Tommy's unearthly shrieks had roused the household, and he hurriedly explained to his mother the cause of her daily vanishing pears, displaying his sketch as proof of his argument. An hour later Mr. Gainsborough opened Tommy's book before the squire, pointed to the drawing upon the last page, and related the story of the boy's early morning experience. The squire immediately recognized the picture as of a ne'er-do-weel who had been loitering about Sudbury for some time, and who had more than once been convicted of petty thieving. "I'll send for him," declared the magistrate; and that very afternoon the offender was brought in. Mr. Gainsborough accused him of invading his orchard and attempting to carry away his fruit; but the culprit stoutly denied all knowledge of the episode. Quietly the squire opened Tommy's book, and held it before the defendant's astonished gaze. He uttered a baffled whine, then, with a laugh that was like a snarl, he admitted his guilt of the morning, and also confessed to having robbed the pear-tree upon three previous occasions. "My man," announced the squire sternly, "I shall let you go free this time upon your promise of good behavior, but if you ever repeat the offence I'll give you a sentence of confinement on bread and water. There is plenty of honest employment to be had in Sudbury, and I advise you to go to work and live as a decent citizen." The man shambled out, and from that day forth was seen no more about the village. Mr. Gainsborough, concluding from the day's developments that he could justly afford to encourage this play-work of Tommy's, which was beginning to take on a shade of importance, bought a large new sketch-book and presented it to the boy. Tommy turned five somersaults to express the warmth of his gratitude; but before despatching the old book to its future home on the closet shelf, he opened it and, with his bravest flourishes, wrote beneath the sketch on the final page,-- "Tom Pear-tree's Portrait." When years had gone by and Thomas Gainsborough had arrived at manhood, he astonished all England by his remarkable paintings. His pictures of woods and lanes, fields and shining water, captivated the country folk by presenting so perfectly the scenes before their doors; and the city dwellers were awakened by his colors to the charms of the wide, sweet country they had forgotten. These landscape studies set Thomas Gainsborough high in the world of art, but when at length he turned his cunning brush to the task of painting portraits, his fame was heralded from city to province. He began by making likenesses of his wife and daughters, and when these were exhibited at the Royal Academy, people exclaimed at the skill and dignity of the work. Even King George III., who chanced to visit the gallery on one of these occasions, paused before Gainsborough's canvas, and clasped his hands in admiration.