ately over something. I leaned over his shoulder
to see what he was laughing at. 'That isn't so funny,' said I, as I read
the paragraph on which his eye was resting. 'No,' said Froude. 'I
wasn't laughing at that. I was enjoying the joke that appeared in the
same relative position in last week's issue.' Now that's the point--the
whole point. The Englishman always laughs over last week's _Punch_, not
this week's, and that is why you will find a file of that interesting
journal in the home of all well-to-do Britons. It is the back number
that amuses him--which merely proves that he is a deliberative person who
weighs even his humor carefully before giving way to his emotions."

"What is the average weight of a copy of _Punch_?" drawled Artemas Ward,
who had strolled in during the latter part of the conversation.

Shakespeare snickered quietly, but Carlyle and Johnson looked upon the
intruder severely.

"We will take that question into consideration," said Carlyle. "Perhaps
to-morrow we shall have a definite answer ready for you."

"Never mind," returned the humorist. "You've proved your point. Tennyson
tells me you find life here dull, Shakespeare."

"Somewhat," said Shakespeare. "I don't know about the rest of you
fellows, but I was not cut out for an eternity of ease. I must have
occupation, and the stage isn't popular here. The trouble about putting
on a play here is that our managers are afraid of libel suits. The
chances are that if I should write a play with Cassius as the hero,
Cassius would go to the first night's performance with a dagger concealed
in his toga, with which to punctuate his objections to the lines put in
his mouth. There is nothing I'd like better than to manage a theatre in
this place, but think of the riots we'd have! Suppose, for an instant,
that I wrote a play about Bonaparte! He'd have a box, and when the rest
of you spooks called for the author at the end of the third act, if he
didn't happen to like the play he'd greet me with a salvo of artillery
instead of applause."

"He wouldn't if you made him out a great conqueror from start to finish,"
said Tennyson.

"No doubt," returned Shakespeare, sadly; "but in that event Wellington
would be in the other stage-box, and I'd get the greeting from him."

"Why come out at all?" asked Johnson.

"Why come out at all?" echoed Shakespeare. "What fun is there in writing
a play if you can't come out and show yourself at the first