Fancy sketch of Mr. Osborn (the Heroic Spirit) compelling his tailor to make him trousers for nothing.
My weapon with my tailor speaks,
It cuts my coat and sews my breeks.
Mr. Osborn, in a moment of virile indignation, swiping St. Francis of Assisi one with a club.
The soul of Mr. Osborn doing a war dance (as a Spartan Red Indian) in order to work itself up for a “Morning Post” article.