Dumps looked more serious than ever; but the greater his gravity, the more the people smiled, and one young lady actually laughed in his face as she said aloud, "Oh, that mock heroic tragedy look is _so_ like him!" Sighmon sighed for the seclusion of number three, Burying Ground Buildings, Paddington Road. One morning his landlady announced, with broader grin than usual, that a gentleman desired to speak with him; he grumbled, but submitted, and the gentleman was announced. "My name, sir, is Opie," said the stranger; "I am quite delighted to see you here. You intend gratifying the good people of Tewksbury of course?" "Gratifying! what _can_ you mean?" "If your name is announced, there'll not be a box to be had." "I always look after my own boxes, I can tell you," replied Dumps. "By all means, you _will_ come out here of course?" "Come out? to be sure, I sha'n't stay within doors always." "What do you mean to come out in?" "Why, what I've got on will do very well." "Oh, that's so like you," said Opie, shaking his sides with laughter, "you really _are_ inimitable!--What character do you select here?" "Character!" said Dumps, "the stranger." "The Stranger! _you?_" "Yes, _I._" "And you really mean to come out here as the Stranger?" said Opie. "Why, yes to be sure--I'm but just come." "Then I shall put your name in large letters immediately, we will open this evening; and as to terms, you shall have half the receipts of the house." Off ran Mr. Opie, who was no less a personage than the manager of the theatre, leaving Dumps fully persuaded that he had been closeted with a lunatic. Shortly afterwards he saw a man very busy pasting bills against a wall opposite his window, and so large were the letters that he easily deciphered, "THE CELEBRATED MR. LISTON IN TRAGEDY. This evening THE STRANGER, the Part of THE STRANGER BY MR. LISTON." Dumps had never seen the inimitable Liston, indeed comedy was quite out of his way. But now that the star was to shine forth in tragedy, the announcement was congenial to the serious turn of his mind, and he resolved to go. He ate an early dinner, went by times to the theatre, and established himself in a snug corner of the stage box. The house filled, the hour of commencement arrived, the fiddlers paused and looked towards the curtain, but hearing no signal they fiddled another strain. The audience became impatient; they hissed, they hooted, and they called for the manager: another pause, another yell of disapprobation, and the manager pale and trembling appeared, and walked hat in hand to the front of the stage. To Dumps's great surprise it was the very man who visited him in the morning. Mr. Opie cleared his throat, bowed repeatedly, moved his lips, but was inaudible amid the shouts of "hear him." At length silence was obtained, and he spoke as follows:-- "Ladies and Gentlemen,