The Australian sense of humor is peculiar. My last night at Sydney, at the end of the five-thousand-dollar-week, I interpolated in my speech of farewell a line from Shakespeare, "Parting is such sweet sorrow." The audience applauded vociferously!

We packed with joyous anticipation. We were going home!

After we got out of the theatre I made straight for a little hotel run by a New England woman and gorged myself on baked beans! On the way I ran across Arthur Hoops and Louis Payne.

"Governor," said Payne, "if we turn up aboard the ship to-morrow a bit squiffy or with a hold-over, you won't mind, will you?" "Go to it," responded I. "I may turn up that way myself." They kept their promise and I nearly kept mine!

There were hundreds of people at the pier to see us off. I wondered if they were inspired by feelings of gratitude! It sounded like a courteous farewell but I was never sure.

At Honolulu we had our first taste of the "Welcome home" we were all so fondly counting on. A new theatre had just been finished and a Mr. Marks, now one of the lessees of the Columbia Theatre in San Francisco, was on the ground making arrangements for its formal opening as agent for the Frawley company.

Almost as soon as we docked a dozen gentlemen approached me and asked that I give a performance that night in the new playhouse. I told them it was impossible; our wardrobes and scenery were packed in the hold of the ship; it would be out of the question.

"Never mind," said they, "go on in your street clothes!"

I explained we had no make-up even. My company was scattered all over the island, sight-seeing.

"We'll send out a posse and corral them," they insisted.

"But how will anyone know we're going to play?" I asked.

"We'll call everybody in town on the telephone and tell them," they replied.

And they did. And that night, in our street clothes and without make-up, we gave a performance that took in $1100, of which I got ninety per cent! It was a nice bit of spending money on the way to San Francisco.

Marks was very indignant. But the gentlemen told him that if he tried to prevent the performance they would cancel the contract with Frawley.

Altogether that stop at Honolulu was joyous. And as we sailed out of the harbor the next morning, followed by the strains of Aloha from the native band, we were a very happy lot.

We were amazed to find a solid jam of humanity waiting on the pier in San Francisco. Such a greeting had never entered our minds! When we opened the newspapers we found the reason. They were teeming with the most sensational matter concerning our goings on in Australia. It was indeed a "welcome home!"

We paid as little attention to the scurrilous slanders as possible and prepared for our opening at the Baldwin Theatre in "An American Citizen." As a measure of safety I announced "The Rivals" as the bill for the second half of the week. But capacity audiences was the rule during the whole engagement.

I was very nervous about doing "The Rivals." I knew comparison with Jefferson was inevitable. I had caught it in Australia for daring to play a rÔle made classic by the "dean of the drama" and I feared for my presumption in invading his own bailiwick. I was afraid I could never avoid using Jefferson's methods as I had played with him so many times; but I finally hit on the plan of giving Bob a country dialect and this made him a very different characterization from Jefferson's. I received splendid reviews and one editorial.

Chapter LVI