ing
until they found themselves breathing the fresh air in Lime-street.

When Stephen Price, the American manager, was in Liverpool beating up
recruits, in, I think, 1831, Templeton, the tenor singer, was playing at
the Theatre Royal. At that time Madame Malibran had made Templeton
famous, by selecting him to enact the part of _Elvino_ to her _Amina_,
and thus a very second-rate singer suddenly jumped into the first place
in public opinion, by his association with the gifted woman who enchanted
all her hearers. Templeton waited on Price relative to an engagement in
America, when the following conversation took place:--"I should like to
go to America, Mr. Price, if you and I could agree about terms." "Very
good, Mr. Templeton. What would you expect, Mr. Templeton?" "Well, I
should just expect my passage out and home, and thirty 'punds' a week,
Mr. Price, to begin with." "Very good, Mr. Templeton." "And all my
travelling expenses, from toun to toun." "Very good, Mr. Templeton.
Anything else, Mr. Templeton?" "My board and lodging in every toun, Mr.
Price." "Very good, Mr. Templeton. Any thing else, Mr. Templeton?" "And
a clear benefit in every toun, also, Mr. Price." "Very good. Anything
else, Mr. Templeton?" "Well--no--I--ah--no!--nothing occurs to me just
now, Mr. Price." "Well, then," said Mr. Price, "I'll see you d---d
first, Mr. Templeton."

There was a very good story current in Liverpool, some twenty-five years
ago, about Mr. W. J. Hammond, a then great favourite, both as actor and
manager, and an acquaintance of mine. About that time a very flashy
gentleman went into the Adelphi Hotel, and after making minute inquiry as
to the bill of fare, and what he could have for dinner, at length ordered
"a mutton chop to be ready for him at five o'clock." Five o'clock came,
and also the traveller, who sat down in the coffee room to his banquet.
He helped himself to the water at his own table and then emptied the
bottles at the next, and at length called on the waiter for a further
supply. When the mutton chop was duly finished, the waiter inquired what
wine his "lordship" would take. "Oh!--ah!--wine! I'll take--another
bottle of--'water.'" "Pray, sir," said the waiter (leaning the tips of
his thumbs upon the table) with a most insinuating manner--"Pray, sir,
would you like the _Bootle_ or the _Harrington_ water?" Hammond heard
this, and agreed, with the friend referred to, to enter the Hotel, one at
eac