'
Rupert threw his pen-and-ink drawing down before Elizabeth. It was
really not badly done, and she saw in a moment, by the help of the
names which he had scribbled below in his worst of all bad writing,
that it represented the Giants, Pope and Pagan, as described in the
Pilgrim's Progress, while, close to Pope, was placed a delineation
very like Don Quixote, purporting to be the superannuated Giant
Chivalry, biting his nails at a dapper little personification of
'Civil and Religious Liberty.' A figure whose pointed head, lame
foot, and stout walking-stick, shewed him to be intended for Sir
Walter Scott, was throwing over him an embroidered surcoat, which a
most striking and ludicrous likeness of Mr. Augustus Mills was
pulling off at the other end; and the scene was embellished by a
ruined castle in the distance, and a quantity of skulls and cross-
bones in the fore-ground. Elizabeth could not but think it unkind of
him to jest on this matter, while her eye-lids were still burning and
heavy from the tears it had caused her to shed; but she knew Rupert
well enough to be certain that it was only a sign that he was out of
temper, and had not yet conquered his old boyish love of teazing.
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