gallery and behold the benevolent parent.

Through all there is a striking sense of reserved power, and of
absolute mastery of the art. There is no straining for points, no
exaggeration, no extravagance, but an instinctive and adequate outlay
of means for every effect, and a complete preservation of personal
dignity throughout. The enjoyment is sincere and unique; and when the
young gentleman before us remarks to the flossy young woman at his
side that "any clever actor can do the thing as well," we congratulate
him inwardly upon his experience of the theatre. Perhaps, also, the
flossy young woman is of opinion that any clever author can write as
well as this reader.

There is a serious drawback to this first evening's enjoyment,
however, and that is that fully a third of those present hear very
imperfectly. Nothing can surpass the air of mingled indignation,
chagrin, and disappointment with which a severe lady just behind
declares that she did not hear a word, and adds, caustically, that the
spectacle alone is hardly worth the money. Not worth the money? Dear
Madam, the Easy Chair would willingly pay more than the price of
admission merely to see him. And just as he is thinking so another
friend leans forward and says, in a decided tone of utter
disappointment, "Just let me take your glass, will you? I can't hear a
word, but I should like to see how the man looks." As the Easy Chair
passes out of the door he encounters Mr. and Mrs. Sealskin, sailing
smoothly and silently out. "How delightful!" exclaims the innocent and
unwary Chair. "Didn't hear a word," says Mr. Sealskin, sententiously,
and without pausing in his course; and Madam upon his arm raises her
eyebrows and looks emphatically "not a word!" So the Easy Chair
gradually discovers that there has been a very wide and lamentable