Artists of renown have lent their genius to this branch of art. Hogarth painted a sign called the Man loaded with Mischief, and this sign is still in existence in an alehouse in Oxford Street; it represents a man bearing on his back and shoulders a woman, a magpie and an ape. A similar painting may be seen before an inn on the road to Madingley, about a mile from Cambridge. Richard Wilson, R.A., painted a sign called The Loggerheads, which has given its name to a village near Mold, in North Wales. The Royal Oak, by David Cox, which is the sign of an inn at Bettws-y-Coed, is well known to all lovers of North Wales, and was a few years ago the subject of a law-suit. At Wargrave, a pretty Thames-side village near Henley, is an inn called the George and Dragon. One side of its sign was painted by Mr. G. D. Leslie, R.A., who has chosen the battle with the dragon for his subject. The other side was painted by Mr. Hodgson, A.R.A., and is a representation of St. George refreshing himself with a pot of beer after the mighty encounter. Not often, however, has the signboard been so fortunate as to obtain the attention of such masters of the limner’s art. {229} In the vast majority of cases the village sign-painter has been a person of limited ideas and but small skill, painting and re-painting the old familiar patterns. The following tale is related illustrative of this conservative bent of the sign-painter’s mind. A pious old couple, who had taken a Public wherein they hoped peacefully to end their days, determined that they would not have any of your common wordly signs, such as the Crown, the Blue Boar, and the like, but something of a quite uncommon and even of a quasi-religious nature, and after much cogitation their choice fell upon the title of the Angel and Trumpet. The village sign-painter was summoned to the conclave, and the case was solemnly opened to him. Landlord: “Well, John, me and my missis have been thinking about this sign, and we hear as you’re up to painting amost anythink.” Sign Painter (with proper professional pride): “Yes, mister, I can do you pretty well what you like; the Red Lion, and so as that.” L.: “No, John, that a’n’t quite what we wants. Me and my missis has been a-thinking as we’d like to have the Angel and Trumpet. Now, can you do it?” S. P. (doubtfully): “Well, mister, I can do un; but you’d better by half have the Red Lion; it’s a dell a thirstier sign.” L. (with decision): “No, John, we must have the Angel and Trumpet, so if you can’t do un, say so, and we must get some un as can.” S. P. (driven to bay): “All right; I’ll paint the Angel and Trumpet, but (aside) I specs it’ll be a good dell like the Red Lion.”