Confound it! you needn't charge so high. (rubbing his breast.) You've knocked the wind out of me. (seizes him.)

Here, let go—blow your wind—I'm in a hurry.

(dragging him back.) So am I.

Well, call again next week, (aside.) I'm in for it again, the same old song of fading away, I suppose.

(pointing to chair.) Sit down.

I'd rather not.

I insist on it! (takes chair.)

Oh ! if you're going to get nasty over it, I don't mind, to oblige you. (sits down.)

(feeling in his pocket.) Now then sir, don't you think—

Certainly, I'm quite of your opinion. (rising.) There's a gentleman anxious to see me profession- ally—good bye.

(detaining him.) He can wait.

I can't though ; besides, you mustn't keep Landseer waiting—Sir Edward won't like it.

(producing photographic cards, and showing them to Angelo.) Now sir, perhaps you'll have the goodness to inform me what you call these ?

(inspecting them, and looking round anxiously, aside.) That savage will be here directly. Call those? Well, to let you into a professional secret, they're cards, and I'm prepared to stand by the consequence of the assertion.

I know they're cards, but what's on 'em. (holds them close to M. Angelo.)

The Academy won't like my letting you into the mysteries.

(angrily.) What's on them ?

Your fingers ; now don't you tell anybody.

This equivocation is useless, sir. What was on them yesterday ?

My fingers ! don't you go asking me any more professional questions, you'll get me into trouble, you will, (rises.)

(rising.) This subterfuge won't save you. Yesterday I paid you six shillings for those cards, and they had my portrait on them, warranted not to fade. Oblige me by scrutinizing them, and then inform me if they haven't faded, (gives him the cards, which are perfectly blank.)

(inspecting them.) They haven't faded, certainly not. (looking at them, closely.) I can't see a vestige of anything, they haven't faded, they've vanished. I never said they wouldn't vanish. I'm undergoing the process myself, (attempts to go.)

(stopping him.) Not if I know it, till you've refunded my six shillings.

Why didn't you say so at once, (feeling in pocket, takes out a shilling.) There's one. (looking anxiously round.) Bobby Jingo ! I think I hear him. (to Staggers.) I say, take a cheque on Coutts' for the balance, or stop, you haven't got change for a five pound note, have you ?

Yes !

That's awkward.

On the contrary, I think its rather refreshing.

Oblige me by allowing me to know best. I say it is awkward.

To have change ?

No, not to have the note, (aside.) This is very embarassing. (reflecting.)

I want—

(stopping him.) Don't interrupt me. You very nearly robbed the world of—

Six shillings !

No! of an idea, (aside.) What a mercenary old blackguard. I have it! There's a gentleman owes me several pounds, (aside.) I shall get them too if Bob comes ; perhaps you wouldn't mind receiving them, or if that proposition don't suit, I'm prepared to make an alarming sacrifice. I'll take your photograph by a new process, and colour them for nothing. I'll be back in ten minutes ; in the meantime you can amuse yourself with the camera. I dare say you'll find it a source of pleasing excitement. (looking about anxiously, aside.) He can't be long now. I say you mustn't detain me any longer, back in ten minutes au revoir. (is about to go.)

Are you deceiving me ?

You may depend on me—good bye.

Now I'm alone again; solitude is always suggestive of strychnine and despair since I've lost Caroline—I've dissipated a small fortune in advertising for her. (takes out newspaper.) Here it is as plain as fourpence a line can make it. (reads.) "Anybody giving information respecting Caroline Cropp, shall be handsomely rewarded, by applying to Ebenezer Staggers, Muggin's-row, Pimlico." I've been inundated with replies—there have been fifty crops in the field, but the real Caroline isn't to be had; last June I was attracted to Brighton for a small change— three shillings and sixpence—I made Caroline's acquaintance by the sad sea wave—she'd accidentally dropped this handkerchief (takes out handkerchief) I'll waive it, not the handkerchief, no, the subject it's too painful—she was at that time commercially interested in tripe—but her heart was above it—anatomically speaking it would be—aided by an aged parent she disposed of that nourishing diet to the public—her only brother was absent in America. The poetical situation of the entire family was too affecting for my sensitive nature—I loved her—proposed—was accepted, and composed an Ode to Tripe as a delicate attention to Caroline. Alas ! that wasn't all I owed to tripe—no! one fatal night, t'was a Friday, I'd partaken of that article in defiance of the popular ditty—scorning superstition, I was sauntering home listening to the "murmur of the tide," Then two myrmidons of the law flew at me, seized me. bound me tight—yes, they were tight—they wouldn't let go, appeal was of no avail—they wouldn't hear me, they refused even to listen to the murmer of the tied, although I've every reason to believe I rose into eloquence more than once—with an incorrectness that became irritating I was informed at intervals as they dragged my body along the sand that they "knowed I was the cove," when I knowed I wasn't. It appears that another blackguard called Staggers had committed a forgery and fled to Brighton. My name was Staggers, Brighton my residence,so the law, with its usual discrimination, took me for the other man—the inexorable law demanded a Staggers—I was flung into a dungeon, but the law had a Staggers— after three weeks detention my case came on—I came off, honourably acquitted—the real Staggers was captured— released, I flew to Brighton—Caroline's residence was shut up—so was I. A notice informed the public the business was sold—so was I. Since that day I've been wandering about a victim to circumstances—excitement baa become necessary to my repose—I must be up and doing—my brain grows obscure. Ah ! here's the obscura (arranges the camera, puts cloth over his head and appears as if endeavouring to focus something) Yes, I'm an altered man, grief has left its awful mark on— Enter Bob Cropp C, who immediately gives him a whack over the back with a stick. My back ! oh Lord !

Marry her, won't you? Snakes, I'll riddle you (stops at footlights, then runs him round again).

Now we're off again.

(stopping) Now what have you got to say ?

(revolving) Nothing till I have done revolving. I shall come round directly, and then I mean to give you in charge of the tallest policeman I can find.

Oh, snakes ! here's a mistake ! Took you for the other man.

Well, don't do it again. I'm always being taken for the other man. You've turned every drop of blood in me twice; how would you like it ?

I'm excited. You'd be excited too if you'd gone through what I have. I didn't hurt you, did I ?

Didn't you though ? I ought to know (rubs back).

Serves you jolly well right! What business had you looking through that machine. Took you for Michael Angelo.

I'm clawed ! Look here (points to coat collar) and spun round like a dancing dervish, (aside) He must be a pupil of Turner's. My head's swimming now.

(looking about room) Where is he. I'll pound him into smash if I catch him—that's the second blackguard that's jilted my sister—the other was a convict—I'd like to get the pair of 'em—snakes, I would, I'd throttle 'em. (to Staggers) What are you doing here, located perhaps ?

Certainly not, I'm waiting for that rascal, Michael Angelo.

What's he done for you ?

Nothing, and charged me six shillings for it.

What are you going to do for him ?

Punch his head, and charge him six shillings for it.

Mean it ?

I do.

Give us your flipper. I'll help you. Shouldn't wonder if he ain't stowed somewhere—located to the garret. You stay here, I'll track him down like a beaver. Exit centre.