“There,” said Mrs. Lipchild, proudly. “Me and my husband in uniform.”
Matt surveyed the large colored presentments of Mr. and Mrs. Lipchild in their oval mounts, further astonished to discover that his landlord was a policeman.
“What did he do them with?” asked Matt, rather puzzled.
“With his own hand,” replied the proud mother. “They were taken quite plain, but he colored them lifelike, as you see. They would have charged half a crown more each, but for a shilling he bought a book telling him how to do it himself. My cousin Bob, who is in the Post-office, said he ought to be an artist, but I wouldn’t let him give up his place at Brown
Brothers. He’s in the grocery department, and earnin’ good money, and I’ve seen such a heap of artists sittin’ on the pavement, with the risk any moment of the rain washin’ all the pictures out; don’t you think I was right, sir?”