Cardinal Newman quite unconsciously placed me in rather an awkward dilemma. At the time when I was anxious to stalk him I heard he was in Birmingham; so I went to Euston Station, and had actually bought my railway ticket when suddenly I caught sight of his Eminence upon the platform. Here was an opportunity not to be missed! I saw him go into the buffet and followed him. He sat down at a small table and ordered soup. I took a seat opposite and ordered food also, studying him closely while he partook of it. But I was not altogether satisfied, and I felt anxious to see him again. So I travelled down to Birmingham, and on the following day I called at the Oratory and asked one of the priests there at what time the Cardinal was likely to go out. Evidently, in spite of my protests, the priest concluded that I wanted an audience with Cardinal Newman, for saying that he would apprize him of my visit, he disappeared. My object had been to perfect my former study by a further glimpse; and a personal interview was really the last thing I desired. There was accordingly nothing left for me but to bolt! [Illustration: CANON LIDDON. 1876.] [Illustration: CARDINAL NEWMAN. 1877.] [Illustration: THE DEAN OF WINDSOR (WELLESLEY). 1876.] My most comical search was probably one in which I was assisted by Mr. Gibson Bowles. It took place in Holloway Gaol. The Rev. Arthur Tooth, "the Man of the Mount," and that most celebrated ritualist, was in durance vile. "Awkward," said Mr. Bowles, "but we must certainly have him. Let me see.... I'm the Secretary to the Persian Relief Fund.... Come along, Ward." What possible connection could exist between the Persian Relief Fund and the Rev. Arthur Tooth I failed utterly to see, but apparently Mr. Bowles made the authorities at Holloway see it, for we got safely through, and I had the unique experience of observing the Reverend gentleman as he posed behind the bars. I found Mr. Bowles an invaluable second when studying my subjects, he was so thoroughly a man of the world and withal so tactful and resourceful that I was glad when we worked in company. It was a great help for me, and I was able to employ my attention in observing while he took the responsibility of conversations and entertainment of the subject entirely off my hands. Sometimes I disconcerted my friends, who were all unaware of the promptings of the caricaturist's conscience. I was walking down St. James' Street one day with a friend discussing the subjects of the day with easy equanimity when I saw Brodrick the Warden of Merton (whom I had been hoping to catch for weeks). I suddenly grew quite excited, and, seeing him turn a corner, I rushed on in pursuit. My friend begged me to desist, and, finding me deaf to his entreaties, left me. I followed Mr. Brodrick into a shop, had one long look at him, and went home to complete a caricature that came with immediate success.