Knight was an artist in a double sense, and looked with a skilful eye upon the features of the mind as well as those of the face.

At the time alluded to, Mr. Knight resided in Somers Town, Mr. Mathews in Lisle Street— the former was an early riser, the latter the reverse, and was at the time I speak of, living en garçon, myself and Charles being out of town on a visit.

Naturally anxious about the successful production of his new piece, Mr. Knight required many conferences with his friend, and each morning visited him, always having to wait for his appearance in the breakfast-room-Mr. Mathews hurrying down, he would find Mr. Knight patiently seated on one side of the table, when he took the other, and made a hasty breakfast, earnest on the subject of their meeting, without making any offer of sharing his morning meal with his visiter (who on the first occasion came with that view), Knight laughing in his sleeve at his friend's omission, and placing it to the right cause-namely, the absorbing interest which he took in the subject of their discussion-sat morning after morning watching the disappearance of mutton cutlets, tea and toast duly, without an attempt on the part of the host to make his visiter a participator in them. The next day and the next the same routine took place, the same friendly interest in his friend's success, but still on no "hospitable thoughts intent."

Mr. Knight's amusement increased by repetition,

I

"and grew by what it fed on" (or rather by what it did not feed on) and at length his anxiety became excessive, lest his friend should recollect his want of politeness, and atone for it—and after the first four or five times (and these calls amounted to seven or eight) if the visiter thought he perceived any indication of Mr. Mathews recollecting himself, he would rise abruptly, and take a hurried leave, tickling himself with delight that he had escaped the now dreaded hospitality which would deprive him of a good story against his friend, and he feared lest the pivot upon which it must turn, should be broken. But these visits terminated, and no word of hospitable courtesy was uttered by the absent host.

The time at length arrived when the merry little man's revenge was ripe; and during the rehearsals of the piece in question, he made the green-room resound with laughter at his graphic descriptions of his excellent breakfasts in Lisle Street, after his successive, long, morning walks. My Husband was in "amazement lost," and full of shame-indeed, he could scarcely, at first, believe that he had really been capable of such neglect: but Mr. Knight so humorously described these flagrant omissions, that the culprit himself was as much amused as the rest of the listeners, at these recitals against himself. He nevertheless secretly resolved that his good-humoured little friend should not have all the joke to himself; and actually sat up the greater part of one night in fabricating a series of consecutive invitations to breakfast, which were dated for every day, prospectively,

for a year, and couched in every variety of form and language that ingenuity and custom could devise and warrant. This task was not a trifle to a busy man, and shows what a true joker will effect, rather than forego his joke.

Cards, notes, letters, were so distributed, that poor Mr. Knight received them at all hours and in all seasons and places. By post, by messenger, by friends, under every circumstance-private or professional - the victim was perpetually haunted by this literary "Bill Jones." If upon the stage a letter required to be delivered, in character, to him-on opening it, he read, instead of the expected contents, something like the following

"My dear KNIGHT

:

"I do not know whether you ever eat your breakfast from home: if you do, pray gratify me by taking an early one with me, téte-à-téte, to-morrow morning, the 8th. I want to talk to you about your forthcoming farce. Will seven o'clock be too early?—for I am always stirring with the lark. The bearer waits for your reply.

If Mr. Knight dined out, before he could swallow his soup, a note would be handed to him, which required an immediate answer, on pressing business.

"Mr. Mathews presents his best compliments to Mr. Knight, expects a few friends to breakfast with him to-morrow morning, the 9th, and hopes Mr. K. will consent to meet them. If he has no objection to leaving home so soon as six (Mr. Mathews being an early riser), Mr. M. will feel much honoured by Mr. Knight's company. A verbal answer by bearer will suffice."

If, after a late evening's performance, the wearied actor felt inclined to indulge the next morning in a half-hour's additional slumber, he was sure to be roused from his pillow by a dispatch, portending matter of deep interest, and headed "Private and confidential," under the "Immediate." And rubbing his eyes open, they would be refreshed by

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"You have never yet visited me in Lisle Street, where I am now living en garçon, and I really shall be flattered by your breakfasting with me any morning that you feel inclined to take so long a walk, fasting. I shall prefer the 10th to any other day.

"P.S. Coffee, tea, and cutlets, on table precisely at seven o'clock.

Yours, &c.

"C. MATHEWS."

If in the act of shaving, an envelope containing an extra-sized card, must be opened, without delay, and presented the usual formula of a dejeúner à la fourchette, on the 11th of the month. Whether stepping into a bed or into a carriage, his progress was sure to be arrested by an urgent messenger, who brought a letter of immediate import, and who would not go away without a reply forthwith. If hastening to a rehearsal, a ragged little Mercury "with winged feet," would be seen flying after him, whose shrill cry would produce repeated "Holas !” or those startling Heys!" which make one's nerves to quiver when heard, arresting our own, or another's progress in the open air, and "Stop, Sir, stop!" from disinterested passengers; while

sometimes his name, pronounced distinctly, would enforce his attention, and give him pause, until the messenger overtook him with his paper mission. Sometimes, sitting in a box at the theatre, the boxkeeper might be seen making his way to Mr. Knight with a letter, which "a gentleman in the lobby had requested might be delivered promptly, and begging a verbal reply;' while innumerable double-knocks in the course of every day told of Mr. Mathews's purposed hospitalities, and Mr. Knight's door-bell was nearly wrung out of its socket with announcements of the numerous matinal entertainments of his friend, with which his writing-table was covered. No matter where, or how engaged, these missives found their way into his hand; and at length the sight of a newly-folded letter threw the recipient into a convulsion of laughter, for this absurd persecution never relaxed, until the three hundred and sixty-five invitations were duly delivered.

KNIGHT TRAVELLING.

MR. KNIGHT was not one of those who affect a popular disdain of

"The Art which taught them first to rise,"

Although they do not despise the advantages accru