understand what was
expected of them. Sherriff, the funny, irascible old gentleman, skulked
about in the back of the scene, and tapped his fingers lightly on the
top of his hat, and stamped his foot gently, with the most amiable of
smiles on his countenance. His one idea of irascible humour seemed to
be to start every few moments to leave the room, and then stop short
half-way to the door, and utter a few additional remarks over his
shoulder, and then to make again for the door with a noise which sounded
half-way between a sneeze and the bleating of a goat.

Maple also, who personated Miss Olive Omlett, the meek, elderly lady,
appeared to have come with a totally erroneous conception of the _role_
of that inoffensive character. He delivered his speeches in a voice
similar to that in which boys call the evening papers at a London
railway station, and lost no opportunity of clutching at his heart--
which, by the way, Maple wore on his right flank--and of rising up from,
and sitting down on, his chair at regular intervals while anybody else
was addressing him.

Then, greatly to the chagrin of the director, the jokes which seemed so
good in print never came off right in the speaking. Those which were
delivered right, nobody--least of all the actors--seemed to see, and the
others came to grief by being mauled in the handling. When, for
instance, on the meek gentleman observing, "Oh, my poor head!" Miss
Acidrop ought to have made a very witty and brilliant point by
retorting, "There's nothing in that!" she entirely spoiled the fun by
saying, "That's nothing to do with it!" and when loud laughter should
have been created by the irascible man walking off with the meek man's
hat on his head, they both quitted the scene with no hats on their heads
at all.

This was dispiriting, and the absence of the low comedian and the maid-
of-all-work tended still further to mar the success of the rehearsal.
For Wake had to read these parts from the book, and at the same time
coach the other actors. Thus, for instance, in the famous speech of
Abednego Jinks the low comedian already cited, it rather broke up the
humour of that masterpiece of declamation to hear it delivered thus:--

"When Abednego Jinks--(Oh, that won't do, Ranger! Take your hand out of
your waistcoat and look more like a fool. Yes, that's better. Now,
where's the place? Oh yes)--when Abednego Jinks says a thing, Tommy, my
boy (Oh, no, no, no! Didn't I tell yo