at a newspaper office all night, and doesn't come home till morning; and Mr. Hob is busy making hats all day long, and does n't come home till night; so that I'm getting double rent for my room, and neither of my lodgers is any the wiser for it. It was a capital idea of mine, that it was! But as Mrs. Bouncer has left me to attend to the domestic affairs, I haven't an instant to lose. First of all, let me put Mr. Hob's things out of Mr. Nob's way. (Takes the three hats, Hob's dressing gown and slippers, and puts them away R. H.) I really must beg Mr. Nob not to smoke so much; I was so dreadfully puzzled to know what to say, when Mr. Hob spoke about it. Now, then, to make the bed,—and I must n't forget what Mrs. Bouncer told me: the head of the bed for Mr. Hob becomes the foot of the bed for Mr. Nob-people's tastes do differ so. (Goes behind the curtain of the bed, and seems to be making it; then appears with a very thin bolster in his hands.) The idea of Mr. Hob presuming to complain of such a bolster as this! (Disappears again behind curtain.) Nob, (without.) Why don't you keep your own side of the staircase, sir? (Enters L., then puts his head out at door again, shouting.) It was as much your fault as mine, sir! sir, it was as much your fault as mine, sir!

I

say,

Mr. B. (emerging from behind the curtains of bed.) Sir, Mr. Nob, what's the matter?

Nob. None of your business, Mr. Bouncer!

Mr. B. Dear, dear Mr. Nob, what a temper you are in, to be sure! I declare, you're quite pale in the face. Nob. What color would you have a man to be, who has been setting up long leaders for a daily paper all night? Mr. B. But then you've all the day to yourself. Nob, (looking significantly at Mr. Bouncer.) So it seems! Far be it from me, Bouncer, to hurry your movements; but I think it right to acquaint you with my immediate intention of divesting myself of my garments, and going to bed.

Mr. B. Very well, Mr. Nob.

Nob. Stop! Can you inform me who the individual is that I invariably encounter going down stairs when I'm coming up, and coming up stairs when I'm going down?

Mr. B. (confused.) Oh-yes-the gentleman in the attic, sir.

Nob. There's nothing particularly remarkable about him except his hats. I meet him in all sorts of hats-white hats, and black hats,— hats with broad brims, and hats with narrow brims,-hats with naps and hats without naps; -in short, I've come to the conclusion that he must be, individually and professionally, connected with the hatting interest. Mr. B. Yes, sir; and, by the bye, Mr. Nob, he begged me to request of you, as a particular favor, that you would not smoke quite so much.

Nob. Did he? Then you may tell the gentle hatter, with my compliments, that if he objects to the effluvia of tobacco, he had better domesticate himself in some adjoining parish.

Mr. B. Oh, Mr. Nob! You surely would'nt deprive me of a lodger. (Pathetically.)

Nob. It would come to precisely the same thing, Bouncer; because, if I detect the slightest attempt to put my pipe out, I at once give you warning, that I shall give you warning

at once.

Mr. B. Well, Mr. Nob, do you want any thing more

of me?

Nob. On the contrary, I've had quite enough of you! Mr. B. Well, if I ever! What next, I wonder? (Goes out L., angrily.)

Nob. It's quite extraordinary the troubles I always have to get rid of Bouncer, and that venerable female he calls his wife! She knows I'm up all night; and yet she seems to set her face against my indulging in a horizontal position by

day. Now, let me see, shall I take my nap before I swallow my breakfast, or shall I take my breakfast before I swallow my nap? I mean, shall I swallow my nap-no—never mind! I've got a rasher of bacon somewhere. (Feeling in his pockets.). I've the most distinct and vivid recollection of having purchased a rasher of bacon? Oh! here it is, (produces it, wrapped in paper, and places it on the table,) and a penny roll. The next thing is to light the fire. Where are my lucifers? (Looking on mantle-piece, and, taking a box, opens it.) Now, 'pon my life, this is too bad of Bouncer--by several degrees — too bad! I had a whole box full three days ago, and now there's only one! I'm perfectly aware that she purloins my coals, and my candles, and my sugar; but I did think that my lucifers would be sacred. (Takes candlestick off mantle-piece, in which there is a very small end of a candle.) Now, I should like to ask any unprejudiced person or persons their opinion touching this candle! In the first place, a candle is an article that I don't require, because I'm only at home in the day time and I bought this candle on the first of May, calculating that it would last me three months; and here's one week not half over, and the candle three parts gone! (Lights the fire, then takes down the gridiron.) Bouncer has been using my gridiron! The last article of consumption that I cooked upon it was a pork-chop, and now it is powerfully impregnated with the odor of red herrings. (Places gridiron on fire; then, with a fork, lays rasher of bacon on the gridiron.) How sleepy I am, to be sure! I'd indulge myself with a nap, if there was any body here to superintend the turning of my bacon. (Yawns.) Perhaps it will turn itself. I must lie down-so here goes. (He lies down on the bed, closing the curtains around him, after a short pause,)

