In connexion with this character I would have the student note that I have introduced into the dog's part just before the curtain a whole line of _dactyls_. I hope the hint will not be wasted. Such exceptions relieve the monotony of our English _trochees_. But, saving in this instance, I have confined myself throughout to the example of William Shakespeare, surely the best master for those who, as I fondly hope, will follow me in the regeneration of the British Stage. THE CRISIS PLACE: _The Study at the Vicarage_. TIME 9.15 _p.m._ DRAMATIS PERSONÆ THE REV. ARCHIBALD HAVERTON: The Vicar. MRS. HAVERTON: His Wife. MISS GROSVENOR: A Governess. MATILDA: A Maid. FIDO: A Dog. HERMIONE COBLEY: Daughter of a cottager who takes in washing. MISS HARVEY: A guest, cousin to Mrs. Haverton, a Unitarian. (_The_ REV. ARCHIBALD HAVERTON _is reading the "Standard" by a lamp with a green shade_. MRS. HAVERTON _is hemming a towel_. FIDO _is asleep on the rug. On the walls are three engravings from Landseer, a portrait of Her late Majesty Queen Victoria, a bookcase with books in it, and a looking-glass_.) MRS. HAVERTON: My dear--I hope I do not interrupt you-- Helen has given notice. REV. A. HAVERTON (_looking up suddenly_). Given notice? Who? Helen? Given notice? Bless my soul! (_A pause_.) I never thought that she would give us notice. (_Ponders and frowns._) MRS. HAVERTON: Well, but she has, and now the question is, What shall we do to find another cook? Servants are very difficult to get. (_Sighs._) Especially to come into the country To such a place as this. (_Sighs._) No wonder, either! Oh! Mercy! When one comes to think of it, One cannot blame them. (_Sighs._) Heaven only knows I try to do my duty! (_Sighs profoundly._) REV. A. HAVERTON (_uneasily_): Well, my dear, I cannot _make_ preferment. (_Front door-bell rings._) FIDO: Bow! wow! wow! REV. A. HAVERTON (_patting him to soothe him_): There, Fido, there! FIDO: Wow! wow! REV. A. HAVERTON: Good dog, there! FIDO: Wow, Wow, wow! REV. A. HAVERTON (_very nervous_): There! FIDO: Wow! wow! REV. A. HAVERTON (_in an agony_): Good dog! FIDO: Bow! wow! wow! Wow, wow! Wow!! WOW!!! MRS. HAVERTON (_very excited_): Oh, Lord, he'll wake the children! REV. A. HAVERTON (_exploding_): How often have I told you, Dorothy, Not to exclaim "Good Lord!"... Apart from manners-- Which have their own importance--blasphemy (And I regard the phrase as blasphemous) Cannot-- MRS. HAVERTON (_uneasily_): Oh, very well!... Oh, very well! (_Exploding in her turn_.) Upon my soul, you are intolerable! (_She jumps up and makes for the door. Before she gets to it there is a knock and_ MATILDA _enters_.)