Our　own　personal　theory；　based　upon　a　careful　comparison　of
  similarities；　is　that　the　good　old　man　is　in　reality　the　stage　hero
  grown　old。　　There　is　something　about　the　good　old　man's　chuckle…headed
  simplicity；　about　his　helpless　imbecility；　and　his　irritating　damtom
  foolishness　that　is　strangely　suggestive　of　the　hero。
  He　is　just　the　sort　of　old　man　that　we　should　imagine　the　hero　would
  develop　into。
  We　may；　of　course；　be　wrong；　but　that　is　our　idea。
  THE　IRISHMAN。
  He　says　〃Shure〃　and　〃Bedad〃　and　in　moments　of　exultation　〃Beghorra。〃
  That　is　all　the　Irish　he　knows。
  He　is　very　poor；　but　scrupulously　honest。　　His　great　ambition　is　to
  pay　his　rent；　and　he　is　devoted　to　his　landlord。
  He　is　always　cheerful　and　always　good。　　We　never　knew　a　bad　Irishman
  on　the　stage。　　Sometimes　a　stage　Irishman　seems　to　be　a　bad　mansuch
  as　the　〃agent〃　or　the　〃informer〃but　in　these　cases　it　invariably
  turns　out　in　the　end　that　this　man　was　all　along　a　Scotchman；　and　thus
  what　had　been　a　mystery　becomes　clear　and　explicable。
  The　stage　Irishman　is　always　doing　the　most　wonderful　things
  imaginable。　　We　do　not　see　him　do　those　wonderful　things。　　He　does
  them　when　nobody　is　by　and　tells　us　all　about　them　afterward：　　that　is
  how　we　know　of　them。
  We　remember　on　one　occasion；　when　we　were　young　and　somewhat
  inexperienced；　planking　our　money　down　and　going　into　a　theater　solely
  and　purposely　to　see　the　stage　Irishman　do　the　things　he　was　depicted
  as　doing　on　the　posters　outside。
  They　were　really　marvelous；　the　things　he　did　on　that　poster。
  In　the　right…hand　upper　corner　he　appeared　running　across　country　on
  all　fours；　with　a　red　herring　sticking　out　from　his　coat…tails；　while
  far　behind　came　hounds　and　horsemen　hunting　him。　　But　their　chance　of
  ever　catching　him　up　was　clearly　hopeless。
  To　the　left　he　was　represented　as　running　away　over　one　of　the　wildest
  and　most　rugged　bits　of　landscape　we　have　ever　seen　with　a　very　big
  man　on　his　back。　　Six　policemen　stood　scattered　about　a　mile　behind
  him。　　They　had　evidently　been　running　after　him；　but　had　at　last　given
  up　the　pursuit　as　useless。
  In　the　center　of　the　poster　he　was　having　a　friendly　fight　with
  seventeen　ladies　and　gentlemen。　　Judging　from　the　costumes；　the　affair
  appeared　to　be　a　wedding。　　A　few　of　the　guests　had　already　been　killed
  and　lay　dead　about　the　floor。　　The　survivors；　however；　were　enjoying
  themselves　immensely；　and　of　all　that　gay　group　he　was　the　gayest。
  At　the　moment　chosen　by　the　artist；　he　had　just　succeeded　in　cracking
  the　bridegroom's　skull。
  〃We　must　see　this；〃　said　we　to　ourselves。　　〃This　is　good。〃　　And　we　had
  a　bob's　worth。
  But　he　did　not　do　any　of　the　things　that　we　have　mentioned；　after
  allat　least；　we　mean　we　did　not　see　him　do　any　of　them。　　It　seems　he
  did　them　〃off；〃　and　then　came　on　and　told　his　mother　all　about　it
  afterward。
  He　told　it　very　well；　but　somehow　or　other　we　were　disappointed。　　We
  had　so　reckoned　on　that　fight。
  By　the　bye；　we　have　noticed；　even　among　the　characters　of　real　life；　a
