viper" in his face, he was inclined to resent it forcibly.

Yardsley. I don't blame him. Seems to me a man of your intelligence
ought to know better than to rehearse on a cable-car, anyhow, to say
nothing of stepping on a man's corns.

Barlow. Of course I apologized; but he was a persistent old codger,
and demanded an explanation of my epithet.

Perkins. It's a wonder he didn't have you put off. A man doesn't
like to be insulted even if he does ride on the cable.

Barlow. Oh, I appeased him. I told him I was rehearsing. That I
was an amateur actor.

Mrs. Perkins. And of course he was satisfied.

Barlow. Yes; at least I judge so. He said that my confession was
humiliation enough, without his announcing to the public what he
thought I was; and he added, to the man next him, that he thought the
public was exposed to enough danger on the cable cars without having
lunatics thrust upon them at every turning.

Perkins. He must have been a bright old man.

Mrs. Perkins. Or a very crabbed old person.

Barlow. Oh, well, it was an experience, but it rather upset me, and
for the life of me I haven't been able to remember the opening lines
of the scene since.

Perkins. Well, if the audience drive you off the stage, you can sue
the cable company. They ought to be careful how they lurch a man's
brains out.

Yardsley. That's right--joke ahead. It's fun for you. All you've
got to do is to sit out in front and pull the curtain up and down
when we ring a bell. You're a great one to talk about brains, you
are. It's a wonder to me you don't swoon under your responsibility.

Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). So once for all, as he says, so say I--

Perkins. Ah! Indeed! You take his part, do you?

Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). You must leave this house at once and
forever. I once thought I loved you, but now all is changed, and I
take this opportunity to thank my deliverer, Fenderson Featherhead--

Perkins. Oh--ah--rehearsing. I see. I thought you'd gone over to
the enemy, my dear. Featherhead, step up and accept the lady's
thanks. Cobb, join me in the dining room, and we'll drown our
differences in tasting the punch, which, between you and me, is
likely to be the best part of to-night's function, for I made it
myself though, if Tom Harkaway is in the audience, and Bess follows
out her plan of having the flowing bowl within reach all the evening,
I'm afraid it'll need an under-study along about nine o