"Then I can hum a fugue, of which I've heard the music's din afore, and whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense, Pinafore." The Pirates of Penzance.
I played in comparatively few amateur theatrical performances—half a dozen, at the outside. I played John Chodd, jun., in Society, at the old Gallery of Illustration, in 1868; and, singularly enough, one of my critics was Mr. W. S. Gilbert, who, under the heading of "The Theatrical Lounger," in The Illustrated Times, said: "Mr. Grossmith has comic powers of no mean order; and his idea of John Chodd, carefully modelled on Mr. Clarke, had, nevertheless, an amusing originality of its own." The after-piece was a burlesque on No Thoroughfare, written by my father, in which I danced and sang more than I acted. This performance was repeated once.
I then essayed the part of Paul Pry, in Poole's comedy of that name, at the Gallery of Illustration, in 1870, and played in the afternoon a burlesque of which I was part author. These performances went off very well, and we were very much complimented (as all amateurs are), and declared our attempts to have eclipsed our neighbours (as all amateurs do). But such a thought as going on the stage never entered my head for a moment; I refused several offers, including a good one from Mr. E. P. Hingston to appear in the comic opera La Branche Cassee, at the Opera Comique, the very theatre at which I was destined to make my debut.
After entertaining all over the country for seven years, I made a rather important discovery; viz., that my income was as rapidly decreasing each year as my family and household expenses were increasing. I disliked being away so long from London; for there is nothing so valuable to any public singer or actor as the constant appearance of his name in the entertainments or theatrical columns of the metropolitan daily papers.
I had begun my autumn and winter tour with my father for 1877-8, when, in the November of 1877, I received the following letter:
"Beefsteak Club,
"King William Street, W.C.
"Tuesday Night.
"Dear Mr. Grossmith,—Are you inclined to go on the stage for a time? There is a part in the new piece I am doing with Gilbert which I think you would play admirably. I can't find a good man for it. Let me have a line, or come to 9 Albert Mansions to-morrow after 4, or Thursday before 2.30.
"Yours sincerely,
"ARTHUR SULLIVAN."
The great compliment which I considered the letter conveyed filled me with more delight than I ever could express. I think I read the letter over twenty times. I was not thinking of the offer of the engagement, for I was immediately under the impression that I should decline it. My father never had a good opinion of my amateur acting, and I valued his judgment so highly that his opinion was in a great measure shared by me.
Arthur Sullivan had only heard me sing once, after a dinner party, and it was evident, from his letter, I had created some sound impression; hence my extreme delight at his offer. I remember, after the said party, Sir Arthur (he was then Mr.) kindly asked me back to his rooms, with a few other friends, including Alfred Cellier, the composer, and Arthur Cecil, to whom I was (and still am) much indebted for the most valuable hints he had from time to time given me respecting the style of sketch and song suitable for "smart" drawing-room work, and who had taken great interest in me. At Sullivan's, that evening, we all sang, played, and chatted till an early hour in the morning; and I, as a comparatively "new" man, was especially "drawn out."