[Illustration: The Cancelled “Social.” (_By Charles Keene_)] [Illustration: Suggestion by Joseph Crawhall for the Cancelled “Social”] Fortunately Mr. Crawhall was as delighted to be of service to the great artist as Keene was to avail himself of his opportunity. Hence we have that delightful partnership of which full particulars {137} may be found in my _Life and Letters of Charles Keene of_ “_Punch_.” It is necessary to say so much for the purpose of introducing the subject of the second of Keene’s cancelled drawings. By a great piece of good fortune I have in my possession Mr. Crawhall’s pictorial suggestion for the rejected picture itself, presented to me by the artist. I reproduce it here alongside Keene’s drawing for the purpose of comparison. The humour of it is certainly rather brutal, and one is not surprised to find that the editor considered that it would “jar upon feelings.” Keene, on the other hand, was naturally disgusted at his labour being thrown away, and vented his wrath somewhat unreasonably upon the “Philistine editor.” For the sake of those who would like to gain some idea of the personality of the artist’s friend who acted, as Boswell did to Johnson, in the capacity of a “starter of mawkins,” it may be mentioned that an excellent back view of Mr. Crawhall, drawn by Keene, appears in _Punch_, March 11, 1882, over the following delicious “legend”:— {138} _LAPSUS LINGUÆ_ PATER: “Now, look here, my boy, I can’t have these late hours. When I was your age my father wouldn’t let me stay out after dark.” FILIUS: “Humph! nice sort o’ father you must have had, I should say.” PATER (_waxing_): “Deuced sight better than you have, you young——” (_Checks himself, and exit._) The original of the _Punch_ drawing here reproduced was presented to Mr. Crawhall by Charles Keene. This was the latter’s method of repaying the former for his unqualified generosity. Mr. Crawhall was, however, somewhat embarrassed by what he considered to be excessive payment for services which he held required no other recompense than the honour thus conferred on his poor drawings. The result was a generous contest which resulted in his finally refusing to accept them, “For,” said he, “you don’t know the value of your work. The reward is too great, and our happy connection must cease if you put me under these obligations.” Keene, nevertheless, always afterwards made a colourable excuse to send them when he could think of one, although by this time he was well {139} aware that he was as great a magician as the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street, and could by a few strokes of his pen make the back of an old envelope rival the value of one of _her_ crisp bank-notes.