very fairly good _repertoire_ for my people. Did you
ever hear how I took to the stage?" he continued. "I used to be clerk in
a wine merchant's office, and I was also a member of the City Histrionic
Club. Well, one night I went to the Pavilion; one of the actors who used
to give imitations of popular favourites didn't turn up, and so I was
persuaded by a man, who knew that I had been in the habit of giving
imitations myself to our little club, to take his place. It was then
that I first tasted the sweets of an actor's life. It was then I
resolved to quit the merchant's desk for the stage. Do you see that
playbill?" he continued, pointing up to an old time-stained paper which
hung upon the wall. "There," said he, "that's the first time my name
ever appeared on a London playbill. I appeared on that occasion for 'one
night only' at the Haymarket Theatre, where a benefit was being given
for Mr. Fred Webster, in July, 1852." I glanced round the little room,
in which are gathered so many memories of the picturesque past, and in
which so many of the best known men of the present day are so frequently
to be found having a chat with "Dear Old Johnny Toole." There was an
amusing photograph of Toole up to his waist in a hot lake in New Zealand
surrounded by a number of Maoris. There was a portrait of himself in his
first part in "My Friend the Major." Charles Matthews, in "My Awful
Dad," smiled across the room at Paul Bedford and Toole, who were
standing within a picture frame together. There was a quaint old
coloured print representing Grimaldi--for whom Mr. Toole has a great
admiration, and whose snuff-box he regards as quite a treasure--in
private life, and in his clown's costume. But to enumerate further the
interesting pictures that hang upon the walls of his little
dressing-room would be to far exceed my allotted space. I happened on
the following night to be delivering a lecture at the Playgoers' Club on
the Church and Stage, and before I left I asked Mr. Toole his opinion on
the subject. "Why," he said, "I think that the Church and the Stage have
a great deal in common, and I think that they ought to be great friends,
but I don't see that we need reforming any more than any other branches
of the community. For my own part, I have the greatest respect for the
clergy, and a great many friends amongst them, and I always go to church
when I can. I am very fond of going to Westminster Abbey. I like the
music; it's so solemn, you