fish. Louis Freear, a housemaid, and all the leading men
appeared as policemen. No one had more than a line to speak which just
gave the audience time to recognize him or her. The composers and
orchestra leaders came on as a German band, each playing an instrument,
and they got half through the Washington Post before the policemen beat
them off. Then Marie Lloyd and all the Music Hall stars appeared as
street girls and danced to the music of a hand-organ. Hayden Coffin,
Plunkett Greene and Ben Davies sang as street musicians and the clown
beat them with stuffed bricks. After that there was a revue of all the
burlesques and comic operas, then the curtain was raised from the
middle of the stage, and Nellie Farren was discovered seated at a table
on a high stage with all the "legitimates" in frock-coats and walking
dresses rising on benches around her.

The set was a beautiful wood scene well lighted. Wyndham stood on one
side of her, and he said the yell that went up when the curtain rose
was worse than the rebel yell he had heard in battles. In front of
her, below the stage, were all the people who had taken part in the
revue, forming a most interesting picture. There was no one in the
group who had not been known for a year by posters or photographs:
Letty Lind as the Geisha, Arthur Roberts as Dandy Dan. The French Girl
and all the officers from The Geisha, the ballet girls from the
pantomime, the bareback-riders from The Circus Girl; the Empire
costumes and the monks from La Poupee, and all the Chinese and Japanese
costumes from The Geisha. Everybody on the stage cried and all the old
rounders in the boxes cried.

It was really a wonderfully dramatic spectacle to see the clown and
officers and Geisha girls weeping down their grease paint. Nellie
Farren's great song was one about a street Arab with the words: "Let
me hold your, nag, sir, carry your little bag, sir, anything you please
to give--thank'ee, sir!" She used to close her hand, then open it and
look at the palm, then touch her cap with a very wonderful smile, and
laugh when she said, "Thank'ee, sir!" This song was reproduced for
weeks before the benefit, and played all over London, and when the
curtain rose on her, the orchestra struck into it and the people
shouted as though it was the national anthem. Wyndham made a very good
address and so did Terry, then Wyndham said he would try to get her to
speak. She has lost the use of her hands and l