he
requisite amount of faith, announced from the pulpit, that he intended
walking on the water, in the Harbour, after service. Thousands flocked
to see him, but despite the fact that he said "I will! I will!" with
the greatest emphasis, the unkind waves would not support him. Indeed,
since they swallowed him, it might almost be said that the Rev. S----
supported the waves.

For two whole days there was regular stampedes of experimenters to
Hyde Park and Regent's Park, and the banks of their respective waters
resounded with the words, "I will walk! I will walk!" succeeded by
splashes and cries for help.

Nor was the water feat the only one that induced imitators. Crowds
flocked to the Zoological Gardens, and the various houses were
literally packed with people trying to get into conversation with the
animals; these attempts being also marked by a large proportion of
fatal results. One old gentleman--a Fellow of the Royal
Society--carried away in his enthusiasm to talk with a tiger, after
making what he thought to be the correct signs, slipped his nose
through the bars of the tiger's cage, and had it promptly bitten
off--whilst a girl, in her endeavours to sniff the crocodiles, and so
get in conversation with them, fell in their midst, and was torn to
pieces before help arrived.

However, these fatalities only served as an advertisement to the firm,
and hundreds of people, for whom there was not even standing room,
were turned away from the house nightly.

But later on there were hitches. Curtis, whose dislike to vegetarian
diet steadily increased, when dining one evening at his club, could no
longer withstand the sight of roast beef. The smell of it tickled his
palate unmercifully.

"Take this infernal mess away!" he said, pushing a plate of nut steak
from him in disgust, "and let me have a full course--entree, soup,
fish, meat, everything you've got--chartreuse and a liqueur, and bring
it quick--I'm famished."

He ate and ate, and drank and drank, until it was as much as he could
do to rise from the table. And then, in excellent spirits, he repaired
to Cockspur Street.

How he got on to the stage he could never tell. Everything was in a
haze around him, until there was a dull crash in his ears, and he
suddenly found himself drowning. No one, at first, noticed his
helpless condition, but attributed his antics to part of the
programme; and he most certainly would have been drowned, had it not
been for Lilian Ro