"And many 's the cobbler who is a poet,--or discovers marvellous things in a crystal,--whereas a tailor, sir" (spoken with great contempt), "only sees the upper leather of the world's sole in a newspaper." Here the conversation was interrupted by a sudden pressure of the crowd towards the theatre.

The two young friends looked up, and saw that the new object of attraction was a little girl, who seemed scarcely ten years old, though in truth she was about two years older.

She had just emerged from behind the curtain, made her obeisance to the crowd, and was now walking in front of the stage with the prettiest possible air of infantine solemnity.

"Poor little thing!" said Lionel.

"Poor little thing!" said the Cobbler.