MISS ELLEN TERRY
FROM A SNAP-SHOT TAKEN IN THE UNITED STATES
"How wonderfully different are the expressions on terriers' faces," I said to her, looking at a painting of hers of a fox-terrier pup. "That's the only sort of dog I should like to have."
"That one belonged to Fred Archer," Rosa Corder said. "I daresay he could get you one like it."
We went out to find Archer. Curiously enough, I had known the famous jockey at Harpenden, when he was a little boy, and I believe used to come round with vegetables.
"I'll send you a dog, Miss Terry, that won't be any trouble. He's got a very good head, a first-rate tail, stuck in splendidly, but his legs are too long. He'd follow you if you went to America."
Prophetic words! On one of our departures for America, Fussie was left behind by mistake at Southampton. He found his way back from there to his own theatre in the Strand, London.
Fred Archer sent him originally to the stage door at the Lyceum. The man who brought him out to my house in Earl's Court said:
"I'm afraid he gives tongue. Miss, he don't like music anyway. There was a band at the bottom of your road, and he started hollering."