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while they plotted a most diabolical outrage。
As for Trafalgar Square； the hero always chooses that spot when he
wants to get away from the busy crowd and commune in solitude with his
own bitter thoughts； and the good old lawyer leaves his office and goes
there to discuss any very delicate business over which he particularly does
not wish to be disturbed。
And they all make speeches there to an extent sufficient to have turned
the hair of the late lamented Sir Charles Warren White with horror。 But it
is all right； because there is nobody near to hear them。 As far as the eye
can reach； not a living thing is to be seen。 Northumberland Avenue； the
Strand； and St。 Martin's Lane are simply a wilderness。 The only sign of
life about is a 'bus at the top of Whitehall； and it appears to be blocked。
How it has managed to get blocked we cannot say。 It has the whole
road to itself； and is； in fact； itself the only traffic for miles round。 Yet
there it sticks for hours。 The police make no attempt to move it on and
the passengers seem quite contented。
The Thames Embankment is an even still more lonesome and desolate
part。 Wounded （stage） spirits fly from the haunts of men and； leaving the
hard； cold world far； far behind them； go and die in peace on the Thames
Embankment。 And other wanderers； finding their skeletons afterward；
bury them there and put up rude crosses over the graves to mark the spot。
The comic lovers are often very young； and when people on the stage
are young they _are_ young。 He is supposed to be about sixteen and she
is fifteen。 But they both talk as if they were not more than seven。
In real life 〃boys〃 of sixteen know a thing or two； we have generally
found。 The average 〃boy〃 of sixteen nowadays usually smokes
cavendish and does a little on the Stock Exchange or makes a book； and as
for love！ he has quite got over it by that age。 On the stage； however； the
new…born babe is not in it for innocence with the boy lover of sixteen。
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STAGE…LAND。
So； too； with the maiden。 Most girls of fifteen off the stage； so our
experience goes； know as much as there is any actual necessity for them to
know； Mr。 Gilbert notwithstanding； but when we see a young lady of
fifteen on the stage we wonder where her cradle is。
The comic lovers do not have the facilities for love…making that the
hero and heroine do。 The hero and heroine have big rooms to make love
in； with a fire and plenty of easy…chairs； so that they can sit about in
picturesque attitudes and do it comfortably。 Or if they want to do it out
of doors they have a ruined abbey； with a big stone seat in the center； and
moonlight。
The comic lovers； on the other hand； have to do it standing up all the
time； in busy streets； or in cheerless…looking and curiously narrow rooms
in which there is no furniture whatever and no fire。
And there is always a tremendous row going on in the house when the
comic lovers are making love。 Somebody always seems to be putting up
pictures in the next room； and putting them up boisterously； too； so that the
comic lovers have to shout at each other。
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STAGE…LAND。
THE PEASANTS。
They are so clean。 We have seen peasantry off the stage； and it has
presented an untidyoccasionally a disreputable and unwashed
appearance； but the stage peasant seems to spend all his wages on soap
and hair…oil。
They are always round the corneror rather round the two corners
and they come on in a couple of streams and meet in the center； and when
they are in their proper position they smile。
There is nothing like the stage peasants' smile in this worldnothing
so perfectly inane； so calmly imbecile。
They are so happy。 They don't look it； but we know they are because
they say so。 If you don't believe them； they dance three steps to the right
and three steps to the left back again。 They can't help it。 It is because
they are so happy。
When they are more than usually rollicking they stand in a semicircle；
with their hands on each other's shoulders； and sway from side to side；
trying to make themselves sick。 But this is only when they are simply
bursting with joy。
Stage peasants never have any work to do。
Sometimes we see them going to work； sometimes coming home from
work； but nobody has ever seen them actually at work。 They could not
afford to workit would spoil their clothes。
They are very sympathetic； are stage peasants。 They never seem to
have any affairs of their own to think about； but they make up for this by
taking a three…hundred…horse…power interest in things in which they have
no earthly concern。
What particularly rouses them is the heroine's love affairs。 They
could listen to them all day。
They yearn to hear what she said to him and to be told what he replied
to her； and they repeat it to each other。
In our own love…sick days we often used to go and relate to various
people all the touching conversations that took place between our lady…
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STAGE…LAND。
love and ourselves； but our friends never seemed to get excited over it。
On the contrary； a casual observer might even have been led to the idea
that they were bored by our recital。 And they had trains to catch and men
to meet before we had got a quarter through the job。
Ah； how often in those days have we yearned for the sympathy of a
stage peasantry； who would have crowded round us； eager not to miss one
word of the thrilling narrative； who would have rejoiced with us with an
encouraging laugh； and have condoled with us with a grieved 〃Oh；〃 and
who would have gone off； when we had had enough of them； singing
about it。
By the way； this is a very beautiful trait in the character of the stage
peasantry； their prompt and unquestioning compliance with the slightest
wish of any of the principals。
〃Leave me； friends；〃 says the heroine； beginning to make preparations
for weeping； and before she can turn round they are clean goneone lot to
the right； evidently making for the back entrance of the public…house； and
the other half to the left； where they visibly hide themselves behind the
pump and wait till somebody else wants them。
The stage peasantry do not talk much； their strong point being to listen。
When they cannot get any more information about the state of the
heroine's heart； they like to be told long and complicated stories about
wrongs done years ago to people that they never heard of。 They seem to
be able to grasp and understand these stories with ease。 This makes the
audience envious of them。
When the stage peasantry do talk； however； they soon make up for lost
time。 They start off all together with a suddenness that nearly knocks
you over。
They all talk。 Nobody listens。 Watch any two