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1857.] passed up the aisle, reached the hail, and waited for them at the foot of the stairs. Presently they appeared. Clodman was praising the performance; Susan expressed her delight; Pendlam said something about miscellaneous magnetisms. They had reached the foot of the stairs, when Horatio sprang upon them like a brigand, and seized John Henry’s collar.

“Ha! Horatio!” gasped Pendlam, a good deal startled.

“Too late to escape!” And Horatio drew a tract upon him, like a revolver. “Here is something, sir, which I think will suit your case,” levelling it at Pendlam’s throat.

“Ha!” stammered Pendlam, reading the title. The Theatre a Stronghold of Vice; a Sermon, by

“By the Reverend John Henry Pendlam,” roared out Horatio. “Pendlam, the distinguished temperance-preacher!”

A lurid smile played over the grim features of the Practical Organizer.

“Pendlam has outgrown his former opinions,” he said, with a look of hate at Horatio.

“Not precisely,” said Pendlam. “I have simply enlarged them, or rather added to there. I preach temperance the same; but very man must be his own master. The vices of the theatre appear just as hideous to me as ever; but the theatre itself may be redeemed, and made an instrument of salvation. As the patronage of bad people rendered it what it has been, so the patronage of the good is required to make it what it should be. The divine magnetism of a few spiritual persons in the audience must necessarily affect, not only the remainder of the audience, but also the actors. In our new Association”

“Come!” growled the Practical Organizer, turning away, with Susan leaning confidingly on his arm; “shall we go?”

“Excuse me. I will give you my ideas of a spiritual drama another time. I’ll take this sermon. I shall read with interest what I had to say on the subject before my mind had attained its present plane. Good night! You see where I am,” added Pendlam.

Thenceforward the Pendlams were frequent visitors at the theatres. When John Henry was too much occupied to attend, Clodman had the gallantry to escort Susan. This was considered exceedingly kind in Clodman; he not only treated Susan to delightful dramatic performances, but at the same time imparted to her his valuable magnetism.

One Sabbath evening Horatio came suddenly upon me in the street, and pulled me breathlessly around a corner.

“Wait till I can speak; the miracle of miracles! I have been to—to call on ; and who do you suppose had been dining with her?”

I named successively several noted actress-hunters and snobs, whose names disgusted Horatio. “Who then?” I asked.

“Pendlam! Pendlam! Pendlam!” ejaculated Horatio. “He wanted to consult upon the subject of creating a Divine Drama, or some such nonsense.”

“Possibly a new Divine Comedy,” I suggested.

“She made him stay and dine on Sunday! And will you believe it?—he finds her magnetic impartations, as he calls them, highly agreeable and advantageous to his constitution! Bless him! he isn’t the first man who has found them agreeable, if not so advantageous. But she gave him a dose!”

“Of what?”

“Of bitter truth about Clodman. She knows him for a villain, and told him so. I was there, and glad to hear it. But I was enraged. I could have wrung John Henry Pendlam’s neck for him, when he said, with his quiet, charitable, mild, incredulous smile, that he was already aware there existed in the community a good deal of prejudice against Clodman!”

Matters were now progressing rapidly to a crisis. One day during the ensuing summer, I asked Horatio the usual question, “Where is Pendlam now?”—