ous and
untrammelled by the conscientiousness of subsequent publication, of
correct draughtsmanship, made only from impressions of the moment, and
not the effort (as in the case of many a professional humorist) of
having to be funny to order.

An excellent example of the amateur at his best is to be found in the
drawings of Sir Frank Lockwood. No one would resent less than Lockwood
himself having the term "amateur" applied to his work; indeed, he would,
I am sure, have felt proud to be classed in the same category as several
of our most popular humorous artists.

[Illustration: SIR F. LOCKWOOD.]

Circumstances connected with a curious coincidence concerning a
caricature (what alliteration!) are worth confirming.

One morning I was taking my usual horse exercise round the ride in the
inner circle of Regent's Park, before that spot, once the quiet haunt of
the horseman, became the noisy ring of the cyclist. At that time a few
cycling beginners used the circle for practice, and their alarming
performances were gradually depleting the number of equestrians. One of
these novices came down the hill, having an arm round the neck of his
instructor, and one leg on the pedal, the other in mid air. He was
unable to steer the machine, and as I cantered up, the performer's hat,
which had been over one eye, fell off, disclosing the features of
Professor Bryce. The next moment the machine, its rider and his
instructor, were "all of a heap" on the ride up which my horse was
cantering. I had just time to jump my horse on to the path and thus
save my own neck, and the life of the energetic Member of Parliament,
who I noticed later in the day, when sitting in the Press Gallery, was
on the front Opposition bench, next to Sir Frank Lockwood, quite
unconcerned. I made a rough sketch of the incident of the morning, and
sent it down to my brother Two Pins, Sir Frank, with a request that his
friend Bryce should in future select some other spot to practise
bicycling. This was handed to Lockwood just as he was leaving the House,
strange to say, on his way home to dress for a dinner at Professor
Bryce's. Lockwood mischievously placed the sketch in the pocket of his
dress coat, and at the dinner led up to the subject of cycling,
suggesting at the same time that his host ought to try it.

"Well, strange to say, Lockwood, I've been seriously thinking of it, but
I don't know how one should begin."

"Don't you?" cried Lockwood from the other end