They said I had a future before me. Up to that time I had an idea it was behind me.
Time passed on. It always does, by the way. You may possibly have noticed that Time passes on.——It is a kind of a way Time has.
I became a man. I haven’t distinguished myself at all as an artist—but I have always been more or less mixed up with art. I have an uncle who takes photographs—and I have a servant who——takes anything he can get his hands on.
When I was in Rome——Rome in New York State, I mean——a distinguished sculptist wanted to sculp me. But I said “No.” I saw through the designing man. My model once in his hands—he would have flooded the market with my busts——and I couldn’t stand it to see everybody going round with a bust of me. Everybody would want one of course—and wherever I should go I should meet the educated classes with my bust, taking it home to their families. This would be more than my modesty could stand——and I should have to return to America——where my creditors are.
I like art. I admire dramatic art—although I failed as an actor.
It was in my school days that I failed as an actor.——The play was the “Ruins of Pompeii.”——I played the Ruins. It was not a very successful performance—but it was better than the “Burning Mountain.” He was not good. He was a bad Vesuvius.
The remembrance often makes me ask—“where are the boys of my youth?”——I assure you this is not a conundrum.——Some are amongst you here——Some in America——some are in jail.——
Hence arises a most touching question—“Where are the girls of my youth?” Some are married——some would like to be.
Oh my Maria! Alas! She married another. They frequently do. I hope she is happy—because I am.——Some people are not happy. I have noticed that.
A gentleman friend of mine came to me one day with tears in his eyes. I said “Why these weeps?” He said he had a mortgage on his farm—and wanted to borrow £200. I lent him the money—and he went away. Sometime after he returned with more tears. He said he must leave me forever. I ventured to remind him of the £200 he had borrowed. He was much cut up. I thought I would not be hard upon him—so I told him I would throw off one hundred pounds. He brightened—shook my hand—and said—“Old friend—I won’t allow you to outdo me in liberality—I’ll throw off the other hundred.”