rchants of
whom I just now spoke beginning to knock the table violently with his
knife-handle, and to clamor, "Waiter, waiter! Manager, manager!" The
manager and the waiter hastened to respond, while I endeavored to guess
the motive of his agitation, without connecting it with our late
companion. As I then saw him pointing eagerly to the latter, however,
who was just getting out of the door, I was seized with a mortifying
apprehension that my innocent compatriot was a dissembler and a
pickpocket, and that the English gentleman, next whom he had been
sitting, had missed his watch or his purse. "He has taken one of
these--one of these!" said the British merchant. "I saw him put it into
his pocket." And he held up a bill of fare of the establishment, a
printed card, bearing on its back a colored lithograph of the
emblazoned facade that I have mentioned. I was reassured; the poor
American had pocketed this light document with the innocent design of
illustrating his day's adventures to a sympathetic wife awaiting his
return in some musty London lodging. But the manager and the waiter
seemed to think the case grave, and their informant continued to
impress upon them that he had caught the retiring visitor in the very
act. They were at a loss to decide upon a course of action; they
thought the case was bad, but they questioned whether it was bad enough
to warrant them in pursuing the criminal. While this weighty point was
being discussed the criminal escaped, little suspecting, I imagine, the
perturbation he had caused. But the British merchant continued to
argue, speaking in the name of outraged morality. "You know he oughtn't
to have done that--it was very wrong in him to do it. That mustn't be
done, you know, and you know I ought to tell you--it was my duty to
tell you--I couldn't _but_ tell you. He oughtn't to have done it, you
know. I thought I _must_ tell you." It is not easy to point out
definitely the connection between this little episode, for the
triviality of which I apologize, and the present condition of the
English stage; but--it may have been whimsical--I thought I perceived a
connection. These people are too highly moral to be histrionic, I said;
they have too stern a sense of duty.

The first step in the rather arduous enterprise of going to the theatre
in London is, I think, another reminder that the arts of the stage are
not really in the temperament and the manners of the people. This first
step is to go t