THE MODERN MATHEWS: My dogs! Call them after the characters I play. Come here Davy--that's Garrick. I adopt the same plan with my horses. I've got a parrot upstairs--Cockie. You should see Davy and Cockie fight. Cockie's got a prize-fighter's nose--Davy broke it for him. Come upstairs. [Illustration: THE SITTING-ROOM. _From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._] _Again by the same arrangement we are transported to_-- SCENE III.--_Sitting-room. Full of pictures of friends, presents, and pleasant memories._ COCKIE _is in cage on table. Here a most scientific onslaught between parrot and dog takes place--of course, only playfully and purely in innocent fun--and owing to the favour with which it is received, the proper action of a little life-drama is delayed for a quarter of an hour._ THE MODERN MATHEWS (_suddenly jumping up_): Ha! there it is! there it is! INTERVIEWER: Good gracious! Anything wrong? THE MODERN MATHEWS: Wrong, no--everything's right. My cigarette case (_holds it up gleefully_). Now, then--have a cigarette? (_Lights up!_) INTERVIEWER (_suggestively_): M.L.! M.L.! M.L.! THE MODERN MATHEWS: No, I've nothing as I can remember associated with M.L. INTERVIEWER: M.L.--my life! THE MODERN MATHEWS: All right, tell us all about it! (INTERVIEWER _is not prepared to "gag" back_.) INTERVIEWER: You were born---- THE MODERN MATHEWS: Oh! I see. Certainly, certainly--but--it's a long speech--a speech, however, I don't think I shall ever forget. We always remember ourselves, eh? and forget O.P., which means other people, or opposite prompter. (_Sits in armchair_ L. _of fireplace_.) I was born in Liverpool on the 23rd of March, 1841. My father was a doctor--he only died a year or two ago. My mother gave me my first lessons, until at ten years of age I was sent to school at Sandgate. There I took a great liking for drawing--particularly for building castles in the air! I imbibed a love for the stage before I knew the value of words, and used to revel in acting to myself before a looking-glass. I left Sandgate when I was about twelve and went to St. Andrews, and there I was the cause of public censure, as it was said I was demoralizing all the boys on account of my strong theatrical tastes. Major Playfair--the grandfather of Arthur Playfair, the actor--had a private theatre near my school, and I need hardly say how I used to revel in being permitted to attend there. But it came to an end at last. I used to write very bloodthirsty dramas, and myself and companions used to play them in our bedrooms by candle-light. We were, however, discovered, and the curtain fell with a thud. I was at St. Andrews for two years. I took a prize for Latin, and always those for elocution. I ran away from St. Andrews once, but having no money in my pocket I went back the next day. I remained there until I was fifteen, when I was sent to Germany--to Neuwied first, and Bonn afterwards. You would scarcely credit it, but