  tendency　to　perform　most　of　their　wonderful　feats　〃off。〃
  It　has　been　our　privilege　since　then　to　gaze　upon　many　posters　on
  which　have　been　delineated　strange　and　moving　stage　events。
  We　have　seen　the　hero　holding　the　villain　up　high　above　his　head；　and
  throwing　him　about　that　carelessly　that　we　have　felt　afraid　he　would
  break　something　with　him。
  We　have　seen　a　heroine　leaping　from　the　roof　of　a　house　on　one　side　of
  the　street　and　being　caught　by　the　comic　man　standing　on　the　roof　of　a
  house　on　the　other　side　of　the　street　and　thinking　nothing　of　it。
  We　have　seen　railway　trains　rushing　into　each　other　at　the　rate　of
  sixty　miles　an　hour。　　We　have　seen　houses　blown　up　by　dynamite　two
  hundred　feet　into　the　air。　　We　have　seen　the　defeat　of　the　Spanish
  Armada；　the　destruction　of　Pompeii；　and　the　return　of　the　British　army
  from　Egypt　in　one　〃set〃　each。
  Such　incidents　as　earthquakes；　wrecks　in　mid…ocean；　revolutions　and
  battles　we　take　no　note　of；　they　being　commonplace　and　ordinary。
  But　we　do　not　go　inside　to　see　these　things　now。　　We　have　two　looks　at
  the　poster　instead；　it　is　more　satisfying。
  The　Irishman；　to　return　to　our　friend；　is　very　fond　of　whiskythe
  stage　Irishman；　we　mean。　　Whisky　is　forever　in　his　thoughtsand　often
  in　other　places　belonging　to　him；　besides。
  The　fashion　in　dress　among　stage　Irishmen　is　rather　picturesque　than
  neat。　　Tailors　must　have　a　hard　time　of　it　in　stage　Ireland。
  The　stage　Irishman　has　also　an　original　taste　in　hats。　　He　always
  wears　a　hat　without　a　crown；　whether　to　keep　his　head　cool　or　with　any
  political　significance　we　cannot　say。
  THE　DETECTIVE。
  Ah！　he　is　a　cute　one；　he　is。　　Possibly　in　real　life　he　would　not　be
  deemed　anything　extraordinary；　but　by　contrast　with　the　average　of
  stage　men　and　women；　any　one　who　is　not　a　born　fool　naturally　appears
  somewhat　Machiavellian。
  He　is　the　only　man　in　the　play　who　does　not　swallow　all　the　villain
  tells　him　and　believe　it；　and　come　up　with　his　mouth　open　for　more。
  He　is　the　only　man　who　can　see　through　the　disguise　of　an　overcoat　and
  a　new　hat。
  There　is　something　very　wonderful　about　the　disguising　power　of　cloaks
  and　hats　upon　the　stage。　　This　comes　from　the　habit　people　on　the
  stage　have　of　recognizing　their　friends；　not　by　their　faces　and
  voices；　but　by　their　cloaks　and　hats。
  A　married　man　on　the　stage　knows　his　wife；　because　he　knows　she　wears
  a　blue　ulster　and　a　red　bonnet。　　The　moment　she　leaves　off　that　blue
  ulster　and　red　bonnet　he　is　lost　and　does　not　know　where　she　is。
  She　puts　on　a　yellow　cloak　and　a　green　hat；　and　coming　in　at　another
  door　says　she　is　a　lady　from　the　country；　and　does　he　want　a
  housekeeper？
  Having　lost　his　beloved　wife；　and　feeling　that　there　is　no　one　now　to
  keep　the　children　quiet；　he　engages　her。　　She　puzzles　him　a　good　deal；
  this　new　housekeeper。　　There　is　something　about　her　that　strangely
  reminds　him　of　his　darling　Nellmaybe　her　boots　and　dress；　which　she
  has　not　had　time　to　change。
  Sadly　the　slow　acts　pass　away　until　one　day；　as　it　is　getting　near
