CHAPTER X. I Buy a Basket, and go into the Provinces.

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UR season at the London theater came to a close early in December, and, about the end of November, we all be gan to take a great interest in the last page but one of “The Actor’s Bible.” Being just before Christmas, which is the busiest period of the theatrical year, there was no difficulty in getting another shop, for “Useful people,” “Clever people,” “Talented people,” “Knockabout people,” “First-class High Kickers,” and “Entire Dramatic Companies,” were wanted here, there, and everywhere. I only answered one advertisement, and was engaged at once; but this, no doubt, was owing to my having taken the precaution, when applying, of enclosing my photograph.

I was to join the company a week before Christmas, at a town in the west of England, where we were to open with pantomine. I was to give the first week for rehearsals at half salary, afterward receiving a guinea a week for “responsibles,” traveling expenses, when we went on tour, being paid by the management.

And here let me say that a more honorable and courteous gentleman than the manager of this company I never met. We did not even have to ask for our money; we were paid regularly, and to the last farthing, no matter whether business was good or bad. In short, he was an honest man, and as such held a conspicuous position among the theatrical managers of that day.

Previous to leaving London, I got together a small wardrobe. I already had a stock of boots and shoes, and tights, but these were only a few of the things required, and I found it rather an expensive matter before I had done. Varying in price from seven shillings to two pounds, wigs cost the most of anything, and I had to buy seven or eight of these—a “white Court,” a “brown George,” a “flowing ringlets,” a “scratch” (why called scratch I haven’t the faintest notion), a “comic oldman,” a “bald,” and a “flow” for everything that one was not quite sure about.

I picked up a good many odds and ends of costume in Petticoat Lane one Sunday morning. It is a famous place for theatrical wardrobes. I got a complete sailor’s suit for five shillings, and a suit of livery for sixteen. Old-fashioned swallowtails and embroidered waistcoats, knee breeches, blouses, pants, hats, cloaks, and swords were also to be had there in plenty, and at very small cost. My sisters made me some more things (they had become reconciled to my “mad trick” by this time, and had even got to rather like the idea of having an actor in the family), and for the rest I had to go to a regular costumier’s. All these articles, together with a pretty complete modern wardrobe, a bundle of acting editions and other books, a “make-up” box, a dressing-case, writing-case, etc., etc., made a pretty big pile, and, as this pile would be increased rather than diminished as time went on, I determined to get one big traveling basket to hold everything, and have done with it.