This incident reminds me of another, an occasion on which I indirectly denied myself. In 1878, when _H.M.S. Pinafore_ was first produced at the Opera Comique, I always used to give a musical sketch at the piano at the Saturday afternoon performances after the opera. I had some appointment at Kensington, and went to the Temple Station at the conclusion of the performance and got into a first-class carriage of the Underground Railway. Opposite to me sat a middle-aged gentleman with a good-looking lad. The gentleman stared at me hard, and I saw at once that he had recognised me--an easy matter, considering my sketches were, and still are, always given _in propria persona_. He whispered to the boy, and the boy's eyes also became riveted on me. I felt like one of Madame Tussaud's waxworks; although, from the manner in which the gentleman and the boy sat and stared, they really resembled the effigies more than I did. At last the gentleman moved. He took from his pocket the book of the libretto of _Pinafore_ and peered into it, taking good care to hold the outside cover with title towards me, so that I might see what he was reading. Of course, I took not the slightest notice of his actions; but I had great difficulty in restraining a smile as the boy began to whistle the air of "The Ruler of the Queen's Navee." The gentleman was not to be defeated: he handed me the book, and the following conversation took place between the Gentleman and the Clown: _Gent.:_ I beg your pardon; I fancy you must be well acquainted with that play? _Clown_ (turning over leaves of book casually): Oh! yes. I know it very well. _Gent.:_ Well, if _you_ do not know it well, I should like to know who does? _Clown_ (handing back book): I do not quite follow you? _Gent.:_ I should have thought you knew it backwards. _Clown:_ That I certainly do not. _Gent.:_ You've heard it often enough? _Clown:_ One cannot help that. It is on all the street bands. _Gent.:_ And seen it too? _Clown:_ No; I am going to see it next Wednesday. [There was to be a morning performance of one of Mr. D'Oyly Carte's country companies.] _Gent.:_ Well, that's very odd. You'll excuse me, you are exactly like George Grossmith. _Clown:_ I knew you were going to say that. Do you know nearly everybody takes me for Mr. Grossmith? _Gent.:_ I am very sorry. I meant no offence. _Clown:_ Pray don't mention it. I regard it as a great compliment. _Gent.:_ Oh, I 'm very glad! _Railway Porter_ (in distance): Sloane Square! Sloane Square!! _Gent.:_ We get out here. Good afternoon. _Clown:_ Good afternoon. (_Exeunt_ Gentleman and Juvenile by the carriage-door, prompt side. Clown, in spite of the printed warning in front of him, proceeded to place his feet on the opposite cushions.)