n with pleasant voices and big,
starched, white aprons. I was at Stratford four days and went just four
times to the old curiosity-shop. Each day the same bright British damsel
conducted me through, and told her tale, but it was always with
animation, and a certain sweet satisfaction in her mission and starched
apron that was very charming.

No man can tell the same story over and over without soon reaching a
point where he betrays his weariness, and then he flavors the whole with
a dash of contempt; but a good woman, heaven bless her! is ever eager to
please. Each time when we came to that document certified to by

Her
"Judith X Shakespeare,"
Mark

I was told that it was very probable that Judith could write, but that
she affixed her name thus in merry jest.

John Shakespeare could not write, we have no reason to suppose that Ann
Hathaway could, and this little explanation about the daughter is so very
good that it deserves to rank with that other pleasant subterfuge, "The
age of miracles is past"; or that bit of jolly claptrap concerning the
sacred baboons that are seen about certain temples in India: "They can
talk," explain the priests, "but being wise they never do."

Judith married Thomas Quiney. The only letter addressed to Shakespeare
that can be found is one from the happy father of Thomas, Mr. Richard
Quiney, wherein he asks for a loan of thirty pounds. Whether he was
accommodated we can not say; and if he was, did he pay it back, is a
question that has caused much hot debate. But it is worthy of note that,
although considerable doubt as to authenticity has smooched the other
Shakespearian relics, yet the fact of the poet having been "struck" for a
loan by Richard Quiney stands out in a solemn way as the one undisputed
thing in the master's career. Little did Mr. Quiney think, when he wrote
that letter, that he was writing for the ages. Philanthropists have won
all by giving money, but who save Quiney has reaped immortality by asking
for it!

The inscription over Shakespeare's grave is an offer of reward if you do,
and a threat of punishment if you don't, all in choice doggerel. Why did
he not learn at the feet of Sir Thomas Lucy and write his own epitaph?

But I rather guess I know why his grave was not marked with his name. He
was a play-actor, and the church people would have been outraged at the
thought of burying a "strolling player" in that sacred chancel. But his
son-in