conventional symbols. They were invented a long time ago, by a
distinguished sportsman who was also a heaven-born amateur artist--the
John Leech of his day--who engraved for us (from life) the picture of
mammoth on one of its own tusks.

And we have accepted them ever since as the cheapest and simplest way
of interpreting in black and white for the wood-engraver the shapes
and shadows and colours of nature. They may be scratchy, feeble, and
uncertain, or firm and bold--thick and thin--straight, curved,
parallel, or irregular--cross-hatched once, twice, a dozen times, at
any angle--every artist has his own way of getting his effect. But
some ways are better than others, and I think Keene's is the firmest,
loosest, simplest, and best way that ever was, and--the most difficult
to imitate. His mere pen-strokes have, for the expert, a beauty and an
interest quite apart from the thing they are made to depict, whether
he uses them as mere outlines to express the shape of things animate
or inanimate, even such shapeless, irregular things as the stones on a
sea-beach--or in combination to suggest the tone and colour of a
dress-coat, or a drunkard's nose, of a cab or omnibus--of a distant
mountain with miles of atmosphere between it and the figures in the
foreground.

[Illustration: THE SNOWSTORM, JAN. 2, 1867

CABBY (_petulantly--the Cabbies even lose their tempers_). "It's no
use your a-calling o' me, Sir! Got such a Job with these 'ere Two
as'll last me a Fortnight!!"--_Punch_, January 19, 1867.]

His lines are as few as can be--he is most economical in this respect
and loves to leave as much white paper as he can; but one feels in his