At this moment Charon popped his head in at the door, pulling his forelock, and said, “Time, gen’lemen, time!” The house was rising and I took the opportunity to step back, unperceived, into the corridor. Mr. Shakespeare led the procession out, declaring that, as he had come in a galliard, he must return in a coranto, and offering to dance it with Mrs. Siddons, who, however, excused herself, saying that she knew no touch of it, though she had of old taken great strides in her profession. Dr. Johnson turned back, when half way out, to touch the doorpost. Mr. Garrick sallied forth arm-in-arm with Mr. Kean and Mr. Sheridan. “Egad!” chuckled Mr. Sheridan, “Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy,” and subsequently caused some confusion by tumbling down the stairs and lying helpless at the bottom. When the attendants ran to his assistance and asked his name, he said he was Mr. Wilberforce. As they emerged under the portico the crowd outside raised a loud cheer, and Mr. Shakespeare doffed his plumed cap and bowed graciously to right and left until they told him that the crowd were cheering the Prince of Wales, when he looked crestfallen and called those within earshot “groundlings” and “lousy knaves.” As he jumped into a taxi, I heard him direct the driver to the “Mermaid,” when Dr. Johnson, running up and puffing loudly, cried, “A tavern chair is the throne of human felicity. But the ‘Mitre’ is the nearer. Let us go there, and I’ll have a frisk with you.” And as the taxi disappeared down Catherine Street, my ear caught the distant strain, “And let me the canakin clink, clink.” SIR ROGER AT THE RUSSIAN BALLET NO. 1000. WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29TH, 19—. _Saltare elegantius quam necesse est probæ._ SALLUST. My friend Sir Roger de Coverley, when we last met together at the club, told me that he had a great mind to see the Muscovite dancers with me, assuring me at the same time that he had not been at a playhouse these twenty years. When he learnt from me that these dancers were to be sought in Leicester Fields, he asked me if there would not be some danger in coming home late, in case the Mohocks should be abroad. “However,” says the knight, “if Captain Sentry will make one with us to-morrow night, I will have my own coach in readiness to attend you; for John tells me he has got the fore-wheels mended.” Thinking to smoak him, I whispered, “You must have a care, for all the streets in the West are now up,” but he was not to be daunted, saying he minded well when all the West Country was up with Monmouth; and the Captain bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for that he had put on the same sword which he made use of at the battle of Steenkirk.