of it was again the centre of attraction. Whether
he were solemnly slapping his chest and singing about glory, or solemnly
patting his head and singing about grapes, was immaterial: he was the
soldier for us. What the plot was about did not matter, so long as he
was in it. Who led the mob one did not care; one's desire was to see
him lead. How others fought and died was matter of no moment; to see him
slaughtered was sufficient. Whether his unconsciousness was assumed or
natural I cannot say; in either case it was admirable. An earnest young
man, over-anxious, if anything, to do his duty by his employers, was
the extent of the charge that could be brought against him. Our chief
comedian frowned and fumed; our stage manager was in despair. Mr.
Hodgson and the author of the English version, on the contrary, appeared
kindly disposed towards the gentleman. In addition to the widowed
mother, Mr. Hodgson had invented for him five younger brothers and
sisters utterly destitute but for his earnings. To deprive so exemplary
a son and brother of the means of earning a livelihood for dear ones
dependent upon him was not in Mr. Hodgson's heart. Our chief comedian
dissociated himself from all uncharitable feelings--would subscribe
towards the subsistence of the young man out of his own pocket, his
only concern being the success of the opera. The author of the English
version was convinced the young man would not accept a charity; had
known him for years--was a most sensitive creature.

The rehearsal proceeded. In the last act it became necessary for me to
kiss the thin lady.

"I am very sorry," said the thin lady, "but duty is duty. It has to be
done."

Again I followed directions. The thin lady was good enough to
congratulate me on my performance.

The last three or four rehearsals we performed in company with the
principals. Divided counsels rendered them decidedly harassing. Our
chief comedian had his views, and they were decided; the leading lady
had hers, and was generous with them. The author of the English version
possessed his also, but of these nobody took much notice. Once every
twenty minutes the stage manager washed his hands of the whole affair
and left the theatre in despair, and anybody's hat that happened to
be handy, to return a few minutes later full of renewed hope. The
sentimental baritone was sarcastic, the tenor distinctly rude to
everybody. Mr. Hodgson's method was to agree with all and listen to
none. T