Adventures and Letters HTML version

It was really a wonderfully dramatic spectacle to see the clown and officers and Geisha
girls weeping down their grease paint. Nellie Farren's great song was one about a street
Arab with the words: "Let me hold your, nag, sir, carry your little bag, sir, anything you
please to give--thank'ee, sir!" She used to close her hand, then open it and look at the
palm, then touch her cap with a very wonderful smile, and laugh when she said,
"Thank'ee, sir!" This song was reproduced for weeks before the benefit, and played all
over London, and when the curtain rose on her, the orchestra struck into it and the people
shouted as though it was the national anthem. Wyndham made a very good address and
so did Terry, then Wyndham said he would try to get her to speak. She has lost the use of
her hands and legs and can only walk with crutches, so he put his arm around her and her
son lifted her from the other side and then brought her to her feet, both crying like
children. You could hear the people sobbing, it was so still. She said, "Ladies and
Gentleman," looking at the stalls and boxes, then she turned her head to the people on the
stage below her and said, "Brothers and Sisters," then she stood looking for a long time at
the gallery gods who had been waiting there twenty hours. You could hear a long "Ah"
from the gallery when she looked up there, and then a "hush" from all over it and there
was absolute silence. Then she smiled and raised her finger to her bonnet and said,
"Thank'ee, sir," and sank back in her chair. It was the most dramatic thing I ever saw on a
stage. The orchestra struck up "Auld Lang Syne" and they gave three cheers on the stage
and in the house. The papers got out special editions, and said it was the greatest
theatrical event there had ever been in London. DICK.