ying them out in a long column in front of me. My guests
looked with pity upon me, and their dismay was evident when I began as
follows: "I was born--I was born--in 1854. I--I----" (break down). Note
No. 2. "I came to London--I came to London----"

"Hear, hear," murmured the sufferers.

Another collapse,--I sought other "notes." "Art--art--Greek art----"

"Hear, hear, ha, ha!" (They were beginning to guy me!)

"_Punch_----" (another painful pause). "Gentlemen, _Punch_----"

"Yes, yes, we know all about that!"

"Yes," I said, "but, gentlemen, before that toast is honoured I beg to
propose to you a toast. The toast, always the _premier_ toast in every
gathering composed of English gentlemen." The joke was then mine. In the
most perfunctory and glib manner I gave the Royal Toast. After it was
duly honoured I gave the second Loyal Toast, "The House of Lords," "The
Houses of Parliament," "The Army, Navy and Reserve Forces,"--each time
calling upon some one or two to respond. The reply for "The Navy," I
recollect, fell to Sir Spencer Wells, who was originally in the Navy.
(The Army had a legitimate representative.) We had Law, Art, Letters,
Music, the Medical Profession, Commerce, the Colonies, America
(responded to by E. A. Abbey)--in fact we had no fewer than twenty-four
toasts; twenty-four or more replies. But this was only the first round!
I was determined to keep the speeches going and not to let Burnand say
another word. So I passed him over, and ignoring his appeals from the
chair, I got through--or very nearly through--another score of speeches,
reinforced by Toole and others coming in after the theatres, until the
closure was moved and the meeting adjourned.

Burnand and I rode to Mill Hill and back the next morning, and he had to
admit I had utterly routed him. The victory was mine!

To keep up the flow of oratory in the second series of speeches I had to
call upon my guests to speak to a different toast from the one they
replied to earlier. This added to the fun. But the best-regulated
humour, such as Burnand's introductory speech, often gives a false
impression. For instance, I actually managed to get Charles Keene on to
his legs,--I think I am right in saying the only occasion on which he
ever spoke. I coupled his name with "Open Spaces" (Sir Robert Hunter,
the champion of "open spaces," had responded the first time). It struck
me that I was paying Keene a compliment when I referred to his
marvellous tale