The “share” system was worse even than this. It meant, in plain language, that, if the undertaking failed, the actors shared the losses amongst them, and, if it succeeded, the manager pocketed the profits.

As a matter of fact, actors were then the least considered, and the most imposed upon of any people connected with the stage. If, at that time, one of my friends had started as a theatrical manager, I might, with a view of saving him unnecessary expense, have given him the following hints:

“You must pay your bill-poster, or he won’t stick up your bills, or, if he does, it will be topsyturvy. Pay for your advertisements, or they won’t get inserted. Pay your carpenters and sceneshifters, or they’ll make it decidedly uncomfortable for you. Pay your money-takers or they’ll pay themselves; your gas, or it will be cut off; your rent, or you will be turned into the street. Be careful to pay the supers, too, or you’ll find when it is time for them to go on that they’ve all gone off. For goodness sake, don’t keep your charwoman waiting for her wages; you’ll not have five minutes’ quiet until she is satisfied. And if you don’t wish to find yourself in the County Court on Monday morning, pay your call boy on Saturday night. You must pay these people. It is not a case of choice, there is simply no help for you; if you don’t you’ll have to shut up shop in a couple of days. But you needn’t pay any one else. If you have a few shillings left that you really don’t know what to do with, you might divide it among the actors and actresses; but you can please yourself entirely about this. They work just the same whether they are paid or not.

“Your author, by the by, is another person you never need pay. Indeed, in his case, it would be positively dangerous to do so. There is no telling what effect such a shock might have upon him.

“Your company will, it is true, pester you a good deal for their money, and grumble and threaten, but it never comes to anything, and, after a while, you get used to it, and don’t mind.”

As to actors and actresses taking any actual measures for their own protection, the idea never occurred to them in their wildest dreams. If you suggested such a thing to them, it took their breath away, and you were looked upon as a young man with dangerous revolutionary tendencies that would some day get you into trouble. It was useless for one man to attempt to do anything by himself. I remember an actor summoning a manager who had cheated him out of seven pounds, and, after spending about ten pounds in costs, he got an order for payment by monthly instalments of ten shillings, not one of which, of course, he ever saw. After that, it was next to impossible for him to get a shop (this expression is not slang, it is a bit of local color). No manager who had heard of the affair would engage him.

“A pretty pass the stage will come to,” said they, “if this sort of thing is to become common.”

And the newspapers observed, it was a pity that he (the actor) should wash his dirty linen in public.

I have been careful to use the past tense all through these remarks. Some of them would apply very well to the present time, but on the whole, things have improved since I was on the stage. I am glad of it.