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1884.] ever, realized. Through the uncertainty of the announcements, there was a very bad house. The first act struck fire; the church-scene, in the second act, electrified the audience. In the third act the interest drooped; in the fourth it died out altogether, like the expiring gleam of a farthing rushlight. On Saturday the house was no better, and the verdict of the preceding night was not reversed. The play was a direful failure, and involved me in a loss of between five and six hundred pounds on the two representations, as well as depriving me of a cherished illusion, as I had hoped to distinguish myself as the hero. There was an abundance of splendid material in the work, finely-drawn characters, vigorous lines, exciting incidents; but it was put together so hastily and so crudely that it was utterly impossible for it to succeed.

I suggested an entire reconstruction of the drama, but Mr. Reade at that period would not hear of it. Finding that he remained obdurate, I had nothing further to do with the piece, which was fortunate for me, inasmuch as its production at the Adelphi, shortly afterward, involved the author in a very considerable loss.

I am happy to say that my secession from this speculation in no way interfered with our friendly relations; and indeed Mr. Reade scarcely ever produced a piece afterward about which he did not do me the honor to consult me.

The publication of "The Wandering Heir" in a Christmas number of the "Graphic" yielded Mr. Reade a large sum, and evoked a very hot controversy with the late Mr. Mortimer Collins and his wife as to an alleged charge of plagiarism from Swift in various parts of the story. There was some very hard hitting on both sides in reference to this matter. When his honesty was called in question, Reade's sensibility was deeply wounded and his indignation was unbounded; yet I have reason to know that he afterward deeply regretted some of the strong things he emitted on this occasion. His was "a most manly wit," and was pained to "hurt a woman."

It was with the money earned by the publication of the story that he rushed headlong into management, to produce a drama founded on it. As usual, the London theatres were closed against him, and, being occupied with my engagements in various parts of the country, I could no longer assist him as I used to do. He therefore took the Amphitheatre in Liverpool, where the risk and responsibility were great, and the profit little, if any.

At his request I came over to Liverpool from the Isle of Man to see the production of "The Wandering Heir." Mr. Tom Taylor and his family had been staying in Douglas for the season, and, as they were returning on the Monday, they asked us to stay and accompany them. During the voyage I more than once regretted that we did not take their advice, for when they came over the sea was like a mill-dam, while we had a most awful passage: a ship, with all hands aboard, went down before our very eyes, and we reached Liverpool more dead than alive. Nevertheless we managed to crawl to the theatre that night somehow, and, oh, how kind and hospitable Reade was! He gave up his own rooms to us, and welcomed us with all his old winning grace and ever-genial hospitality.

I pause here to remark that Mrs. John Wood's impersonation of Philippa was a delightful performance. Of course this admirable actress was, if anything, too much the woman, and a very fine woman she was, and is, for that matter; but she was a trifle too plump, too ebullient, and too knowing to realize typically the girlish Philippa. Yet what splendid art it was! what depths of tenderness lay under the superstructure of archness! what sublime assurance asserted itself at the tip of her saucy nose! what wealth of fun lay lurking in the corners of her eyes and ready "to play Bo-peep and burst out in spite of her"! It was worth being sea-sick from Douglas to Liverpool only to hear her say, "Parson,