" Amongst the members of the
"Grill-room Club" was an elderly bachelor, whom I will call Mr.
Smith. "Mr. Smith," who has now been dead for some years, was wholly
undistinguished in every way. He ate largely, and spoke little, but
Tree had discovered that under his placid exterior he concealed a vein
of limitless vanity. One evening "Mr. Smith" startled the club by
breaking his habitual silence, and bursting into poetry. Apropos of
nothing at all, he suddenly declaimed two lines of doggerel, which, as
far as my memory goes, ran as follows:
"I and my doggie are now left alone,
Johnstone, to-morrow, will give him a bone."
He then relapsed into his ordinary placid silence, and soon after went
home. Beerbohm Tree made at once a bet of 5 pounds with another member
that he would induce old Mr. Smith to repeat this rubbish lying at full
length under the dining-table, seated in the firegrate (it was
summer-time), and hidden behind the window-curtains. The story got
about until every one knew of the bet except Mr. Smith, so next night
the club was crowded. The unsuspecting Smith sat silently and placidly
ruminating, when Tree appeared after his performance at His Majesty's
and lost no time in approaching his subject.
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