Editor. My Haymarket card is engaged this evening, I know; but the English Opera House is at liberty, if that will do.
Dr. F. Thank you, I’ll take it—and perhaps you’ll keep the Haymarket for me to-morrow evening? Can I have Vauxhall on Friday?
Editor. Yes.
Dr. F. You are a fine fellow—You’ll not forget Mathews and the minors—Good bye.
Editor. No, no. (Exit Dr. Froth.)—D—n these tickets—it is half my business every day to remember to whom they are promised. ( Writes. )—
“There is a painful rumour in circulation this morning, in the highest quarters, upon a subject which is too delicate to mention explicitly. We hope it may prove altogether unfounded, or at leastmuch exaggerated: but the peculiar sources, from which we derive our information, justifies us in attaching more than ordinary weight to the distressing report. Should any thing further transpire, after our paper is put to press, we shall not fail to communicate it to our readers in a second edition.” (Rings the Printer’s bell. Mr. Pica enters.) Here are two more leaders, Mr. Pica. How does your matter stand now?*
* (i.e.) How much more do you want to fill the paper?
Mr. P. I measured it just before you rung the bell, and I had about a column and a quarter open; but these leaders will make a third of a column.
Editor. Rather more I think.
[Exit Mr. Pica. Editor alters a paragraph, just left for him to insert by an irritated dramatic manager, and falls into a brown study, which lasts several minutes. It is interrupted by the entrance of the clerk, who brings him the card of a gentleman below stairs, who wishes to speak with him for one minute. The clerk is ordered to show the gentleman up, and the Rev Judiah Flinn enters.]