play
and the actors with the exception of the man who played Whamond
(himself) whom he said he thought showed great promise. Maude
pretended not to know who he was and it fooled everybody. Mrs. Barrie
played the gipsy and danced most of the time, which she said was her
conception of the part as it was in the book. Her husband explained
that this was a play, not a book, but she did not care and danced on
and off. She played my daughter, and I had a great scene in which I
cursed her, which got rounds of applause. Lady Lewis's daughters in
beautiful Paquin dresses played Scotch lassies, and giggled in all the
sad parts, and one actress who had made a great success as one of the
"Two Vagabonds" made everybody weep by really trying to act. At one
time there were five men on the stage all talking Scotch dialect and
imitating Irving at the same time. It was a truly remarkable
performance. Ethel Barrymore goes back on Saturday with Drew to play a
French maid in "A Marriage of Convenience." She is announced to be
engaged to Hope, I see by the papers. They are not engaged, of course,
but the papers love to make matches. Look for me as sailing either on
the 31st on the St. Louis or a week later. With lots and lots of love.

DICK.

In the late summer Richard returned to Marion and from there went to
New York. However, at this time, the lure of England was very strong
with my brother, and early December found him back in London.

LONDON, December 29th, 1897.

DEAR MOTHER:--

I had a most exciting Christmas, most of which I spent in Whitechapel
in the London Hospital. I lunched with the Spenders and then went down
with them carrying large packages for distribution to the sick. I
expected to be terribly bored, but thought I would feel so virtuous
that I would the better enjoy my dinner which I had promised to take
with the McCarthys-- On the contrary, I had the most amusing time and
much more fun than I had later. The patients seemed only to be playing
sick, and some of them were very humorous and others very pathetic and
I played tin soldiers with some, and distributed rich gifts, other
people had paid for, with a lavish hand. I also sat on a little girl's
cot and played dolls for an hour. She had something wrong with her
spine and I wept most of the time, chiefly because she smiled all the
time. She went asleep holding on to my middle finger like the baby in
"The Luck of Roaring Camp." There were eight