Moore mentions in his diary a very amusing anecdote of John Kemble. He was performing one night at some country theatre, in one of his favourite parts, and being interrupted from time to time by the squalling of a child in one of the galleries, he became not a little angry at the rival performance. Walking with solemn step to the front of the stage, and addressing the audience in his most tragic tone, he said:
"Unless the play is stopped, the child can not possibly go on!"
The loud laugh which followed this ridiculous transposition of his meaning, relaxed even the nerves of the immortal Hamlet, and he was compelled to laugh with his auditors.
CONFESSION.
A priest of Basse Bretagne, finding his duty somewhat arduous, particularly the number of his confessing penitents, said from the pulpit one Sunday:
"Brethren, to avoid confusion at the confessional this week, I will on Monday confess the liars, on Tuesday the thieves, Wednesday the gamblers, Thursday the drunkards, Friday the women of bad life, and Saturday the libertines."
Strange to relate, nobody came that week to confess their sins.
A SLEEPY DEACON.
There are times and seasons when sleep is never appropriate, and with these may be classed the sleep of the good old Cincinnati deacon.
The deacon was the owner and overseer of a large pork-packing establishment. His duty it was to stand at the head of the scalding trough, watch in hand, to "time" the length of the scald, crying "Hog in!" when the just slaughtered hog was to be thrown into the trough, and "Hog out!" when the watch told three minutes. One week the press of business compelled the packers to unusually hard labor, and Saturday night found the deacon completely exhausted. Indeed, he was almost sick the next morning, when church time came; but he was a leading member, and it was his duty to attend the usual Sabbath service, if he could. He went. The occasion was of unusual solemnity, as a revival was in progress. The minister preached a sermon, well calculated for effect. His peroration was a climax of great beauty. Assuming the attitude of one intently listening, he recited to the breathless auditory: