or of that immense work
deserves the gratitude of his countrymen, and I therefore take this
occasion, before he rises to address you and enlighten you upon the
engineering and the large contracting work in the great city in which he
has the pleasure to live, to assure him as a brother engineer of the
great work which he has performed for his fellow-countrymen."

On enquiry I discovered that a namesake of mine was the contractor for
the Thames Embankment, which was built when I was in knickerbockers.

Of recent years I have had few experiences of chairmen, but
proportionately their mistakes seem to be as of old. In the North of
England last year I was specially engaged to appear before a literary
society, and I supposed, by their paying me to go so far, they were,
with Northern shrewdness, acquainted with the article in which they were
investing. On these special occasions it is strange that a chairman is
considered a compliment to the performer, and most certainly it affords
the entertainer himself amusement. For instance, in this case I
recollect my chairman--a most accomplished and representative man in the
neighbourhood--was introduced to me as soon as I arrived at the hall. (I
may mention it was not my first visit.) He quickly introduced me to the
audience: "Ladies and gentlemen,--This evening I have the honour of
introducing to you a gentleman whom we have all heard about, but few of
us, if any, have seen before. We all know his work in Parliament in the
pages of _Punch_ for some years past; we all have enjoyed the writings
of 'Toby, M.P.' This is Mr. H.W. Lucy, of _Punch_, our old friend 'Toby,
M.P.'" I was giving my "Humours of Parliament," and during the evening
I, of course as "Toby, M.P.," informed the audience at times that this
was Harry Furniss's idea of Parliament, but I begged to differ with that
gentleman, and it was rather a variety for me to play a Parliamentary
Jekyl and Hyde for one night only.

[Illustration: CHAIRMAN NO. 2.]

If one must have a chairman, why should not the performer be allowed to
turn a chairman into account, as that popular and versatile barrister,
the late Sir Frank Lockwood, was in the habit of doing? When he lectured
at Hackney he "brought down the house" in his description of Sergeant
Buzfuz in "Pickwick" by giving a laughable imitation of his
chairman--the late Lord Chief Justice, when Sir Charles
Russell--cross-examining a witness. For all I know, others may follow
the e