“In a word,” said Mathews, “I really could not afford the price of cabs.”
“I should have thought that cabs were more economical than a private carriage,” replied Law.
“Not at all,” said Mathews. “Cabs take ready money, a precious article, to be carefully treasured and only parted with under absolute necessity, but a brougham can always be hired on credit.”
Mathews, free of his liabilities, became prosperous, and his latter days were marked by success and happiness.
Of his attractiveness on the stage it is almost superfluous to speak; it may be said with truth, “We shall not look upon his like again;” for though not a great actor, he was unapproachable in those light comedy parts that require dash and go. I remember seeing him play Dazzle in ‘London Assurance,’ at Melbourne, exactly thirty years, to the very day, from the date of its first performance; and though he was the oldest member of the company on the stage that night, he was in manner and appearance by far the youngest.
CHAPTER VII.
IMPECUNIOSITY OF ARTISTS.
If there be two things on earth that may be said to have a more direct affinity for each other than aught else, those two things are Painting and Poverty. The artistic records of the past literally teem with sorrowful instances of their close relationship; and unfortunately the alliterative connection is by no means unknown in the present day.