Quite unconsciously, of course, Mr.Faulkner stiffened his neck, shut his month, and contracted his eyebrows--evidently under the impression that he was facilitating the process of taking his portrait by making his face as like a lifeless mask as possible.

All traces of his natural animated expression were fast disappearing, and he was beginning to change into a heavy and rather melancholy-looking man.
This complete alteration was of no great consequence so long as I was only engaged in drawing the outline of his face and the general form of his features.

I accordingly worked on doggedly for more than an hour--then left off to point my chalks again, and to give my sitter a few minutes' rest.

Thus far the likeness had not suffered through Mr.Faulkner's unfortunate notion of the right way of sitting for his portrait; but the time of difficulty, as I well knew, was to come.
It was impossible for me to think of putting any expression into the drawing unless I could contrive some means, when he resumed his chair, of making him look like himself again.

"I will talk to him about foreign parts," thought I, "and try if I can't make him forget that he is sitting for his picture in that way." While I was pointing my chalks Mr.Faulkner was walking up and down the room.