EVENINGS FROM HOME.
The next place of Amusement to which Mr. Barlow took his two young pupils was the Strand Theatre. Here they saw Arion, or the Story of a Lyre, and were highly diverted with the two Showmen, played by Messrs. Paulton and Terry, whose duet of "Walk Up and See my Show," they so vehemently applauded as to draw forth a reproof from their worthy preceptor, who, however, on observing that these comedians seemed to be possessed of an inexhaustible stock of fresh verses applicable to the circumstances of the times, was induced to join Tommy and Harry in the commendations which were most liberally bestowed by the audience upon this portion of the performance. On returning to their lodgings both Tommy and Harry, neither of whom had up to this time ever evinced any musical capacity, attempted to recall the pleasing airs they had heard at the Strand Theatre, and only ceased from their praiseworthy endeavours on receiving Mr. Barlow's promise that he would take them again to witness the same piece, if Tommy (whose father, being a very wealthy man, had recently bestowed upon his son a handsome Christmas gratuity) would pay for three stalls, or at least three places, in the Dress Circle.
On the following night they went to the Princess's, to see Mr. Watts Phillips's play of On the Jury, followed by a Pantomime called Little Dicky Dilver.
At the entrance to the Stalls a civil person relieved them of their overcoats and hats; and Tommy, upon whom his tutor's example, on the occasion of their visit to Drury Lane, had not been lost, expressed his gratitude to the honest stranger in the most affectionate manner.
Tommy now discovered a further opportunity of making himself acquainted with the science of Astronomy, which he had already set himself diligently to learn.
Mr. Barlow. At this theatre you will behold a constellation of talent.
Tommy. But pray, Sir, what is a "constellation"?
"Persons," answered Mr. Barlow, "have observed certain stars remarkable either for their brightness or position, or both. These stars, joined together, are termed 'constellations.' Here you have three Stars—Mr. Webster, Mr. Phelps, and Miss Furtado."
Tommy. Then these are, as you say, Sir, "remarkable for their brightness or position."
Mr. Barlow. Yes. And in time, no doubt, I shall be able to make you acquainted with the names and the appearance of all the Stars in London.
Tommy. Sir, I am much obliged to you, indeed. But of what use is it to know the Stars?
Mr. Barlow. There are some, and those very important, uses to be derived from an acquaintance with the Stars. Harry, do you tell Master Merton the story of The Free Admission and the Grateful Turk.
Harry was commencing the story when the curtain, being drawn up, disclosed to them the First Scene of On the Jury.
Mr. Barlow. This would indeed be a very good piece, but for faulty construction. Yet, for epigrammatic dialogue and dramatic situations, it has not, at this present moment, its equal in town. You have been silent, Tommy, for some time.
Tommy. Indeed, Sir, I never was more surprised or diverted; and as for one of your Stars, Miss Furtado,—Dear Heart! I protest I could watch her every evening with the greatest delight.
Mr. Barlow, observing his pupil's excitement, laughed at Tommy in his usual good-natured manner, and pointed out to him the example of the poor Greenlanders as worthy of his imitation.
"What is that, Sir?" inquired Tommy.
"They are brought up to so much moderation and self-command," said Mr. Barlow, "that they never give way to the sudden impulses of passion so common among Europeans. And see, you have split your new white kid gloves in applauding this young lady." Then turning to Harry, he asked him if he had not been touched by the acting of Mr. Webster in this piece.
Harry. Indeed, Sir, I pitied him from my heart. Mr. Tibbetts was a hardly-used gentleman. And I think that no one could have played more admirably than the gentleman who took the part of Dexter Sanderson, Esq.
Mr. Barlow. You mean Mr. Phelps, and you are right. It is indeed a fine piece of acting. There is so much breadth, and yet such a thorough finish, in this performance, that it would be worth the while of many of our younger actors (who flatter themselves on their consummate art, in consequence of having been unduly praised for their few achievements) to come here and take a lesson from Mr. Phelps.
Mr. Barlow added that it was a pity so excellent a piece should be wellnigh spoiled by the introduction of a vulgar Sensation Scene, and its construction marred by the awkward contrivance in the last Act. He further complained that it should be thought necessary to commence it at seven, and to supplement such an attraction, as this ought to be, with a Pantomime.
