One property he possessed, so totally at variance with all habits of order, that it completely baffled me.

So numerous were his narratives, that no occasion could possibly arise, no chance expression be let fall on the stage, but Fin had something he deemed, apropos, and which, sans facon, he at once related for the benefit of all whom it might concern; that was usually the entire corps dramatique, who eagerly turned from stage directions and groupings, to laugh at his ridiculous jests.

I shall give an instance of this habit of interruption, and let the unhappy wight who has filled such an office as mine pity my woes.
I was standing one morning on the stage drilling my "corps" as usual.
One most refractory spirit, to whom but a few words were entrusted, and who bungled even those, I was endeavouring to train into something like his part.
"Come now, Elsmore, try it again--just so.

Yes, come forward in this manner--take her hand tenderly--press it to your lips; retreat towards the flat, and then bowing deferentially--thus, say 'Good night, good night'-- that's very simple, eh?
Well, now that's all you have to do, and that brings you over here--so you make your exit at once." "Exactly so, Mr.Elsmore, always contrive to be near the door under such circumstances.

That was the way with my poor friend, Curran.