the midst of his distresses his attention is directed to a "Next of Kin"
advertisement. It relates to him and to the Yatton property; and if you be
the least conversant with stage effect, you know what is coming: though
the author thinks he is leaving you in a state of agonising suspense by
closing the act.

The next scene is the robing-room of the York Court-house; and the
curtains at the back are afterwards drawn aside to disclose a large
cupboard, meant to represent an assize-court. On one shelf of it is seated
a supposititious Judge, surrounded by some half-dozen pseudo female
spectators; the bottom shelf being occupied by counsel, attorney, crier of
the court, and plaintiff. The special jury are severally called in to
occupy the right-hand shelf; and when the cupboard is quite full, all the
forms of returning a verdict are gone through. This is for the plaintiff!
Mr. Aubrey is ruined; and _Mr. Titmouse_ jumps about, at the imminent risk
of breaking the cupboard to pieces, having already knocked down a counsel
or two, and rolled over his own attorney.

This idea of dramatising proceedings at _nisi prius_ only shows the state
of destitution into which the promoters of stage excitement have fallen.
The Baileys, Old and New, have, from constant use, lost their charms; the
police officers were completely worn out by Tom and Jerry, Oliver Twist,
&c.; so that now, all the courts left to be "done" for the drama are the
Exchequer and Ecclesiastical, Secondaries and Summonsing, Petty Sessions
and Prerogative. But what is to happen when these are exhausted? The
answer is obvious:--Mr. Yates will turn his attention to the Church!
Depend upon it, we shall soon have the potent Paul Bedford, or the grave
and reverend Mr. John Saunders, in solemn sables, _converting_ the stage
into a Baptist meeting, and repentant supernumeraries with the real water!