of paper, a steeple-crowned hat, and dangling, long-skirted, sky-blue
coat, was metamorphosed into the lover of Columbine. My part did not
call for much of the tender and sentimental. I had merely to pursue the
fugitive fair one; to have a door now and then slammed in my face; to
run my head occasionally against a post; to tumble and roll about with
Pantaloon and the clown; and to endure the hearty thwacks of
Harlequin's wooden sword.

As ill luck would have it, my poetical temperament began to ferment
within me, and to work out new troubles. The inflammatory air of a
great metropolis added to the rural scenes in which the fairs were
held; such as Greenwich Park; Epping Forest; and the lovely valley of
the West End, had a powerful effect upon me. While in Greenwich Park I
was witness to the old holiday games of running down hill; and kissing
in the ring; and then the firmament of blooming faces and blue eyes
that would be turned towards me as I was playing antics on the stage;
all these set my young blood, and my poetical vein, in full flow. In
short, I played my character to the life, and became desperately
enamored of Columbine. She was a trim, well-made, tempting girl, with a
rougish, dimpling face, and fine chestnut hair clustering all about it.
The moment I got fairly smitten, there was an end to all playing. I was
such a creature of fancy and feeling that I could not put on a
pretended, when I was powerfully affected by a real emotion. I could
not sport with a fiction that came so near to the fact. I became too
natural in my acting to succeed. And then, what a situation for a
lover! I was a mere stripling, and she played with my passion; for
girls soon grow more adroit and knowing in these than your awkward
youngsters. What agonies had I to suffer. Every time that she danced in
front of the booth and made such liberal displays of her charms, I was
in torment. To complete my misery, I had a real rival in Harlequin; an