ht a smile to the heavy, tragic features of Booth himself. But
there was nothing formal about our relations with John Sleeper Clark
and the Jefferson family. They were real "home folks" and often
occupied our spare room, and when they were with us Richard and I were
allowed to come to all the meals, and, even if unsolicited, freely
express our views on the modern drama.

In later years to our Philadelphia home came Henry Irving and his
fellow player Ellen Terry and Augustin Daly and that wonderful quartet,
Ada Rehan, Mrs. Gilbert, James Lewis, and our own John Drew. Sir Henry
I always recall by the first picture I had of him in our dining-room,
sitting far away from the table, his long legs stretched before him,
peering curiously at Richard and myself over black-rimmed glasses and
then, with equal interest, turning back to the ash of a long cigar and
talking drama with the famous jerky, nasal voice but always with a
marvellous poise and convincing authority. He took a great liking to
Richard in those days, sent him a church-warden's pipe that he had used
as Corporal Brewster, and made much of him later when my brother was in
London. Miss Terry was a much less formal and forbidding guest,
rushing into the house like a whirlwind and filling the place with the
sunshine and happiness that seemed to fairly exude from her beautiful
magnetic presence. Augustin Daly usually came with at least three of
the stars of his company which I have already mentioned, but even the
beautiful Rehan and the nice old Mrs. Gilbert seemed thoroughly awed in
the presence of "the Guv'nor." He was a most crusty, dictatorial
party, as I remember him with his searching eyes and raven locks,
always dressed in black and always failing to find virtue in any actor
or actress not a member of his own company. I remember one
particularly acrid discussion between him and my father in regard to
Julia Marlowe, who was then making her first bow to the public. Daly
contended that in a few years the lady would be absolutely unheard of
and backed his opinion by betting a dinner for those present with my
father that his judgment would prove correct. However, he was very
kind to Richard and myself and frequently allowed us to play about
behind the scenes, which was a privilege I imagine he granted to very
few of his friends' children. One night, long after this, when Richard
was a reporter in New York, he and Miss Rehan were burlesquing a scene
from a pl