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hear you tell that story. Never mimd me.

o on.’

OV, er * began the youth.

“ Just so,” said the irrepressible comedian,

“you wanted to tell me that you werc born

“Yes, faltered the youth.

“ And that after spending a few years — -

“Just so.

“So Mathews filed out the whole speech for him. When he had finished he turned to the young fellow and in o voice of thunder cricd :-—

““Now you may go into the next room!

“ Here 1s a story just to show you the difference of opinion In two great actors. The ———— came to Birmingham, where | was cngaged. The play was “ A Scrap of Paper,” and 1 was cast for the boy's part. In this T have to challenge a man of the world to fight. He treats it as a joke, and suggests that the ducl should take place m Japancse fashion, which, according to him, is to cach take a knife and rush. Boy gets very hdgety at this.

“ T used to take out a pocket-handkerchicf to wipe my face at my prospects in the ducl, and manage, at the same time, to let an

CLEANING THE "PROPS,

orange fall. The audience were delighted at this little bit of business. Well, the play was over the first night. A knock at my dressing- room door—Mr. and Mrs. —— wished to

STR AN

M AGAZTNT sce me. | cot a most severe lecture, and the orange business was forbidden. It didn't OCeUr again.

“sSome time afterwards I was at another theatre. Same picee was played ;5 I was cast for the boy again, and Mathews was 1 it As I didn't agree with the on the orange business, I mntroduced 1t agan, believing 1t helped the seene. 'The orange was dropped. Mathews stopped and coughed.

“Ciood gracious,” 1 thought. ‘I've bothered Mathcews !’

“stlly after the play was over, no knock came to the door. On the sccond night, thinking I inconvenienced Mathews, T left the picce of *business 7 out. That night there was a tap at the door. It was Mathews.

“OWell young Trving, what’s the matter with vou to-might?” he said @ “youre as dull as ditchwater. Where's the orange ? Let's have that orange, 1t's the hit of the preee.””

Now Mr. Irving lays his glasses on onc side 1t 1s time to make up. By-the-bye, he considers 1t an advantage to the actor to be short-sighted - he doesn’t sce if the audience smiles at the serious parts and cries at the comic portions of the play.

The face inished, Mr. Irving resumes his glasses. T'he whole make- up has only taken a few minutes. That needed for Alathias in “T'he Bells” 15 the simplest of all such stage faces ; Shviock is the

S,

i 1 most claborate, occupying L 1 three-quarters of an hour, el T Richeliew and Charles 1. SN ranking next. Now Mr.

"w Irving dons the silken

) robes of the Cardmal—

’)%;j,? the biretta and book are close at hand. A ring 1s

put on the finger; a final olance, and the great actor leaves the dressing-room.

[ follow quictly down- stairs - talking together until we reach the wings: a door opens in the scene

Mr. Trving hurriedly re- marks : I'm off,” and the next moment a shout of

welcome tells e that Cardiaal 11 olsey s on the stage. This wonderful change, so sudden and complete— for he had walked straight from his room to the stage, the entrance being cleverly timed — this sudden transition from the man to the player