like a--"

CREDULOUS CONJECTURER.--"Benevolent philanthropist, condescending to act
for the benefit of some distressed brother who is--"

PROPRIETOR of CITY CONCERT-ROOM.--"One hundred and twenty feet long by
forty, Mr. Mayor! Talk of that damp theatre, sir, you might as well talk
of the--"

Suddenly the door flew open, and pushing aside a clerk who designed to
announce him, in burst Mr. Chapman himself.

He had evidently expected to find the Mayor alone, for at the sight of
that throng he checked himself, and stood mute at the threshold. The
levee for a moment was no less surprised, and no less mute. But the good
folks soon recovered themselves. To many it was a pleasure to accost
and congratulate the man who the night before had occasioned to them
emotions so agreeable. Cordial smiles broke out; friendly hands were
thrust forth. Brief but hearty compliments, mingled with entreaties to
renew the performance to a larger audience, were showered round. The
Comedian stood hat in hand, mechanically passing his sleeve over its
nap, muttering half inaudibly, "You see before you a man," and turning
his single eye from one face to the other, as if struggling to guess
what was meant, or where he was. The Mayor rose and came forward,--"My
dear friends," said he, mildly, "Mr. Chapman calls by appointment.
Perhaps he may have something to say to me confidentially."

The three serious gentlemen, who had hitherto remained aloof, eying Mr.
Chapman much as three inquisitors might have eyed a Jew, shook three
solemn heads, and set the example of retreat. The last to linger were
the rival proprietors of the theatre and the city concert-room. Each
whispered the stranger,--one the left ear, one the right. Each thrust
into his hand a printed paper. As the door closed on them the Comedian
let fall the papers: his arm drooped to his side; his whole frame seemed
to collapse. Hartopp took him by the hand, and led him gently to his
own armchair beside the table. The Comedian dropped on the chair, still
without speaking.

MR. HARTOPP.--"What is the matter? What has happened?"

WAIFE.--"She is very ill,--in a bad way; the doctor says so,--Dr. Gill."

MR. HARTOPP (feelingly).--"Your little girl in a bad way! Oh, no;
doctors always exaggerate in order to get more credit for the cure. Not
that I would disparage Dr. Gill, fellow-townsman, first-rate man. Still
't is the way with doctors to talk cheerfully if one is in danger, and
to look sole