ting three-quarters of an hour."

"Well, just as you please," said the manager. "I wouldn't."

"Wouldn't you?"

"No; I guess they would have waited another half-hour without showing
any sign of impatience."

I opened the door trembling. My desk was far, far away. My manager was
right; the audience was there. I stepped on the platform, shut the door
after me, making as little noise as I could, and, walking on tiptoe so
as to wake up as few people as possible, proceeded toward the table. Not
one person applauded. A few people looked up unconcernedly, as if to
say, "I guess that's the show." The rest seemed asleep, although their
eyes were open.

Arrived at the desk, I faced the audience, and ventured a little joke,
which fell dead flat.

I began to realize the treat that was in store for me that night.

I tried another little joke, and--missed fire.

"Never mind, old fellow," I said to myself; "it's two hundred and fifty
dollars; go ahead."

And I went on.

I saw a few people smile, but not one laughed, although I noticed that a
good many were holding their handkerchiefs over their mouths, probably
to stifle any attempt at such a frivolous thing as laughter. The eyes of
the audience, which I always watch, showed signs of interest, and nobody
left the hall until the conclusion of the lecture. When I had finished,
I made a small bow, when certainly fifty people applauded. I imagined
they were glad it was all over.

"Well," I said to the manager, when I had returned to the little back
room, "I suppose we must call this a failure."

"A failure!" said he; "it's nothing of the sort. Why, I have never seen
them so enthusiastic in my life!"

I went to the hotel, and tried to forget the audience I had just had by
recalling to my mind a joyous evening in Scotland. This happened about a
year ago, in a mining town in the neighborhood of Glasgow, where I had
been invited to lecture, on a Saturday night, to the members of a
popular--very popular--Institute.

[Illustration: I AM ESCORTED TO THE HALL.]

I arrived at the station from Glasgow at half-past seven, and there
found the secretary and the treasurer of the Institute, who had been
kind enough to come and meet me. We shook hands. They gave me a few
words of welcome. I thought my friends looked a little bit queer. They
proposed that we should walk to the lecture hall. The secretary took my
right arm, the treasurer took my left, and, abreast, the three of us
proce