humorous　opprobrium；　and　the　villagers　will　get　a　day　off　and　hang
  about　the　village　pub　and　hoot　me。　　Everybody　will　see　through　my
  villainy；　and　I　shall　be　nabbed　in　the　end。　　I　always　am。　　But　it　is
  no　matter；　I　will　be　a　villainha！　ha！〃
  On　the　whole；　the　stage　villain　appears　to　us　to　be　a　rather　badly
  used　individual。　　He　never　has　any　〃estates〃　or　property　himself；　and
  his　only　chance　of　getting　on　in　the　world　is　to　sneak　the　hero's。　　He
  has　an　affectionate　disposition；　and　never　having　any　wife　of　his　own
  he　is　compelled　to　love　other　people's；　but　his　affection　is　ever
  unrequited；　and　everything　comes　wrong　for　him　in　the　end。
  Our　advice　to　stage　villains　generally；　after　careful　observation　of
  （stage）　life　and　（stage）　human　nature；　is　as　follows：
  Never　be　a　stage　villain　at　all　if　you　can　help　it。　　The　life　is　too
  harassing　and　the　remuneration　altogether　disproportionate　to　the
  risks　and　labor。
  If　you　have　run　away　with　the　clergyman's　daughter　and　she　still
  clings　to　you；　do　not　throw　her　down　in　the　center　of　the　stage　and
  call　her　names。　　It　only　irritates　her；　and　she　takes　a　dislike　to　you
  and　goes　and　warns　the　other　girl。
  Don't　have　too　many　accomplices；　and　if　you　have　got　them；　don't　keep
  sneering　at　them　and　bullying　them。　　A　word　from　them　can　hang　you；
  and　yet　you　do　all　you　can　to　rile　them。　　Treat　them　civilly　and　let
  them　have　their　fair　share　of　the　swag。
  Beware　of　the　comic　man。　　When　you　are　committing　a　murder　or　robbing
  a　safe　you　never　look　to　see　where　the　comic　man　is。　　You　are　so
  careless　in　that　way。　　On　the　whole；　it　might　be　as　well　if　you
  murdered　the　comic　man　early　in　the　play。
  Don't　make　love　to　the　hero's　wife。　　She　doesn't　like　you；　how　can　you
  expect　her　to？　　Besides；　it　isn't　proper。　　Why　don't　you　get　a　girl　of
  your　own？
  Lastly；　don't　go　down　to　the　scenes　of　your　crimes　in　the　last　act。
  You　always　will　do　this。　　We　suppose　it　is　some　extra　cheap　excursion
  down　there　that　attracts　you。　　But　take　our　advice　and　don't　go。　　That
  is　always　where　you　get　nabbed。　　The　police　know　your　habits　from
  experience。　　They　do　not　trouble　to　look　for　you。　　They　go　down　in　the
  last　act　to　the　old　hall　or　the　ruined　mill　where　you　did　the　deed　and
  wait　for　you。
  In　nine　cases　out　of　ten　you　would　get　off　scot…free　but　for　this
  idiotic　custom　of　yours。　　Do　keep　away　from　the　place。　　Go　abroad　or
  to　the　sea…side　when　the　last　act　begins　and　stop　there　till　it　is
  over。　　You　will　be　safe　then。
  THE　HEROINE。
  She　is　always　in　troubleand　don't　she　let　you　know　it；　too！　　Her
  life　is　undeniably　a　hard　one。　　Nothing　goes　right　with　her。　　We　all
  have　our　troubles；　but　the　stage　heroine　never　has　anything　else。　　If
  she　only　got　one　afternoon　a　week　off　from　trouble　or　had　her　Sundays
  free　it　would　be　something。
  But　no；　misfortune　stalks　beside　her　from　week's　beginning　to　week's
  end。
  After　her　husband　has　been　found　guilty　of　murder；　which　is　about　the
  least　thing　that　can　ever　happen　to　him；　and　her　white…haired　father
  has　become　a　bankrupt　and　has　died　of　a　broken　heart；　and　the　home　of
