Having lived with Hamlet nearly all his life, studied the part when he was a clerk, dreamed of a day when he might play it, the young Henry Irving saw that Mrs. Butler, the famous Fanny Kemble, was going to give a reading of the play. His heart throbbed high with anticipation, for in those days TRADITION was everything—the name of Kemble a beacon and a star.
The studious young clerk went to the reading.
An attendant came on to the platform, first, and made trivial and apparently unnecessary alterations in the position of the reading desk. A glass of water and a book were placed on it.
After a portentous wait, on swept a lady with an extraordinary flashing eye, a masculine and muscular outside. Pounding the book with terrific energy, as if she wished to knock the stuffing out of it, she announced in thrilling tones:
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."
"'HAM—A—LETTE.'
By
Will—y—am Shak—es—peare."