'If we go on like this for a hundred years,' Miss West said to me, in confidence, 'we shall become an institution. Sheridan has seven already, and his wife is quite a young woman; J. H. has five, and Clarance four--and more coming, my dear!' That was the chronic condition of the wives. There were always more coming. Sheridan, J. H., and Clarance were the eldest of Josey West's brothers, and were well known to the British theatrical public in our quarter of London. In the commencement of our intimacy the constant introduction of members of the family, of whose existence I had been previously ignorant, was very confusing to me, especially as Miss West, without preliminary explanation, spoke of all her relatives by their Christian names, and placed me on a footing of personal intimacy with them. I used to write lists of the names, with descriptions appended, and privately study them, so that I might not make mistakes in addressing them, but some of them were always in a tangle in my mind. The Sunday-night suppers were things to remember; every available article of crockery in the house was pressed into service, and as even the youngest members of the family were accustomed to late hours and late suppers, the result may be imagined. Those for whom there was no room at the table had their supper on chairs, on stools, or on their laps as they sat on the ground. It was very rough and undignified, but it was delightfully enjoyable. The chatter, the laughter, the ringing voices of one and another trying to make themselves heard, the good humour, the free-handed and free-hearted hospitality of those merry meetings are present to me, as I recall the reminiscence. There was always plenty to talk about, and plenty of words spoken that were worth listening to. A theatre in which one of the family was engaged was doing a bad business, and the actors were compelled to work on half salaries; one or two others were going on a provincial tour; another was out of an engagement; a manager had failed and the theatre was closed; and so on, and so on. 'There's always something,' said Miss West. Directly one saves a bit of money--it's precious little one has the opportunity of saving--something happens that sucks it up. But, bless your heart! what else can be expected with such swarms of children as we've got in the family!' 'If a legitimate actor,' said Turk moodily, 'could be certain of a regular engagement, it would be all right; but the public taste is vitiated--vitiated! They want novelty; they're not satisfied with legitimate business. Why, if any one of us had happened to be born covered from head to foot with red pimples, with a green sprout sticking in the middle of each of them, he could command his fifty pound a week, while a man of sterling talent is compelled to vegetate on a paltry fifty bob!' This sally was received with screams of laughter, and cries of Bravo, Turk!'