  her　childhood　has　been　sold　up；　then　her　infant　goes　and　contracts　a
  lingering　fever。
  She　weeps　a　good　deal　during　the　course　of　her　troubles；　which　we
  suppose　is　only　natural　enough；　poor　woman。　　But　it　is　depressing　from
  the　point　of　view　of　the　audience；　and　we　almost　wish　before　the
  evening　is　out　that　she　had　not　got　quite　so　much　trouble。
  It　is　over　the　child　that　she　does　most　of　her　weeping。　　The　child　has
  a　damp　time　of　it　altogether。　　We　sometimes　wonder　that　it　never
  catches　rheumatism。
  She　is　very　good；　is　the　stage　heroine。　　The　comic　man　expresses　a
  belief　that　she　is　a　born　angel。　　She　reproves　him　for　this　with　a
  tearful　smile　（it　wouldn't　be　her　smile　if　it　wasn't　tearful）。
  〃Oh；　no；〃　she　says　（sadly　of　course）；　〃I　have　many；　many　faults。〃
  We　rather　wish　that　she　would　show　them　a　little　more。　　Her　excessive
  goodness　seems　somehow　to　pall　upon　us。　　Our　only　consolation　while
  watching　her　is　that　there　are　not　many　good　women　off　the　stage。
  Life　is　bad　enough　as　it　is；　if　there　were　many　women　in　real　life　as
  good　as　the　stage　heroine；　it　would　be　unbearable。
  The　stage　heroine's　only　pleasure　in　life　is　to　go　out　in　a　snow…storm
  without　an　umbrella　and　with　no　bonnet　on。　　She　has　a　bonnet；　we　know
  （rather　a　tasteful　little　thing）；　we　have　seen　it　hanging　up　behind
  the　door　of　her　room；　but　when　she　comes　out　for　a　night　stroll　during
  a　heavy　snow…storm　（accompanied　by　thunder）；　she　is　most　careful　to
  leave　it　at　home。　　Maybe　she　fears　the　snow　will　spoil　it；　and　she　is
  a　careful　girl。
  She　always　brings　her　child　out　with　her　on　these　occasions。　　She
  seems　to　think　that　it　will　freshen　it　up。　　The　child　does　not
  appreciate　the　snow　as　much　as　she　does。　　He　says　it's　cold。
  One　thing　that　must　irritate　the　stage　heroine　very　much　on　these
  occasions　is　the　way　in　which　the　snow　seems　to　lie　in　wait　for　her
  and　follow　her　about。　　It　is　quite　a　fine　night　before　she　comes　on
  the　scene：　　the　moment　she　appears　it　begins　to　snow。　　It　snows
  heavily　all　the　while　she　remains　about；　and　the　instant　she　goes　it
  clears　up　again　and　keeps　dry　for　the　rest　of　the　evening。
  The　way　the　snow　〃goes〃　for　that　poor　woman　is　most　unfair。　　It　always
  snows　much　heavier　in　the　particular　spot　where　she　is　sitting　than　it
  does　anywhere　else　in　the　whole　street。　　Why；　we　have　sometimes　seen　a
  heroine　sitting　in　the　midst　of　a　blinding　snow…storm　while　the　other
  side　of　the　road　was　as　dry　as　a　bone。　　And　it　never　seemed　to　occur
  to　her　to　cross　over。
  We　have　even　known　a　more　than　unusually　malignant　snow…storm　to
  follow　a　heroine　three　times　round　the　stage　and　then　go　off　（R。）　with
  her。
  Of　course　you　can't　get　away　from　a　snow…storm　like　that！　　A　stage
  snow…storm　is　the　kind　of　snow…storm　that　would　follow　you　upstairs
  and　want　to　come　into　bed　with　you。
  Another　curious　thing　about　these　stage　snow…storms　is　that　the　moon
  is　always　shining　brightly　through　the　whole　of　them。　　And　it　shines
  only　on　the　heroine；　and　it　follows　her　about　just　like　the　snow　does。
