“For all this,” said Mr. Snarl, peevishly, “I maintain, upon the unalterable principles of art--” At this they all burst into a roar, not sorry to shift the ridicule. “Goths!” cried Snarl, fiercely. “Good-morning, ladies and gentlemen,” cried Mr. Snarl, _avec intention,_ “I have a criticism to write of last night's performance.” The laugh died away to a quaver. “I shall sit on your pictures one day, Mr. Brush.” “Don't sit on them with your head downward, or you'll addle them,” said Mr. Brush, fiercely. This was the first time Triplet had ever answered a foe. Mrs. Woffington gave him an eloquent glance of encouragement. He nodded his head in infantine exultation at what he had done. “Come, Soaper,” said Mr. Snarl. Mr. Soaper lingered one moment to say: “You shall always have my good word, Mr. Triplet.” “I will try--and not deserve it, Mr. Soaper,” was the prompt reply. “Serve 'em right,” said Mr. Cibber, as soon as the door had closed upon them; “for a couple of serpents, or rather one boa-constrictor. Soaper slavers, for Snarl to crush. But we were all a little too hard on Triplet here; and, if he will accept my apology--” “Why, sir,” said Triplet, half trembling, but driven on by looks from Mrs. Woffington, “'Cibber's Apology' is found to be a trifle wearisome.” “Confound his impertinence!” cried the astounded laureate. “Come along, Jemmy.” “Oh, sir,” said Quin, good-humoredly, “we must give a joke and take a joke. And when he paints my portrait--which he shall do--” “The bear from Hockley Hole shall sit for the head!” “Curse his impudence!” roared Quin. “I'm at your service, Mr. Cibber,” added he, in huge dudgeon. Away went the two old boys. “Mighty well!” said waspish Mrs. Clive. “I did intend you should have painted Mrs. Clive. But after this impertinence--” “You will continue to do it yourself, ma'am!” This was Triplet's hour of triumph. His exultation was undignified, and such as is said to precede a fall. He inquired gravely of Mrs. Woffington, whether he had or had not shown a spirit. Whether he had or had not fired into each a parting shot, as they sheered off. To repair which, it might be advisable for them to put into friendly ports. “Tremendous!” was the reply. “And when Snarl and Soaper sit on your next play, they won't forget the lesson you have given them.” “I'll be sworn they won't!” chuckled Triplet. But, reconsidering her words, he looked blank, and muttered: “Then perhaps it would have been more prudent to let them alone!” “Incalculably more prudent!” was the reply. “Then why did you set me on, madam?” said Triplet, reproachfully. “Because I wanted amusement, and my head ached,” was the cool answer, somewhat languidly given.