en narrow
and sordid, and lay chill under the shadow of poverty.... Now,
standing humbly at the knee of Shakespeare, she began to learn
something of another world--fairy-like in fascination, marvelous in
reality. A world of sunny days and jeweled nights, of splendid
palaces, caves, of horrors, forests of mystery, and meadows of smiling
candor. All people, too, with such soldiers, statesmen, lovers,
clowns, such women of splendid honor, fierce ambition, thistle-down
lightness, as makes the heart beat fast to think of.

That was the era of Shakesperian performances, and out of twenty-eight
stars who played with the support of Mr. Ellsler's company, eighteen
acted in the famous classic plays. All stars played a week's
engagement, some two, so at least half of the season of forty-two
weeks was given over to Shakespeare's plays, and every actor and
actress had his lines at their tongues' tips, while there were endless
discussions about the best rendering of famous passages.

"I well remember," says Miss Morris, "my first step into theatrical
controversy. 'Macbeth' was being rehearsed, and the star had just
exclaimed: 'Hang out our banners on the outward walls!' That was
enough--argument was on. It grew animated. Some were for: 'Hang out
our banners! On the outward walls the cry is still, they come!' while
one or two were with the star's reading.

"I stood listening, and looking on, and fairly sizzling with hot
desire to speak, but dared not take the liberty. Presently an actor,
noticing my eagerness, laughingly said:

"'Well, what is it, Clara? You'll have a fit if you don't ease your
mind with speech.'

"'Oh, Uncle Dick,' I answered, my words fairly tripping over one
another in my haste, 'I have a picture home, I cut out of a paper;
it's a picture of a great castle with towers and moats and things, and
on the outer walls are men with spears and shields, and they seem to
be looking for the enemy, and, Uncle Dick, the _banner_ is floating
over the high tower! So, don't you think it ought to be read: "Hang
out our banners! On the outward walls"--the outward wall, you know, is
where the lookouts are standing--"the cry is still, they come!"'

"A general laugh followed my excited explanation, but Uncle Dick
patted me on the shoulder and said:

"'Good girl, you stick to your picture--it's right, and so are you.
Many people read that line that way, but you have worked it out for
yourself, and that's a good plan to follow.'