We may now follow the Ben Terrys and their pretty children to the London Princess's Theatre, where the experienced actor not only played many parts but became assistant stage-manager to Charles Kean. Considering the magnitude of the productions aimed at, this must have been a post of no small importance and responsibility. When the famous series of Shakespearean revivals demanded the appearance of clever children, what was more natural than a conference between Kean and his trusted lieutenant, and the recommendation by the fond father of the engagement of his gifted little daughters, Kate and Ellen? Their services were secured, and at a very early period of their lives they began to make stage history. Their achievements in the once famous Oxford Street playhouse will be recorded in the next chapter. In the meantime it is pleasant to touch upon some of Ellen Terry's impressions of her earliest childhood.

In a charming series of papers entitled "Stray Memories," contributed by her to the New Review about ten years ago, she thus delightfully as well as dutifully recalls memories of her father and mother. "It must be remembered," she says, "that my sister and I had the advantage of exceedingly clever and conscientious parents who spared no pains to bring out and perfect any talents that we possessed. My father was a very charming elocutionist, and my mother read Shakespeare beautifully, and then both were very fond of us and saw our faults with eyes of love, though they were unsparing in their corrections. And, indeed, they had need of all their patience, for, for my own part, I know I was a most troublesome, wayward pupil. However, 'the labour we delight in physics pain,' and I hope, too, that my more staid sister 'made it up to them.'"

Can anything be prettier than this daintily recorded, and no doubt uncalled for admission?

ELLEN TERRY WHEN EIGHT YEARS OF AGE.

The autograph shows her signature of to-day. [To face page 24.

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With one more glimpse of her home-life in childhood I will bring this chapter of "Beginnings" to a close. Some time ago it occurred to those who are responsible for that always sprightly journal, The Referee, to ask some stage celebrities to contribute to their Yule-tide number their impressions of Christmas in their early days—of Christmas, the great and never-to-be-forgotten holiday of little folk.

And this is what Ellen Terry conjured up:—

"Really," she said, "I have no Christmas experience worth recounting. Ever since I can remember, Christmas Day has been for me at first a day on which I received a good many keepsakes, and afterwards a day on which I gave a good many little gifts.