e was very,
very poor; but I am sure he suffers little. He is playing at making a
fortune or playing at having lost one: pluming himself on some visionary
splendour, or commiserating some picturesquely broken nobleman in his
own person.

I enjoyed the most astonishing adventure of my lifetime with this
gentleman's aid, and by his express invention. He had secured the right
to perform a play of mine through the Australasian colonies and through
India. Of course there were certain pecuniary obligations attached to
the matter, and, these being disregarded, I ventured into the theatre
with a request for a settlement My comedian was not in a position to
effect a settlement, or perhaps he did not care to do it. He found a way
out of the difficulty which I do not think would have occurred to one
man in a million. He got rid of his creditor by giving him into custody
for trespass; and I, being marched off by the police, had to find bail
until the case was heard next morning. The magistrate advised me that
I had a legal remedy; but my gentleman disbanded his company and betook
him to a neighbouring colony. I was incensed at the time, though the
business is laughable enough now, and I took out a writ against him, but
never succeeded in serving it When I had found my bail (a local editor
was kind enough to pledge his word to save me from durance), I had to
put in an appearance at the police station. There was a big policeman
on duty there, and he went through the essential technicalities with so
grave a face that the farce for a moment seemed quite real.

'What's your name?' asked the big policeman.

I told him, and spelled it for him.

'Your age?'

I answered that question also.

'What trade are you?'

'I am a man of letters.'

'What's that?'

'Man of letters. Write it down. Man--of--letters,'

'Are y' educated? Can ye read and write?'

I was flippant enough to say that I could read and write a little, and
the big policeman entered me as being imperfectly educated. That record
stands against me unto this day.

We played all through the principal towns, and then we took to
bush-whacking, setting up one or two night stands in places rarely
visited by a theatrical company; and I believe that the business done in
these small places was almost always highly satisfactory from a monetary
point of view. Some of the villages we visited--for they were nothing
more--yielded fuller houses and realised better profits than we f