Bradlaugh, who was a willing subject, asked me upon entering my studio rather breezily whether I wished him to stand upon "'is 'ead or 'is 'eels," so he quite appreciated the situation.
There are people who become nervous about their clothes. I have known a peer object to spats because they did not look nice in a picture. One man who was a noted dandy grew very concerned about his trousers. After making innumerable efforts to persuade him to stand still, I was obliged to wait while he explained about his clothes.
"My trousers are usually perfect, and without a crease," he said, bending to look at them, while he bagged out the knees and found creases in every direction. The more creases he saw the more concerned he became and looked at them in grieved surprise as though he had never seen them before.
A sitter who worried over his clothes came to me in the form of a gentleman from Islington, who wore the most extraordinary trousers, for which he continually apologized, and seemed quite oblivious of the fact that I was drawing him in profile. Every other moment he would turn full face to me with some remark ending with another apology for his trousers (which reminded me of the first Lord Lytton's, they were so wide at the foot).
"Please remember I am drawing you in profile," I would interject occasionally, as he turned his face to me, and each time he would try to remember, apologize for his nether garments, and his forgetfulness, raising his hat and bowing to me at every apology. Why he was so conscious of his clothes I do not know, unless he found their cut necessary to Islington.
À propos of clothes. After being at Tattersall's one day, I went with Mr. Sterling Stuart to lunch, and afterwards we proceeded to his dressing-room to choose a suit which he was to wear when I drew his caricature. As he gave me a free hand I found one which attracted my eye immediately; it was an old tweed with a good broad, brown stripe, and I felt there was no question to which was the best for my purpose.
He appeared the next day in my studio looking the pink of perfection, and as I surveyed him I suddenly realized with dismay that his trousers did not match the incomparable coat. I drew his attention to what I imagined was an oversight.
"Well, my boy! do you think," he said, "that the man who built that coat could have lived to build the trousers too?"
THE REV. R. J. CAMPBELL. 1904.