SCENE III.--_Sitting-room. Full of pictures of friends, presents, and

pleasant memories._ COCKIE _is in cage on table. Here a most scientific onslaught between parrot and dog takes place--of course, only playfully and purely in innocent fun--and owing to the favour with which it is received, the proper action of a little life-drama is delayed for a quarter of an hour._

THE MODERN MATHEWS (_suddenly jumping up_): Ha! there it is! there it is!

INTERVIEWER: Good gracious! Anything wrong?

THE MODERN MATHEWS: Wrong, no--everything's right. My cigarette case (_holds it up gleefully_). Now, then--have a cigarette?

(_Lights up!_)

INTERVIEWER (_suggestively_): M.L.! M.L.! M.L.!

THE MODERN MATHEWS: No, I've nothing as I can remember associated with M.L.

INTERVIEWER: M.L.--my life!

THE MODERN MATHEWS: All right, tell us all about it!

(INTERVIEWER _is not prepared to "gag" back_.)

INTERVIEWER: You were born----

THE MODERN MATHEWS: Oh! I see. Certainly, certainly--but--it's a long speech--a speech, however, I don't think I shall ever forget. We always remember ourselves, eh? and forget O.P., which means other people, or opposite prompter. (_Sits in armchair_ L. _of fireplace_.) I was born in Liverpool on the 23rd of March, 1841. My father was a doctor--he only died a year or two ago. My mother gave me my first lessons, until at ten years of age I was sent to school at Sandgate. There I took a great liking for drawing--particularly for building castles in the air! I imbibed a love for the stage before I knew the value of words, and used to revel in acting to myself before a looking-glass. I left Sandgate when I was about twelve and went to St. Andrews, and there I was the cause of public censure, as it was said I was demoralizing all the boys on account of my strong theatrical tastes. Major Playfair--the grandfather of Arthur Playfair, the actor--had a private theatre near my school, and I need hardly say how I used to revel in being permitted to attend there. But it came to an end at last. I used to write very bloodthirsty dramas, and myself and companions used to play them in our bedrooms by candle-light. We were, however, discovered, and the curtain fell with a thud. I was at St. Andrews for two years. I took a prize for Latin, and always those for elocution. I ran away from St. Andrews once, but having no money in my pocket I went back the next day. I remained there until I was fifteen, when I was sent to Germany--to Neuwied first, and Bonn afterwards. You would scarcely credit it, but there I became a very dreamy fellow.

INTERVIEWER: Dreamy?

THE MODERN MATHEWS: Yes, I became quite a religious enthusiast, and founded a Church.

(INTERVIEWER _surprised--but he must save his energies to be more so later_.)

THE MODERN MATHEWS (_solemnly_): Whilst I used to play with my companions, I was always much impressed by a long-legged, lanky-looking fellow, who used to walk up and down the playground with his eyes on his boots. I got in with him, found he belonged to a well-known Wesleyan family, and we founded a Church to reform the boys. The masters lent us a room, and starting with half-a-dozen we ultimately got twenty-five lads. When my Wesleyan friend left I became head of the Church. In the college was the son of a celebrated divine in London--whom we will call B. He was a very bad lot, using very bad language. One day he asked me to let him join the Church. I hesitated. Told him I'd take a fortnight to decide. I did. It came to my turn to preach. B. was present. My sermon was directed to him. After it was all over he came to me and assured me he was a changed man. I was delighted. He grasped me by the hand and said he should like to preach on the following Sunday! I assured him that it was the rule for only four or five of us to preach. He thought an exception ought to be made in his case. I would not hear of it. "Look here," he said, "won't you let me preach?" "No, I could not." "Do you mean it?" he asked. "I do." "Without a doubt, Wyndham?" "I am immovable." "Then," he said, "go to ----!"

(_Quick Curtain!_)