  Nobody　fully　understands　what　a　wonderful　work　of　nature　the　moon　is
  except　people　acquainted　with　the　stage。　　Astronomy　teaches　you
  something　about　the　moon；　but　you　learn　a　good　deal　more　from　a　few
  visits　to　a　theater。　　You　will　find　from　the　latter　that　the　moon　only
  shines　on　heroes　and　heroines；　with　perhaps　an　occasional　beam　on　the
  comic　man：　　it　always　goes　out　when　it　sees　the　villain　coming。
  It　is　surprising；　too；　how　quickly　the　moon　can　go　out　on　the　stage。
  At　one　moment　it　is　riding　in　full　radiance　in　the　midst　of　a
  cloudless　sky；　and　the　next　instant　it　is　gone！　　Just　as　though　it　had
  been　turned　off　at　a　meter。　　It　makes　you　quite　giddy　at　first　until
  you　get　used　to　it。
  The　stage　heroine　is　inclined　to　thoughtfulness　rather　than　gayety。
  In　her　cheerful　moments　the　stage　heroine　thinks　she　sees　the　spirit
  of　her　mother；　or　the　ghost　of　her　father；　or　she　dreams　of　her　dead
  baby。
  But　this　is　only　in　her　very　merry　moods。　　As　a　rule；　she　is　too　much
  occupied　with　weeping　to　have　time　for　frivolous　reflections。
  She　has　a　great　flow　of　language　and　a　wonderful　gift　of　metaphor　and
  similemore　forcible　than　elegantand　this　might　be　rather　trying　in
  a　wife　under　ordinary　circumstances。　　But　as　the　hero　is　generally
  sentenced　to　ten　years'　penal　servitude　on　his　wedding…morn；　he
  escapes　for　a　period　from　a　danger　that　might　well　appall　a　less
  fortunate　bridegroom。
  Sometimes　the　stage　heroine　has　a　brother；　and　if　so　he　is　sure　to　be
  mistaken　for　her　lover。　　We　never　came　across　a　brother　and　sister　in
  real　life　who　ever　gave　the　most　suspicious　person　any　grounds　for
  mistaking　them　for　lovers；　but　the　stage　brother　and　sister　are　so
  affectionate　that　the　error　is　excusable。
  And　when　the　mistake　does　occur　and　the　husband　comes　in　suddenly　and
  finds　them　kissing　and　raves　she　doesn't　turn　round　and　say：
  〃Why；　you　silly　cuckoo；　it's　only　my　brother。〃
  That　would　be　simple　and　sensible；　and　would　not　suit　the　stage
  heroine　at　all。　　No；　she　does　all　in　her　power　to　make　everybody
  believe　it　is　true；　so　that　she　can　suffer　in　silence。
  She　does　so　love　to　suffer。
  Marriage　is　undoubtedly　a　failure　in　the　case　of　the　stage　heroine。
  If　the　stage　heroine　were　well　advised　she　would　remain　single。　　Her
  husband　means　well。　　He　is　decidedly　affectionate。　　But　he　is
  unfortunate　and　inexperienced　in　worldly　affairs。　　Things　come　right
  for　him　at　the　end　of　the　play；　it　is　true；　but　we　would　not　recommend
  the　heroine　to　place　too　much　reliance　upon　the　continuance　of　this
  happy　state　of　affairs。　　From　what　we　have　seen　of　her　husband　and　his
  business　capabilities　during　the　five　acts　preceding；　we　are　inclined
  to　doubt　the　possibility　of　his　being　anything　but　unfortunate　to　the
  end　of　his　career。
  True；　he　has　at　last　got　his　〃rights〃　（which　he　would　never　have　lost
  had　he　had　a　head　instead　of　a　sentimental　bladder　on　his　shoulders）；
  the　Villain　is　handcuffed；　and　he　and　the　heroine　have　settled　down
  comfortably　next　door　to　the　comic　man。
  But　this　heavenly　existence　will