I would not be beaten; so I determined to give it another chance in the comic man's speech. I rattled off the following nonsense in the character of the humorous gentleman: "Well, in returning thanks for the ladies, I may say I am very fond of them"--(laughter)--"and I think I may also say that they are very fond of me." (Roars of laughter.) "My only regret is, that I am not in a position to marry all the dear ladies who are round this festive board to-night." (Continued hearty laughter, an elderly lady and a curate in the front now nearly going into hysterics. Some people, fortunately, are easily pleased.) "Bless the ladies! If I thought I had ever done a single act to incur their displeasure, I would immediately go out of the house and drown myself in Alderman Juggins's pump!" The effect was electrical. The enthusiastic audience immediately became depressed, and someone at the back of the hall shouted, "Ha' done with that pump, lad--we've had enough of it!" My heart sank into my boots, and I could scarcely sing the song, "I am so Volatile," which usually concluded the sketch. I retired to the ante-room, and instantly attacked my father. I said, "Well, I have taken your advice, and introduced a topic, with the result that it was a dead failure. I shall take good care never to repeat the experiment." My father said, "Topic? What topic?" "Why," I responded, "I made several allusions to the Juggins's pump discussion, with the result that I made a complete ass of myself." My father burst out laughing, and said, "I don't wonder at it. Didn't you hear me do it? Why, I worked it up all through the first part." "But," I argued, "how could you do that? You were reciting _Adam Bede_." "I know I was," he answered. "I kept bringing Alderman Juggins's pump in Mrs. Poyser's remarks, and it went _enormously_." I do not know what the feelings of the audience were, but I leave the reader to imagine mine. Country audiences are certainly most enthusiastic and delightful to entertain. Of course there are exceptions, and the following is an amusing one: We were at some little hall in the country, and when my father concluded the first portion of the entertainment he said to the chairman, who followed him into the ante-room: "The audience seem most enthusiastic." The Chairman replied: "Do you think so, Mr. Grossmith? Why, I thought they were exceptionally apathetic." My father replied: "Well, I thought they were, if anything, _too_ enthusiastic; for they were knocking their umbrellas and sticks, without cessation, on the ground all the time." Chairman replied, languidly: "Oh, that wasn't applause. You see, our post-office is at other end of the room, and they are simply stamping the letters for the up mail."