What was I to do? I tied sundry pocket-handkerchiefs together, which I wetted. I then tied an ornament that served as a paper weight, being rather heavy, and holding one end of the wet handkerchief in my hand, I threw the heavy end towards the ladder, which it caught, winding itself round one of the rungs so tightly that I was enabled to draw it towards me and place it just under my window, ready for the evening.
The evening came. I waited till my parents were at supper. This was just about the time that the evening's performance would be at an end. I donned my worst clothes, and tying up some necessaries in a handkerchief and taking a walking-stick to carry the bundle across my shoulder, I opened my casement and cautiously descended the ladder till I found myself in the garden.
There was yet another obstacle to be overcome; the garden wall had to be scaled, for the gate was already locked. The wall was high, but after much exertion and many falls, I scrambled up—I hardly know how—and leapt down the other side into the road. I found that I had ripped up my coat behind and damaged the knees of my small clothes.
In this plight I made my appearance before the manager. He looked at me from head to foot, scrutinisingly; asked me my name and what I had been bred up to. I gave him the name I bear at present, and said that I had never been brought up to any trade, but had always had a taste for the stage.
"Humph!" he muttered, observing that I spoke better English than himself or his company, "you appear a youth of some little education—eh?"
"I trust that will not unfit me for your company?" I said.
"On the contrary, young man," he said, "we are in want of educated actors; but what brings you in this pitiful plight?"
"The frowns of fortune," I observed, laconically.
"Ah!" he observed, with a smile; "I understand. Well, what can you do?"
"My forte," I replied, "is high tragedy."