spent much more than he made during his ten years of
management. Indeed, he confessed as much in a public announcement. The
Princess's Theater was not very big, and the seats were low-priced. It
is my opinion, however, that no manager with high artistic aims,
resolute to carry them out in his own way, can ever make a fortune.

Of the other members of the company during my three years at the
Princess's, I remember best Walter Lacy, who was the William Terriss of
the time. He knew Madame Vestris, and had many entertaining stories
about her. Then there were the Leclercqs, two clever sisters, Carlotta
and Rose, who did great things later on. Men, women and children alike
worked hard, and if the language of the actors was more Rabelaisian than
polite, they were good fellows and heart and soul devoted to their
profession. Their salaries were smaller and their lives were simpler
than is the case with actors now.

Kate and I had been hard at work for some years, but our parents had no
notion of our resting. We were now to show what our training had done
for us in "A Drawing-room Entertainment."

II

ON THE ROAD

1859-1861

From July to September every year the leading theaters in London and the
provincial cities were closed for the summer vacation. This plan is
still adhered to more or less, but in London, at any rate, some theaters
keep their doors open all the year round. During these two months most
actors take their holiday, but when we were with the Keans we were not
in a position to afford such a luxury. Kate and I were earning good
salaries for our age,[1] but the family at home was increasing in size,
and my mother was careful not to let us think that there never could be
any rainy days. I am bound to say that I left questions of thrift, and
what we could afford and what we couldn't entirely to my parents. I
received sixpence a week pocket-money, with which I was more than
content for many years. Poor we may have been at this time, but, owing
to my mother's diligent care and cleverness, we always looked nice and
neat. One of the few early dissipations I can remember was a Christmas
party in Half Moon Street, where our white muslin dresses were equal to
any present. But more love and toil and pride than money had gone to
make them. I have a very clear vision of coming home late from the
theater to our home in Stanhope Street, Regent's Park, and seeing my
dear mother stitching at those pretty frocks by the