tune to listen
to last evening in Dominion Church?"

"No, sir, I was in the Grand Opera House."

"Then you are not Dr. Munhall, the Revivalist?"

"Bless you, no, sir. I am Furniss, the caricaturist."

"Good gracious! where's the door? Let me out! They have brought me to
the wrong room!"

CHAPTER XI.

PLATFORM CONFESSIONS.

Lectures and Lecturers--The Boy's Idea--How to Deliver It--The
Professor--The Actors--My First Platform--Smoke--Cards--On the
Table--Nurses--Some Unrehearsed Effects--Dress--A Struggle with a
Shirt--A Struggle with a Bluebottle--Sir William Harcourt Goes
out--My Lanternists Go Out--Chairmen--The Absent Chairman--The
Ideal Chairman--The Political Chairman--The Ignorant
Chairman--Chestnuts--Misunderstood--Advice to Those about to
Lecture--I am Overworked--"'Arry to Harry."

[Illustration: QUEEN'S HALL, LONDON. I WAS THE FIRST TO SPEAK FROM THE
PLATFORM.]

That hateful word "lecture"! Oh, how I detest it! In the juvenile brain
it conjures up mental punishment in the shape of a scolding, for to be
"lectured" is to be verbally flogged, and the wrathful words that smite
the youthful ear carry with them just as sharp a sting as the knots of
the lash that fall on the hapless back of the prison culprit.

To the boyish mind the lecturer is pictured as an old fossil to whom he
has to listen attentively for an hour without understanding a word of
his learned discourse. The funereal blackboard, the austere diagrams,
the severe pointer and the chilly glass of water, a professor something
like one of the prehistoric creatures he is talking about, with his long
hair and long words, his egotistical learning, his platitudes and pauses
and mumblings, combine to depress the youngster, who all the time is
longing for the fresh air and an hour of cricket or football. Then the
notes he is supposed to take! True, there is a certain momentary feeling
of pleasure and importance on acquiring the first clean, new notebook
and long, well-sharpened pencil, but it is of very, very brief duration.
The boy won't be happy till he gets it, but he's anything but happy when
he's got it! He sees (of course I refer here to public lectures) some
"prehistoric gurls," as an Irish boy once termed them to me, taking
copious notes, but the long words and learned phrases stagger the
budding scientist and befog his as yet undeveloped brain. I am speaking
from my experience when I attende