Tommy and Harry were not, however, of his mind upon this point, and insisted upon stopping to see the Clown. They were somewhat disappointed with the Pantomime, but professed themselves prodigiously delighted with Mr. Lloyd's scenery.
On coming out, an obliging official handed to them their overcoats, wrappers, and hats. Tommy's little heart was much affected by this kindly attention; so, pulling out his purse, he poured its contents (four bright new farthings and three peppermint lozenges) into the honest fellow's hand, saying, "Here, my good man, take this, and Heaven bless you!" It is impossible to express the surprise of the poor man at the sight. He stared wildly round him, and would have fallen but for the tender support of his assistant, who imagined that his companion had lost his senses. But the man cried out, "O, William, I am not mad! See what Providence has sent us by the hands of this little angel!" Saying this, he held up the money and the lozenges. But Tommy went up to them both, and said, "My good friends, you are very welcome to this: I freely give it to you. Spend the money soberly; and, for the lozenges, give them to your children, if you have any, or suck them yourselves in your leisure moments." Before the entranced officials, who were totally unaccustomed to receive such benefactions, could dry their tears, Tommy was out of sight, having followed Mr. Barlow and Harry to the door.
Mr. Barlow now took Master Tommy and Harry to Evans's Supper Rooms, to enter which place they had to pay a shilling apiece. This troubled their worthy preceptor, who, indeed, was painfully struck, as he informed his young friends, by the altered aspect of the interior. Mr. Barlow explained to them that in his time the room was snug, cosy, and comfortable, and only one quarter of its present size. That then there were neither carpet nor tavern-like mirrors. "True," said Mr. Barlow, "that all that was objectionable in the entertainment of former days has long ere this disappeared, and now I see there is a gallery where the "opposite sex," in very private boxes, can, like fairy sprites, sit invisible, and listen to mortal melody. In the old time," continued Mr. Barlow, "you were welcomed by the Proprietor as a personal friend, who would call John to get the hot chop or kidneys for you at once, and give the order himself, returning to see if you were comfortably served. Then the waiters flew, and to command was to have. Now, Tommy, observe I have spoken to these waiters, and have ordered my supper more than twenty minutes since, and it has not appeared. See Mr. Green himself" (the veteran here came up, and having affectionately greeted his dear boys, Masters Sandford and Merton, wandered away to another part of the room), "he is no longer Proprietor; he is only nominally in authority, his occupation is, in effect, gone; he is the only connecting link between the past and present Evans's, 'retained,' to quote his own immortal line about the lamented Von Joel, 'on the establishment, in consequence of his long services.'"
So affected were both Harry and Tommy by Mr. Barlow's discourse that they begged to be allowed to quit a place which only aroused so much sadness in the breast of their beloved preceptor. As they were leaving, Mr. Barlow paid a shilling for some refreshment which he had taken, whereupon the waiter begged to be remembered, which Mr. Barlow, being blessed with a good memory, willingly consented to do. But the waiter candidly explaining that he was expecting a trifle for his trouble, Mr. Barlow could not refrain from expostulating with the honest fellow on the absurdity of such a system, and informed the boys, that, in the old and palmy days of Evans's there was no charge for admission, and the attention bestowed on visitors being admirable, it was a pleasure to bestow some gratuity upon the attendants, which was always received by the money collector at the door with a grateful "I thank you, Sir. Good night, Sir."
While Mr. Barlow was thus addressing Masters Harry and Tommy, the waiter was summoned to a distant quarter of the room, whereupon they ascended the steps, and found themselves in the Piazza of Covent Garden.
"Farewell, Evans's!" said Mr. Barlow, sadly; "I know not that I shall darken thy doors again!"
"What you were saying, Sir," observed Harry on their reaching their lodgings, "reminds me of the story of Tigranes and the Amphibious Black."
Mr. Barlow. I do not think Tommy Merton has heard it.
Harry. Well, you must know, Master Tommy——
But Tommy had gone straight up-stairs to bed.
Mr. Barlow, who knew the story by heart, having, indeed, himself told it to Master Harry, then took his candle, and wishing Harry a very good night, retired.