Some little village in the Midlands probably, where _Hamlet_ would be appreciated.

I remember, by the way, the bill-- pity I didn't keep it--mentioned that this enterprising company was going to give a performance in Boulogne, of all places.

It occurred to me it would be a source of great consolation to our fellow-countrymen in that dismal colony to witness Jack Rogers in the ghost for one night only." "That would be eighteen or nineteen years ago," said Roger, with a sigh at the hopelessness of his quest.

"You have heard nothing since ?" "Not a syllable.

Have some more sherry ?" Roger reached his hotel that night in more than mental distress.