Like every dramatic antiquary, my ardent curiosity after some play
named in the Book of the Master of Revels, had often been checked by
finding the object of my research numbered amongst the holocaust of
victims which this unhappy woman had sacrificed to the God of Good
Cheer. It is no wonder then, that, like the Hermit of Parnell,

"I broke the bands of fear, and madly cried,
'You careless jade!'--But scarce the words began,
When Betty brandish'd high her saucing-pan."

"Beware," she said, "you do not, by your ill-timed anger, cut off the
opportunity I yet have to indemnify the world for the errors of my
ignorance. In yonder coal-hole, not used for many a year, repose the
few greasy and blackened fragments of the elder Drama which were not
totally destroyed. Do thou then"--Why, what do you stare at, Captain?
By my soul, it is true; as my friend Major Longbow says, "What should
I tell you a lie for?"

_Captain._ Lie, sir! Nay, Heaven forbid I should apply the word to a
person so veracious. You are only inclined to chase your tail a little
this morning, that's all. Had you not better reserve this legend to
form an introduction to "Three Recovered Dramas," or so?

_Author._ You are quite right--habit's a strange thing, my son. I had
forgot whom I was speaking to. Yes, Plays for the closet, not for the
stage--

_Captain._ Right, and so you are sure to be acted; for the managers,
while thousands of volunteers are desirous of serving them, are