"
In the next chapter there is a description of the house of a humble
votary of the arts.
"A miniature painter lived there, for there was a large gilt frame
screwed upon the street-door, in which were displayed, upon a black
velvet ground, two portraits of naval dress, coats with faces
looking out of them, and telescopes attached; one of a young
gentleman in a very vermilion uniform flourishing a sabre; and one
of a literary character with a high forehead, a pen and ink, six
books, and a curtain. There was, moreover, a touching
representation of a young lady reading a manuscript in an
unfathomable forest, and a charming whole length of a large-headed
little boy, sitting on a stool with his legs foreshortened to the
size of salt-spoons. Besides these works of art, there were a great
many heads of old ladies and gentlemen smirking at each other out
of blue and brown skies, and an elegantly written card of terms
with an embossed border."
When Mr. Crummles, the stage-manager, urges his old pony along the road,
the following conversation takes place:--
"'He's a good pony at bottom,' said Mr. Crummles, turning to
Nicholas. He might have been at bottom, but he certainly was not at
top, seeing that his coat was of the roughest, and most
ill-favoured kind.
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