  closing…time；　she　puts　on　the　blue　ulster　and　the　red　bonnet　again　and
  comes　in　at　the　old　original　door。
  Then　he　recognizes　her　and　asks　her　where　she　has　been　all　these　cruel
  years。
  Even　the　bad　people；　who　as　a　rule　do　possess　a　little　senseindeed；
  they　are　the　only　persons　in　the　play　who　ever　pretend　to　anyare
  deceived　by　singularly　thin　disguises。
  The　detective　comes　in　to　their　secret　councils；　with　his　hat　drawn
  down　over　his　eyes；　and　followed　by　the　hero　speaking　in　a　squeaky
  voice；　and　the　villains　mistake　them　for　members　of　the　band　and　tell
  them　all　their　plans。
  If　the　villains　can't　get　themselves　found　out　that　way；　then　they　go
  into　a　public　tea…garden　and　recount　their　crimes　to　one　another　in　a
  loud　tone　of　voice。
  They　evidently　think　that　it　is　only　fair　to　give　the　detective　a
  chance。
  The　detective　must　not　be　confounded　with　the　policeman。　　The　stage
  policeman　is　always　on　the　side　of　the　villain；　the　detective　backs
  virtue。
  The　stage　detective　is；　in　fact；　the　earthly　agent　of　a　discerning　and
  benevolent　Providence。　　He　stands　by　and　allows　vice　to　be　triumphant
  and　the　good　people　to　be　persecuted　for　awhile　without　interference。
  Then　when　he　considers　that　we　have　all　had　about　enough　of　it　（to
  which　conclusion；　by　the　bye；　he　arrives　somewhat　late）　he　comes
  forward；　handcuffs　the　bad　people；　sorts　out　and　gives　back　to　the
  good　people　all　their　various　estates　and　wives；　promises　the　chief
  villain　twenty　years'　penal　servitude；　and　all　is　joy。
  THE　SAILOR。
  He　does　suffer　so　with　his　trousers。　　He　has　to　stop　and　pull　them　up
  about　twice　every　minute。
  One　of　these　days；　if　he　is　not　careful；　there　will　be　an　accident
  happen　to　those　trousers。
  If　the　stage　sailor　will　follow　our　advice；　he　will　be　warned　in　time
  and　will　get　a　pair　of　braces。
  Sailors　in　real　life　do　not　have　nearly　so　much　trouble　with　their
  trousers　as　sailors　on　the　stage　do。　　Why　is　this？　　We　have　seen　a
  good　deal　of　sailors　in　real　life；　but　on　only　one　occasion；　that　we
  can　remember；　did　we　ever　see　a　real　sailor　pull　his　trousers　up。
  And　then　he　did　not　do　it　a　bit　like　they　do　it　on　the　stage。
  The　stage　sailor　places　his　right　hand　behind　him　and　his　left　in
  front；　leaps　up　into　the　air；　kicks　out　his　leg　behind　in　a　gay　and
  bird…like　way；　and　the　thing　is　done。
  The　real　sailor　that　we　saw　began　by　saying　a　bad　word。　　Then　he
  leaned　up　against　a　brick　wall　and　undid　his　belt；　pulled　up　his
  〃bags〃　as　he　stood　there　（he　never　attempted　to　leap　up　into　the　air）；
  tucked　in　his　jersey；　shook　his　legs；　and　walked　on。
  It　was　a　most　unpicturesque　performance　to　watch。
  The　thing　that　the　stage　sailor　most　craves　in　this　life　is　that
  somebody　should　shiver　his　timbers。
  〃Shiver　my　timbers！〃　is　the　request　he　makes　to　every　one　he　meets。
  But　nobody　ever　does　it。
  His　chief　desire　with　regard　to　the　other　people　in　the　play　is　that
  they　should　〃belay　there；　avast！〃　　We　do　not　know　how　this　is　done；
  but　the　stage　sailor　is　a　good　and　kindly　man；　and　we　feel　convinced
  he　would　not　recommend　the　exercise