Enter Hoв, hurriedly, L. Hob. Well, wonders will never cease!

Conscious of

being eleven minutes and a half behind time, I was sneaking into the shop in a state of considerable excitement, when my venerable employer, with a smile of extreme benevolence on his aged countenance, said to me, "Hob, I shan't want you to-day; you can have a holiday." Thoughts of "Gravesend and back-fare one shilling," instantly suggested themselves, intermingled with visions of "Greenwich for four pence!" Then came the "two-penny omnibuses," and the "half-penny boats," in short, I'm quite bewildered! However, I must have my breakfast first,- that'll give me time to reflect. I've bought a mutton-chop, so I shan't want any dinner. (Puts chop on table.) Good gracious! I've forgot the bread. Halloa! what's this? A roll, I declare. Come, that's lucky! Now, then, to light the fire. Halloa! (seeing the match box on table,) who presumes to touch my box of lucifers? Why, it's empty! I left one in it, I'll take my oath I did. Hey day! why the fire is lighted! Where's the gridiron ? On the fire, I declare. And what's that on it? Bacon? Bacon it is! Well, now, 'pon my life, there is a quiet coolness about Bouncer's proceedings that's almost amusing. He takes my last lucifer, my coals and gridiron to cook his breakfast by! No, no- -I can't stand this! Come out of that! (Pokes fork into the bacon, and puts it on a plate on the table; then places his chop on the gridiron, which he puts on the fire.) Now, then, for my breakfast things. (Goes off L. H.)

Nob, (suddenly showing his head from behind the curtains.) Come in! I wonder how long I've been asleep? (suddenly recollecting.) Goodness gracious—my bacon! (Leaps off bed, and runs to fireplace.) Halloa! what's this? A chop! Whose chop? Bouncer's I'll be bound. Bouncer thought to get a breakfast, whilst I was asleep,- with my coals, too--and my gridiron. Ha, ha! But where's my bacon? (Seeing it on table.) Here it is. Well, 'pon my life, Bouncer's going it! And shall I curb my indignation?

Shall I falter in my vengeance? No! (Digs the fork into the chop, opens window, and throws chop out.) So much for Bouncer's breakfast; and now for my own! (Puts the bacon on the gridiron again.) I may as well lay my breakfast things. (Exit R. H., making a noise.)

Hob, (coming in quickly, L.) Come in! come in! (He has a small tray, on which are tea things, etc., which he places on drawers, L. H., and suddenly recollects.) Oh, goodness! my chop. (Running.) Holloa! what's this? The bacon again! Oh, pooh! Zounds- confound it-dash itI can't stand this! (Pokes fork into bacon, and throws it out of the window; goes to drawers to get tea things; returning, he encounters Nob, coming with his tea things; they walk down c. of stage staring at each other.) Who are you, sir? Nob. If it comes to that- who are you?

Hob. What do you want here, sir?

Nob. If you come to that—what do you want?

Hob, (aside.) It's the Printer! (Puts tea things on drawers.)

Nob, (aside.) It's the hatter! (Puts tea things on table.)

Hob. Go to your attic, sir!

Nob. My attic, sir? Your attic, sir!

Hob. Printer, I shall do you a frightful injury, if you don't immediately leave my apartment.

Nob. Your apartment? You mean my apartment, you contemptible hatter, you!

Hob. Your apartment? Ha, ha! come, I like that! Look here, sir-(Produces a paper out of his pocket,) Bouncer's receipt for the last week's rent, sir,—

Nob, (produces a paper, and holds it close to Hob's face.) Ditto, sir!

Hob, (suddenly shouting.) Thieves!

Nob. Murder!