, and,
burning to distinguish myself as an anatomical expert with the brush, I
gave instruction to our family butcher to send me, as a model to study
from, a kidney, which was to be the acme of goriness and as repulsive in
appearance as possible. Of this piece of uncooked meat I made a quite
pre-Raphaelite study in water-colours, but so realistic was the result
that the effect it had upon me was the very antithesis to what I
anticipated, disgusting me to such an extent that I not only declined to
pursue further anatomical illustration, but for years afterwards was
quite unable to touch a kidney, although I believe that had I selected a
calf's head or a sucking-pig for my maiden effort in this direction, I
might by now have blossomed into a Rembrandt or a Landseer.

[Illustration: AN EARLY ILLUSTRATION ON WOOD BY HARRY FURNISS. PARTLY
ENGRAVED BY HIM.]

Amongst other incidents which occurred during this period of my life was
one which it now almost makes me shudder to think of. I was commissioned
by no less a personage than the late Mr. Pigott, of Parnell Commission
notoriety, to illustrate for him a story of the broadest Irish humour.
Little did I think when I entered his office in Abbey Street, Dublin,
and had an interview with the genial and pleasant-looking little man
with the eye-glass, that he would one day play so prominent a _role_ in
the Parliamentary drama, or that the weak little arm he extended to me
was destined years afterwards to be the instrument of a tragedy. I can
truly say, at all events, my recollection as a boy of sixteen of the
great _Times_ forger is by no means unfavourable, and he dwells in my
memory as one of the most pleasant and genial of men. I ought, perhaps,
to say that in feeling I was anything but a Nationalist, because in
Ireland, generally speaking, you must be either black or white. But like
a lawyer who takes his brief from every source, I never studied who my
clients were when they required my juvenile services.

Although I was not of Irish parentage and did not lean towards
Nationalism in politics, it was necessary to sympathise now and then
with the down-trodden race. For instance, I remember that one evening a
respectable-looking mechanic called at my fathers house and requested to
see me. His manner was strange and mysterious, and as he wanted to see
me alone, I took him into an anteroom, where, with my hand on the door
handle and the other within easy distance of the bell, I a