My first trip to England resulted in my being able to add to my list of imitations a study of Sir Henry Irving. How it came about may be of interest. It followed my decision to produce "Confusion" and "Turned Up."

"Confusion" had previously been played by Henry E. Dixey and Florence Gerard with some degree of success. I think they would have made a great success had they not made the play subservient to a most wonderful imitation of Henry Irving and Ellen Terry in a travesty on "The Merchant of Venice." They performed this travesty delightfully, but as it lasted only about thirty minutes and was the feature of the entertainment the piÈce de resistance naturally suffered.

I saw the possibilities of "Confusion" and made a deal with John Stetson for a road tour. I gave it a most excellent cast, including such names as John Mason, Robert Coote, Loie Fuller, Charles Bishop, Leila Farrell and others who were conspicuous at that time.

During this engagement I produced for the first time my burlesque of "The Bells," imitating Henry Irving as Mathias. It was a double bill and included "Turned Up." The performance made an instantaneous hit and I received much credit for what the press and public were pleased to call a most faithful reproduction of the great man. I was extremely nervous on the first night as I was following a magnificent imitation of Irving lately given in the same theatre by Henry E. Dixey who had scored a tremendous success. He had a striking make up for his Irving, suggesting him in face and carriage, but his reproduction was more of a caricature than mine and I suffered little by comparison.

Later on, while producing "The Bells" in conjunction with "Confusion" at the Grand Opera House, one of the company whispered, "Irving's in the box!" I nearly fainted. However, I had only a few moments more in which to finish the performance so I gritted my teeth and went to it.

Irving visited me later on in my dressing-room and grasping me by the hand ejaculated, "My dear Goodwin, I congratulate you! I had no idea that 'The Bells' was such an interesting play!"

"My dear Irving," I said, "think of the man you saw play it!"

"Having played the part for over twenty years and having seen your wonderful reproduction of me, I can now see where I have been very much in error," he replied laughingly.

Some years after at a supper given in my honor he referred to my performance very graciously, pronouncing it the only true burlesque he had ever witnessed, with the possible exception of one by Frederick Robson, called The Great Robson. Robson was a wonderful player of the early sixties.

I followed "Confusion" with "Turned Up," preceding each play with "Lend Me Five Shillings" and an adaption from the French of a play called "Gringoire." I was enabled to show a good profit on the correct side of the ledger for the following two years.

On my next trip to Europe I succeeded in interesting William Yardley to write for me. With Leander Richardson he adapted a play from the French which was produced successfully in London by Charles Wyndham and called "The Candidate." I returned to America that year with their adaption, calling it "The Nominee." I afterwards produced it for a limited run at the Bijou Theatre, New York.

Previously I had made several plunges into musical comedy and comic opera, producing with Edward E. Rice at the Boston Museum "Cinderella at School," "The Mascot" and "Pinafore." Those productions were given in a spirit of fun and as a relief from the more serious work which occupied my road tours. Irrespective of the profits which were made by these plunges into dissipation we always had a royal time.

It was here that I again resumed my delightful associations with dear old Ned Rice. What a misunderstood person is this happy-go-lucky ne'er-do-well who would spend his last twenty dollar bill to give a dinner to a pal! The sordid, practical manager of to-day would do well to emulate this self-sacrificing gentleman. Salaries meant nothing to him if he considered the actor necessary to enhance the artistic value of any of his magnificent productions. So thoughtful of his women and appreciative of his men was he as to make it a joy to be associated with him in the management of the classic Boston Museum. I was always fond of the comic opera style of entertainment and to be associated with Rice added greatly to my pleasure.

The extreme gratification of being for a time the lessee of a playhouse in which I had previously been conspicuous only as a spear carrier was joy indeed. To tear down the walls of respectability and storm the citadel of the legitimate; to make the sacred place a playground were dissipations which I enjoyed immensely. To surround myself with both principals and chorus after the matinee, have dinner served from the Parker House (and be able to liquidate from the profits of that matinÉe) in the greenroom, where the people were allowed to talk to one another without being subject to a fine for their audacity; to have the exquisite power of bringing viands behind the scenes without fear of challenge or interruption; with the satisfaction of knowing that only we knew what was going on behind the scenes of this revered old playhouse—these were joys indeed!

It was very wrong, no doubt, but nevertheless a beatific revenge for the cuffs I had received in years gone by. Maybe it was only a mistake. Perhaps I should not have indulged in these sprees, but the engagement was in the summer, we paid large salaries, the theatre was packed at every performance, the dignified and austere management shut their eyes to our moods and tenses and, really, after all, it was but a little holiday and John Mason, Joseph Haworth, William J. LeMoyne, Fred Archer, Barney Nolan, my dear brother Edward, Sadie Martinot, Catherine Lewis, Belle Archer, Rice and I enjoyed the outing, or inning, immensely!

Chapter XVII