this difficulty
was met by the suggestion that your humble servant should take
the part of "Emily Trevor" in "Boots at the Swan." I protested my
inability, but was overruled. Not yet having occasion to use a razor,
and being youthful, it was decided that I should try my hand at
female impersonation, under the "stage name" of "Helen Fawcet." The
result of the experiment was that I subsequently took the parts of
"Julia Jenkins" in "Who Stole the Pocket-book?" and "Mary Madden" in
"Henry Dunbar." This last character was a rather more difficult one
than the others, and although I was perfect in my part, I was
reported in the next morning's _Colonist_ by "Leigh Harnett" as
looking very sweet, etc., but "as not speaking up," which, of course,
was a serious defect. This criticism was a damper on my theatrical
aspirations in female parts, for I returned to the commonplace parts
of a poacher, a brigand and a footman. The performances were
generally given for some charity, such as the Orphans of St. Ann, the
fire department, and so forth, and were "under" the distinguished
patronage of Admiral Hastings and officers of H.M.S. _Reindeer_, and
officers of the fleet often helped us out. I see by the bills that
the admission was $1.50 reserved seats, $1.00 unreserved, and 50
cents "pit," with $10 for a box. "Performance to commence promptly
at 7.30." The orchestra was composed, with others, of Digby Palmer,
F. S. Bushell, Gunther and Roberts, with, I think, Bandmaster Haynes.
All our performances were given under the direction of R. G. Marsh,
a standard theatrical manager, who, with his wife, adopted daughter,
"Jenny Arnot," his son and Miss Yeoman, was a great help to us. In
fact without their assistance we could not have produced plays with
female characters. Not to make this too long, I will wind up by
giving what I can remember of a piece called "The Merchant of Venice
Preserved," by a local poet. It was full of local hits, which only
those who were acquainted with politics and the questions of the day
at that time will understand:

"This shall Inform Bassanio that I'm done Brown,
My chance is up, my ship, alas! gone down.
The vessel on her homeward way, sir,
Laden with the rich products of the Fraser (river)--
The famed sal-lals for making jams,
Monster sturgeon, cranberries and clams--
Bumped on the sands and so a wreck became;
Captain, as usual, 'not at all to blame.'
The people here say just as they like