to William appearing in the cast of
such entertainments, and William could not be persuaded to do anything
in this regard unless Epstein favoured it. Afterwards, they would go
over the performance together, Epstein in the role of critic, and the
old man's suggestions and advice and William's own observations and
descriptions of his emotions, and his reasons for this or that slight
departure from the lines and action originally mapped out, aided in the
making of the William Adolphus Turnpike so beloved of the theatre-goers
to-day.

The judge enjoyed those performances, and he rather surprised Epstein
and William both by making suggestions in respect to some of them that
were valuable and illuminating. "How did you come to think of that?"
asked Epstein curiously, in regard to one idea advanced by the judge.

"I think," answered his lordship, slowly, "that a court is the best of
dramatic schools. It is so real, too; there is much of tragedy and a
great deal of comedy too--unconscious, a lot of it. I have always been
rather keenly interested in the study of the people who came before me,
particularly in criminal cases. It seems to me that there is still a
wide field for a play."

There was a long pause. Epstein, who was looking keenly at the judge,
broke in. "There is," he said, "there is--and you could write it, your
lordship."

The judge started. "Do you think so?" he asked, somewhat sharply.

Epstein nodded. And now, of course, the reader of this chronicle has
guessed the identity of the author of the play in which William made
his first appearance as a "Star." Yes--a judge--hiding under a
_nom-de-plume_, a judge of the High Court, no less, wrote _Our High
Court_, that most delightful of the comedies of our own times. There
followed, a few days afterwards, a long talk between William and the
judge, in the latter's room in the court house. William had called at
the court house on business, and the judge, who had espied him in the
corridor, had called him in. For a time their conversation was of the
stage and William's prospective future thereon, and then, very quietly,
the judge began to talk about William himself. Presently William began
to lean toward the talker, intent, earnest; no one had spoken to him
before just like this. His father had tried once or twice, but his
evident embarrassment, his halting sentences, and his fear lest William
should misunderstand, had frightened, rather than impressed,