she can cry with vexation, I feel sure that she will then be able to
make a good attempt at doing it!

There were oppositions and jealousies in the Keans' camp, as in most
theaters, but they were never brought to my notice until I played Prince
Arthur. Then I saw a great deal of Mr. Ryder, who was the Hubert of the
production, and discovered that there was some soreness between him and
his manager. Ryder was a very pugnacious man--an admirable actor, and in
appearance like an old tree that has been struck by lightning, or a
greenless, barren rock; and he was very strong in his likes and
dislikes, and in his manner of expressing them.

"D'ye suppose he engaged me for my powers as an actor?" he used to say
of Mr. Kean. "Not a bit of it! He engaged me for my d----d
archaeological figure!"

One night during the run of "King John," a notice was put up that no
curtain calls would be allowed at the end of a scene. At the end of my
scene with Hubert there was tremendous applause, and when we did not
appear, the audience began to shout and yell and cheer. I went off to
the greenroom, but even from there I could still hear the voices:
"Hubert! Arthur!" Mr. Kean began the next scene, but it was of no use.
He had to give in and send for us. Meanwhile old Ryder had been striding
up and down the greenroom in a perfect fury. "Never mind, ducky!" he
kept on saying to me; and it was really quite unnecessary, for "ducky"
was just enjoying the noise and thinking it all capital fun. "Never
mind! When other people are rotting in their graves, ducky, you'll be up
there!" (with a terrific gesture indicative of the dizzy heights of
fame). When the message came to the greenroom that we were to take the
call, he strode across the stage to the entrance, I running after him