tier--a request which was always granted. The boys exchanged duties to
give each the coveted entrance in turn.

In this way I became acquainted with the world that lay behind the
green curtain. The plays, generally, were of the spectacular order;
without much literary merit, but well calculated to dazzle the eye of
a youth of fifteen. Not only had I never seen anything so grand, but I
had never seen anything of the kind. I had never been in a theater, or
even a concert room, or seen any form of public amusement. It was much
the same with "Davy" McCargo, "Harry" Oliver, and "Bob" Pitcairn. We
all fell under the fascination of the footlights, and every
opportunity to attend the theater was eagerly embraced.

A change in my tastes came when "Gust" Adams,[17] one of the most
celebrated tragedians of the day, began to play in Pittsburgh a round
of Shakespearean characters. Thenceforth there was nothing for me but
Shakespeare. I seemed to be able to memorize him almost without
effort. Never before had I realized what magic lay in words. The
rhythm and the melody all seemed to find a resting-place in me, to
melt into a solid mass which lay ready to come at call. It was a new
language and its appreciation I certainly owe to dramatic
representation, for, until I saw "Macbeth" played, my interest in
Shakespeare was not aroused. I had not read the plays.

[Footnote 17: Edwin Adams.]

At a much later date, Wagner was revealed to me in "Lohengrin." I had
heard at the Academy of Music in New York, little or nothing by him
when the overture to "Lohengrin" thrilled me as a new revelation.
Here was a genius, indeed, differing from all before, a new ladder