l-boy at an inadequate salary. Our Representative managed to
interest the lad in the inspection of a numismatic representation of
Her Most Gracious Majesty, which he happened to have brought with him
on the back of half-a-crown, and with which Our Representative toyed,
holding it between the thumb and dexter finger of the right hand. We
give the result in Our Representative's own words:--

"Come this way," said the boy, on whom the sight of the coin seemed
to operate like some weird talisman, leading me to a remote part
of the stage, the floor of which had been tastefully littered with
orange-peel in a variety of patterns; "we shall be comfortabler."

"Now tell me," I said, "about this new piece."

"It's what they call a Tragedy," said the boy.

"Ah!" I replied, "that is interesting; but I want to know about the
Author. What do you think of him?"

"The horther? Oh my!" said the precocious lad, producing an apple from
his trousers' pocket, but his right eye still fixed on the talisman,
"'e don't count. Why we none of us pays no attention to 'im. Crikey,
you should 'a seen 'im come a cropper on his nut down them new steps.
But, look 'ere, Sir," he continued, more solemnly, "I'm a tellin'
yer secrets, I am; and if DILEY were to 'ear of it, I'd get a proper
jacketin'. Swear you won't peach."

I gave the requisite pledge. "And that ere arf-crown?" he said. I
nodded assent to what was evidently in his mind. Then he resumed.
"It's a beautiful piece. The play, I mean," he explained; being
fearful lest I should consider him as over-eager for the coveted and
covenanted reward. "I'm sure o' that. The horther says so, and DILEY
says so, and Miss O'GRADY says so; she's got the 'eroine to play,--and
oh, don't she die in the lawst Act just proper, with pink light and
a couple o' angels to carry 'er up! Then there's Mr. KEANE 'ARRIS, 'e
touches 'em all up with 'is sword, 'places his back to the wall, and
defies the mob,' is what the book says. So you may take it from me,
it's fust-rate."

I thanked my intelligent little friend for his information, and was
proceeding to put a further question about the music for this new
Drama, which, as everyone will soon know, is to be a real _chef
d'oeuvre_ of Sir HAUTHOR SUNNIVUN, when a step was heard approaching
across the stage--the deepest, by the way, in London--to where we were
talking.

"That's 'im," said the boy, trembling. "'E's a noble-'earted master,
so kind and generous, but 'e