Alas, sir! I was one of the
Most uncomfortable dogs living. No one knows, who has not tried, the
miseries of a manager; but above all, of a country management--no one
can conceive the contentions and quarrels within doors, the oppressions
and vexations from without.
I was pestered with the bloods and loungers of a country town, who
infested my green-room, and played the mischief among my actresses. But
there was no shaking them off. It would have been ruin to affront them;
for, though troublesome friends, they would have been dangerous
enemies. Then there were the village critics and village amateurs, who
were continually tormenting me with advice, and getting into a passion
if I would not take it:--especially the village doctor and the village
attorney; who had both been to London occasionally, and knew what
acting should be.
I had also to manage as arrant a crew of scapegraces as were ever
collected together within the walls of a theatre. I had been obliged to
combine my original troupe with some of the former troupe of the
theatre, who were favorites with the public. Here was a mixture that
produced perpetual ferment. They were all the time either fighting or
frolicking with each other, and I scarcely knew which mood was least
troublesome. If they quarrelled, everything went wrong; and if they
were friends, they were continually playing off some confounded prank
upon each other, or upon me; for I had unhappily acquired among them
the character of an easy, good natured fellow, the worst character that
a manager can possess.
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