'This is Mr Lenville, who does our first tragedy, Mr Johnson,' said the
pantomimist.

'Except when old bricks and mortar takes it into his head to do it
himself, you should add, Tommy,' remarked Mr Lenville. 'You know who
bricks and mortar is, I suppose, sir?'

'I do not, indeed,' replied Nicholas.

'We call Crummles that, because his style of acting is rather in the
heavy and ponderous way,' said Mr Lenville. 'I mustn't be cracking jokes
though, for I've got a part of twelve lengths here, which I must be
up in tomorrow night, and I haven't had time to look at it yet; I'm a
confounded quick study, that's one comfort.'

Consoling himself with this reflection, Mr Lenville drew from his coat
pocket a greasy and crumpled manuscript, and, having made another pass
at his friend, proceeded to walk to and fro, conning it to himself and
indulging occasionally in such appropriate action as his imagination and
the text suggested.

A pretty general muster of the company had by this time taken place;
for besides Mr Lenville and his friend Tommy, there were present, a slim
young gentleman with weak eyes, who played the low-spirited lovers
and sang tenor songs, and who had come arm-in-arm with the comic
countryman--a man with a turned-up nose, large mouth, broad face, and
staring eyes. Making himself very amiable to the infant phenomenon, was
an inebriated elderly gentleman in the last depths of shabbiness, who
played the calm and virtuous old men; and paying especial court to Mrs
Crummles was another elderly gentleman, a shade more respectable, who