The result was, that Sir Arthur liberated me from the remainder of the first act rehearsals; and as I had not to put in an appearance in the second act, and had only one unwritten song in the third, I had, for a wonder, a pretty easy time of it. The musical rehearsals are child's play in comparison with the stage rehearsals. Mr. Gilbert is a perfect autocrat, insisting that his words should be delivered, even to an inflection of the voice, as he dictates. He will stand on the stage beside the actor or actress, and repeat the words with appropriate action over and over again, until they are delivered as he desires them to be. In some instances, of course, he allows a little license, but very little. He has great patience at times; and, indeed, he needs it, for occasionally one or other of the company, through inaccurate ear or other cause, will not catch the proper action or inflection. From the beginning it has been the custom, if possible, to allot some small part to a member of the chorus. The girls have nearly always benefited by the chance, and some have risen to the foremost ranks. The men are not so fortunate, I regret to say. They do not seem to be so quick. Gilbert has nearly been driven frantic (and so have the onlookers for the matter of that) because a sentence has been repeated with a false accent. The following sketch, founded on fact, is an example of what I mean: Suppose Mr. Snooks has been promoted from the chorus, and allotted a very small part, on account of his suitable voice, slimness, stoutness, gigantic proportions, or the reverse. He has one line--let us say, _The King is in the counting-house_. The first thing Mr. Snooks does when his cue arrives is to make the most of his opportunity by entering with a comic slow walk, which he has evidently been studying for past few days in front of a looking-glass. The walk is the conventional one indulged in by the big Mask in a pantomime. _Mr. Gilbert:_ Please don't enter like that, Mr. Snooks. We don't want any "comic man" business here. _Mr. Snooks:_ I beg your pardon, sir; I thought you meant the part to be funny. _Mr. Gilbert:_ Yes, so I do; but I don't want you to _tell_ the audience you're the funny man. They'll find it out, if you are, quickly enough. Go on, please. Mr. Snooks enters again with a rapid and sharp catch-the-six-thirteen-Liverpool-street-local-train kind of walk. _Mr. Gilbert:_ No, no, no, Mr. Snooks. This is not a "walking gentleman's" part. As it is only a short one, there is no necessity to hurry through it like that. Enter like this. Mr. Gilbert proceeds to exemplify what he requires, and after a trial or two Mr. Snooks gets it nearly right. _Mr. Gilbert_ (encouragingly): That'll do capitally. Go on, please. _Mr. Snooks:_ The King is in the counting-_house_. _Mr. Gilbert:_ No, no, Mr. Snooks; he is nothing of the sort. He is in the _counting_-house. _Mr. Snooks:_ The King is in the counting-_house_.