ir fiddles." The man to whom honest John alluded, arrived
from Bath that very day, execrating the injustice of the Bath and
Bristol managers, who though they could not but be convinced of his
talents, refused to give him even a trial. Our adventurer surveyed him
from head to foot, and from the information of the man's face, voice,
deportment, language, and person, concluded with himself that he had
little to fear; "If, said he, this man has ever been received as an
actor by any audience in this world, I'll offer myself to the first
company I meet." He was precisely such as the ostler had described
him--he wanted an eye, and was frightfully seamed by the small-pox,
which not only had deprived him of that organ, but given him a snuffling
stoppage of the nose. Such as this, was the whole man in every point,
who actually boasted that he was allowed by all judges to play Jaffier
better than any man that ever lived, but Barry, and who, disgusted with
the British managers for their want of taste, took shipping that very
evening for Cork.[A]

Without imparting a hint of his intention to the ostler who vowed, "as
he hoped to be saved" that he would never betray him (a vow which he
religiously fulfilled) Hodgkinson resolved to introduce himself in some
shape or other, to the company of the theatre as soon as they should
return from Bath to Bristol; an event which was to take place according
to the course of their custom, in two days. Meantime he walked
frequently to the theatre, in order to indulge himself with looking at
the outside of it; and he made the fine square before it, his promenade,
where he gave a loose to his imagination, and anticipating his future
success, built castles in the air from morning till night.

He was at this work when the players returned from Bath. He saw the
gates laid open, and having taken his post at the passage to the
stage-door, resolved first to reconnoitre those who entered, and collect
from circumstances as they might occur, some clue to guide him in his
projected enterprise. As this was one of the eras in his life on which
he loved to ruminate and converse, he was more than commonly
circumstantial in his account of it. "There is a long passage," said he,
"that goes up to the stage-door at Bristol. For the first two days I
stood at the outside, but becoming more impatient, and impatience making
me bold, I took my station in the passage, with my hat under my left arm
stood up with my back to