope while the British were holding
possession there in behalf of the Dutch, and there he died in the
fullness of his early manhood in 1798.

The portrait of Master Bunbury was painted a few years after that of
Miss Bowles, and Reynolds here repeated the same arrangement which had
been so successful before. It differs only in that the entire figure
of Master Bunbury is not seen, being cut off in what is called three
quarters length, just below the knees. In both pictur