as if he had known her from childhood,
and saluted the young ladies with a hearty kiss, to their extreme
astonishment, which a paroxysm of grunting (wound up by the usual
soliloquy, "Just like me!") did not tend to diminish. A large party was
invited in the evening to witness our performance, and, as some of the
guests began to arrive soon after nine, it was considered advisable that
the actors and actresses should go and dress, so that they might be in
readiness to appear when called upon.

The entertainments began with certain _tableaux-vivants_, in which both
Harry and I took a part; the former having been induced to do so by the
assurance that nothing would-be expected of him but to stand still and
be looked at--an occupation which even he could not consider very hard
work: and exceedingly well worth looking at he appeared when the
curtain drew up, and discovered him as the Leicester in Scott's novel of
_Kenilworth_; the ~344~~ magnificent dress setting off his noble figure
to the utmost advantage; while Fanny, as Amy Robsart, looked prettier
and more interesting than I had ever seen her before. Various _tableaux_
were in turn presented, and passed off with much _eclat_, and then
there was a pause, before the charade, the grand event of the evening,
commenced. Oaklands and I, having nothing to do in it (Fanny having
coaxed Mr. Frampton into undertaking a short part which I was to have
performed, but which she declared was so exactly suited to him that she
would never forgive him if he refused to fill it), wished the actors
success, and came in front to join the spectators.

After about ten minutes of breathless expectation the curtain drew up
and exhibited Scene 1st, the Bar of a Country Inn; and here I shall
adopt the play-wright's fashion, and leave the characters to tell their
own tale:--

Scene I.

Enter Susan Cowslip, the Barmaid (Fanny) and John Shortoats, the Ostler
(Lawless).

John. Well Susan, girl, what sort of a morning hast thee had of it?
how's master's gout to-day?

Susan. Very bad, John, very bad indeed; he has not got a leg to stand
upon; and as to his shoe, try everything we can think of, we can't get
him to put his foot in it.

[Extempore soliloquy by Lawless. Precious odd if lie doesn't, for he's
not half up in his part, I know.]

John. Can't thee, really? well, if that be the case, I needn't ask how
his temper is?

Susan. Bad enough, I can tell you; Missus has plenty to bear, poor
th