and a scholar, respected by the first personages of the University of Oxford, by assuring him, from your promise, that his piece will be performed with all possible expedition; then, that it is in rehearsal, and now, by writing him word that you 'protest against it'? I once had a sparring of this kind with Mr. Rich; he generously acknowledged that he had not treated me kindly, and misunderstanding was the cement of our friendship ever after. May this candid explanation prove equally successful! It shall not be my fault if it does not, being ever desirous of proving myself, your real humble servant, "THO^{S.} AUG^{NE.} ARNE." Garrick's reply is very short and sharp: "DEAR SIR.--I have read your play and rode your horse, and do not approve of either. They both want particular spirit which alone can give pleasure to the reader and the rider. When the one wants wits, and the other the spur, they both jog on very heavily. I must keep the horse, but I have returned you the play. I pretend to some little knowledge of the last; but as I am no jockey, they cannot say that the knowing one is taken in. I am, Sir, your most obedient servant. D. G." Endorsed "Designed for Dr. Arne, who sold me a horse, a very dull one; and sent me a comic opera, ditto." In 1776, early in the year, Miss Abrams, referred to in a letter from Dr. Arne to Garrick, made her first appearance on the Drury Lane stage in Garrick and Arne's "May-day, or the Little Gipsy." She possessed a sweet voice and good taste, which had been excellently cultivated under Arne's tuition. At the last rehearsal of the piece, which took place on the morning of the day of performance, Garrick suddenly conceived that a dance of rustics would improve the play, and told Dr. Arne of his idea, adding, "I suppose it would be impossible for you to compose a tune for it in time?" The Doctor, smiling and rubbing his elbow, according to his usual practice, replied, "We'll see what can be done," and calling for pen, ink, and music paper, sat down at the prompter's table, and in less than five minutes produced one of the prettiest dancing tunes ever heard, which, when played by the band, astonished and delighted Garrick so much that, forgetting his age, he ran up to the Doctor, and embracing, took him by the hands and danced with him round the stage with much grace and animation, to the admiration of all who witnessed it.