And so the sketch runs on, until, in speaking of the universal manner in which music is appreciated in England by all classes, Mr. Grossmith goes on to say:  “We have made rapid strides, so have our servants.  They don’t know how to dust the piano, but they can play it.  Everybody plays the piano, from the Peerage to the School Board.  Then look how music has crept into our homes and social circles.  Besides the piano, the mother and daughters play the banjo, the son plays the first fiddle, and the father the second fiddle—­as usual.  I know of a Lord Mayor who plays the trombone, a clergyman who plays the big drum—­that’s a nice unpretentious, giddy instrument!—­and I know of any number of members of Parliament who blow their own trumpets!!” And so the notes go brightly on through many pages.

[Illustration:  THE STUDY.] [Illustration:  MR. WEEDON GROSSMITH.]

“This,” explained my host, “is a fair specimen of the method I employ in preparing a drawing-room sketch.  As a rule, my audiences of that class are capital.  I always love a well-dressed audience, it is so cheerful.  You mayn’t perhaps get as much applause as you do from the sixpenny gallery, but then applause often spoils your point.  Once, however, I remember singing at a private house in the country to an odd assortment of people.  I was informed that the party followed a wedding which had taken place in the morning.  If it had followed a funeral it could not have been more gloomy and depressed than it was.  I played the piano and the fool for three-quarters of an hour, and anything more dismal than the result it would be impossible to conceive.  A temptation seized me suddenly, and I said:  ’Ladies and gentlemen,—­I am going to reveal to you a secret.  Pray don’t let it go any further.  This is supposed to be a comic entertainment.  I don’t expect you to laugh at it in the least; but if, during the next sketch, you would only once oblige me with a society smile, it would give me a great deal of encouragement.’  The audience for a moment were dumbfounded.  They first began to titter, then to laugh, and actually to roar, and for a time I could not proceed with the sketch.  They were transformed into a capital and enthusiastic audience, and the hostess told me that both her guests and herself were most grateful to me.  I am sometimes amused with the little eccentricities of people who wish to secure my services for their parties.  A gentleman once wrote to me to entertain some friends of his, and, added he, ’I trust that your sketches are strictly comme il faut, as I have several young daughters.’  I was so immensely tickled by this that, rightly or wrongly, I replied that my entertainments were as they should be, for I was recently married, and hoped myself to have several young daughters.  He wrote thanking me for this assurance, and I was to consider myself accordingly engaged.  There is a story I tell in my book which will bear repetition:  A young gentleman