In the year 1847 Leech produced much of his best work, and in justification of this dictum I advise the study of a drawing full of character, humour, and beauty. Thousands of heads of households could vouch for the truth of the situation depicted there, and where is the mistress whose mind has not misgiven her when a request from her pretty servant has been urged that she might "go to chapel this evening"? "Chapel, indeed!" one can hear her mutter to herself; "I've not the least doubt the baker's man is waiting for her round the corner!" I am loath to find fault with such a work as this, but I _do_ think that perfect maid deserved a more presentable lover than the pudding-faced, knock-kneed soldier who is personating the "bit of ribbin." The artist appears to me to charge his story-telling maid with very bad taste indeed. Would the drawing have lost, or gained, if Leech had given us a handsome young guardsman instead of this ugly fellow? He would, at any rate, have made the little fib a little more pardonable. The other figures deserve careful attention--notably, the youth absorbed in the study of natural history. SERVANT-MAID: "If you please, mem, could I go out for half an hour to buy a bit of ribbin, mem?" If there be amongst my readers any who are unfamiliar with Cruikshank's illustrations of "Oliver Twist," I advise them to turn to them, where they will find a drawing of Fagin in the condemned cell at Newgate, one of the most awful renderings of agonized despair ever depicted by the hand of an artist. This great work is travestied by Leech in a manner so admirable as to make the travesty take rank with the original. Instead of Fagin, see King Louis Philippe smarting under the failure of his schemes and the impending fall of his dynasty. By the Spanish marriages the veteran trickster destroyed the power which he sought to consolidate. Domestic troubles and misadventures were represented by Leech in many examples, with a sympathetic humour that never wearies. A party may be assembled for a dinner which is strangely delayed; conversation flags into silence. The host and hostess become uneasy, when a button-boy appears with the ominous "Oh, if you please, 'm, cook's very sorry, 'm, could she speak to you for a moment?" Something has happened; but we are left in uncertainty as to what it was. Or the dinner is served, when an alarming announcement is made: SERVANT (_rushing in_): "Oh, goodness gracious, master! There's the kitchen chimley afire, and two parish ingins a-knocking at the street door." One of the happiest of the servant-gal-isms appears this year--the precursor of many excellent tunes on the same string--delightfully illustrative of the vanity which we all share, more or less, with our maids. In the picture that follows, the sight of the old lady's new bonnet and a convenient looking-glass have provided an opportunity that the pretty servant could not resist. She must see how she looks in it--and behold the result!