‘Well, you see, lady, father has a big jar of stuff like brown oil—I don’t know its real name—and my brother rubs his hands all over with some of it—very little does; then the knives cannot cut him. It will only come off again by washing his hands in mostly boiling water.’
‘How many are there in your company?’
‘We have only three at present,’ she replied, ‘besides the family. When we want more, my married sister lends us one or two out of her troupe; but of course we pay them. Those we have now act very fair: one gets five shillings a night; and the other two get three shillings and half a crown. If we have a good take at the door, father will give them an extra shilling apiece all round; but some nights they get all we make, and we get none. We only took one pound between these two nights. Business is slack; but maybe we’ll make more soon, when the people in the country hear of us; for we are a most respectable company,’ she added proudly. ‘In the last village we were in, we “took” a lot because we had the wonderful speaking pony “Jack.” But another company as had a travelling theatre too, came while we were there; and as they were poorer than we were, father, who is real good to any one in the profession, lent them the pony.’
‘And what could this wonderful pony do?’
‘He could most speak, lady, he was that clever. At Pound’s Place—that’s where we were afore we came here—we lodged with a grocer in the village. He had a little girl as used to steal sweets out of the bottle from behind the counter in the shop; and the pony found it out, and told on her.’
‘How did he do that? Tell me some of this clever animal’s tricks.’
‘Well, lady, you see, this night father and Jack came on the platform as usual. First, father says: “Now, Jack, who is the biggest rogue in the theatre?” The pony walked round and looked at every one, and then came back and stood before father and nodded his head twice, which meant, “You are.” But that’s only a part of the play, lady; father isn’t really a rogue—he’s real good. Then father says again: “I wonder, Jack, could you discover who likes a good pinch of snuff?” Jack looked about, and walked a few steps and then stopped before the old woman who sold apples round the corner. ’Twas quite true,’ continued the child, ‘for she used to buy it where we lodged.—After this, father said: “Now, Jack, as you are so clever, tell the company which of all the little girls present likes sweets, and is in the habit of stealing them?”—and if Jack didn’t find out Mollie—that’s the little girl as I told you of, lady—and he nodded and nodded his head ever so often, to show he was quite sure it was Mollie! She was very angry, and began to cry, and told Jack as how she didn’t steal them. But he knew it was a lie,’ added Mary, ‘for he would not go away, though father called him. And Mollie she was that mad, she would never again come inside the theatre, she said, because the pony told lies of her before every one!
‘We have different plays each night, and have beautiful “cuts.” Some nights, when the reserved seats are mostly empty, we have only singing and dancing. My sister does a lot of steps then; and when she comes off the stage she is well-nigh dead, she is so hot and tired. Mother is tired every day; for she coughs nearly all night. We are mostly all tired,’ the child continued, ‘for ’tis twelve o’clock, and often one, before we get to bed any night. Then there is a rehearsal every day at twelve o’clock. Mother never gets up till ’tis time to go to it.—Our tent was partly blown down last night, lady, for it blew very hard, and it was much damaged. Every strip of canvas costs six shillings, and it takes a great many to make a tent. Mother and the company are mending it now, while I am here.’
‘How long will you remain in our village?’
‘Maybe a week longer, or maybe two,’ answered the child; ‘it all depends on the “take” we have. We were six weeks in Pound’s Place; but we’ve only made enough these two nights here to pay the company, and had nothing for ourselves. We are often hungry, Jim and me.’