an away with Lady Bishop, (he
was the ugliest man for a Cavaliero I ever saw, being deeply pitted with
the smallpox)--had been giving some concerts which were exceedingly
unsuccessful. The people engaged got no money, De. Begnis having
completely failed in the speculation. The news of this having reached
London, Paganini heard of it, and when Mr. Lewis proposed to engage him,
he jumped at the conclusion that this was the same as De Begnis's
speculation and that there could be only one theatre in Liverpool. He
accordingly declined to come to Liverpool, unless the money to be paid to
him was first lodged at his bankers (Messrs. Coutts) in London. Mr.
Lewis saw through the Signor's error at once, and immediately remitted
1000 pounds to ratify the engagement for ten nights. Paganini played his
ten nights and drew on each of them from 280 pounds to 300 pounds, so
that, great as the risk was, the speculation was a most advantageous one
to the lessee. When Paganini came to the Amphitheatre in 1835 or '36 (I
think) with Watson as his manager, and Miss Watson as his _Cantatrice_,
he did not draw as on his first appearance, although the houses were very
good. I recollect talking to Mr. Watson on the stage between the parts,
when the gods, growing impatient, whistled loudly for a re-commencement
of the performance. Paganini, who happened to be near us, seemed rather
surprised at the noise, and turning to Watson he inquired _qu'est que
c'est ces tapageurs ces siffleurs_? and on being told, he grinned
horribly, and said in a low voice--_Bah_! _betes_!

I once was told, by one of the actors employed at the Theatre Royal, a
curious anecdote of a remarkable and distinguished lady. I don't
recollect the year it happened, but I think it must have been about 1829.
In that year a carriage drove up to the Theatre Royal, containing two
ladies, attended by a man-servant in green and gold livery. The servant
went into the theatre to inquire if Mr. Clarke, the stage-manager, was
in. On being answered in the affirmative, the stoutest of the two
ladies--for the other lady was quite young--stepped out of the carriage,
and without ceremony walked through the lobby straight upon the stage, to
the utter surprise of the hall-keeper who, like a masonic tyler, allows
no one to pass without a word or sign of recognition that they are of the
privileged. The man followed the lady, who, stepping to the footlights,
gazed around on that most desola