The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1871-01-16
DICKENS AMATEUR THEATR1oALs
nom Krerp SATURDAY.

FSoBl Every Saturday.
II is now some eighteen years since the
present writer-then in his school days--took
part in the earliest of those winter evening
festivities at the house of the late Charles
Dickens, which continued annually for seve-
raj years, terminating with the performance
of Mr.. Wilkie Collins drama of Ihe Frozen
Deep. And when he remembers the number
Of notable men who either shared In or
assisted Gn the French sense) at those dra-
matte revels, who have passed away In the In
terval, he is filed with desire to preserve
some recollections of evenings 80 memorable.
''What nights have we seen at the Mer-
meid!" What evenings we're those at Tavis-
took House, when the best wit, and fancy,
and culture of the day met within its hospi-
table walls. There was Thackeray, towering
in bodily form above the crowd, even as he
lowered in genius above them all, save only
one; Jerrold, with the blue convex eye,
which seemed to pierce into the very heart of
things and trace their subtle resemblances;
Leech, with his frank and manly beauty,
fresh from the portrayal of 'Master Jacky,"
or some other of the many forms of boy
hood he knew SO we'll; Mark Lemon, "the
frolic and the gentle" (dear to all us younger
ones, irrespective of blood-relationship, as
"Uncle Mark'); Albert Smith, dropping in
late in the evening after two or three thou
sandth ascent of Mont Blanc, but never re-
IublnR at our eHTuoSI 6uUTedby 10 Blu uOWu W
the piano and sing us 'My Lord Tomnoddy,
or his own latest edition of GaLigaants Mes
sengeT; Augustus Egg, with his dry humor,
touching from contrast with the face of suf-
fering that gave sad presage of his early
death; Frank Stone, the kindly neighbor
and friend, keen as any of us boys for
his part in the afterpiece Stanfeld,
with the beaming face, "a largess uni
versal like the sun, ," his practiced hand and
m ula with or
pieces of scene painting for the Lighthouse
or the Ice-felds; and last-but not here to
be dismissed with O few lines only-our
bountiful host, like Triplet, "author, man.
ager, and actor too;" organizer, deviser, aud
harmonizer of all the incongruous assembled
elements; the friend whom we have so lately
lost, the incompatible Dickens. The very
walls Of that home and the furniture
which filed it were rich in interest
and eloquence of his fame and the tribute
which it had brought him: the testimonial
given him at Birmingham; the handsome case
of cutlery sent him by Mr.. Brooks, of Shelf
field (recognizant of the chance mention of
his name in the pages of "Copperfeld")
Grip the raven, in his habit as he lived, under
the glass case in the hall; the Chinese gong,
then less common in English houses than now,
reminding the reader familiar with his ''Dick-
ens," Of that one at DIR. Blimbers which the
weak-eyed young man, to Pauls amaze
ment, suddenly let fly at ''as if he had gone
mad or wanted vengeance" the pictures
which looked down upon us from the
walls of dining-room and staircase, Sir
Charles Coldstream in his ploughboy's dis
guise, or Bobadil PROSTATE on the couch; the
lady in the barouche reading the current
number of "Bleak House" and the curious
tiger skimming the contents over her shoul-
der; Dolly Warden in the wood; poor Kate
Nickleby at work in Madame Mantalini's s
showroom; little Nell among the tombs of
that old church which in these days of resto-
ration will soon have no existence but on the
canvas of George Cattermole; these, and
many more such signs of the atmosphere of
art and literature in which we moved, were
gathered then-and are now scattered to the
four winds
In one sense our theatricals began and
ended in the school-room. To the last that
apartment served us for stage and auditorium
and all. But in another sense we got pro-
motion from the childrens domain by de-
grees. Our earliest efforts were confined to
the children of the family and their equals 10
age, though always aided and abetted by the
good. natured manager, who imprevised cos
tumes painted and corked our innocent
cheeks, and suggested all the most effective
business of the scene. Our first attempt
was the performance of Albert Smith s
little burletta of Guy Fdaobes, which
appeared originally in the pages of his month
ly periodical, the Man in the Moon; at another
time we played William TEL, from the late
Mr.. Robert Brough's clever little volume "a
Cracker Bon-bon for Evening Parties" In
those days there were still extravaganzas writ
ten with real humor and abundant taste and
fancy. The Broughs, Gilbert Beckett, and
Mr. Planche could write rhymed couplets of
great literary excellence, without ever over
stepping the bounds of reverence
and good taste. Extreme purists may
regret that the story of the strug-
gle for Swiss independence should ever
be presented to children in association with
anything ludicrous; but, those critics ex-
cepted, no other could object to the spirit of
''gracious fooling" in which Mr.. Brough re-
presented William Tell brought up before
Gesler for contempt of hat;" Albert, his pre-
cocious son, resolving that, as to betraying
his father, Though torn in half, I'll not be
made to split" and when he comforts his
father, about to shoot at the apple by assur-
ing him that he is ''game," " the father reply
ing, "Wert thou game, would preserve, not
shoot thee" This is drollery, it seems to us,
not unworthy of Sydney Smith or Hood, and
in no way to be placed in the same catalogue
with the vulgarities and inanities of later
brood.
Another year found us more ambitious,
and with stronger resources, for Mr. Dickens
himself and Mr.. Mark Lemon Joined our
acting staff, though, with kindly considera.
tion for their young brethren, they chose
subordinate parts. In Mr.. Planches ele
CANT and most witty fairy extravaganza OF
B0TtuntO and HIS Se0en GIFTED Ser0aRts Mr.
Dickens took the part of the old 'Baron
Dunover," whose daughters so valiantly adopt
contenting himself with the role Of the "Dra.
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