It would be unkind, too, to those ignorant of my
busy life and the calls upon my time.
Still, I sometimes wish that the cost of a postage stamp were a
sovereign at least!
* * * * *
In 1887, the year of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, I find that I wrote in my
diary:--"I am not yet forty, but am pretty well worn out."
It is twenty years since then, and I am still not worn out. Wonderful!
THE DEATH OF HENRY IRVING
It is commonly known, I think, that Henry Irving's health first began to
fail in 1896.
He went home to Grafton Street after the first night of the revival of
"Richard III." and slipped on the stairs, injuring his knee. With
characteristic fortitude, he struggled to his feet unassisted and walked
to his room. This made the consequences of the accident far more
serious, and he was not able to act for weeks.
It was a bad year at the Lyceum.
In 1898 when we were on tour he caught a chill. Inflammation of the
lungs, bronchitis, pneumonia followed. His heart was affected. He was
never really well again.
When I think of his work during the next seven years, I could weep!
Never was there a more admirable, extraordinary worker; never was any
one more splendid-couraged and patient.
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