"
When next I entered the sitting-room she again addressed me, to
deplore the degenerate taste of the age.
"Would you believe it? I have at this moment a comedy ready for
representation; I call it 'The Mad Philosopher.' It is really
admirable, and its success certain, if I could get it played.
I assure you the neglect I meet with amounts perfectly to
persecution. But I have found out how to pay them, and to make
my own fortune. Sat-here, (as she constantly pronounced satire)
sat-here is the only weapon that can revenge neglect, and I
flatter myself I know how to use it. Do me the favour to look
at this,"
She then presented me with a tiny pamphlet, whose price, she
informed me, was twenty-five cents, which I readily paid to
become the possessor of this _chef d'oeuvre_. The composition
was pretty nearly such as I anticipated, excepting that the
English language was done to death by her pen still more than by
her tongue. The epigraph, which was subscribed "original," was
as follows:
"Your popularity's on the decline:
You had your triumph! now I'll have mine."
These are rather a favourable specimen of the verses that follow.
In a subsequent conversation she made me acquainted with another
talent, informing me that she had played the part of Charlotte,
in _Love a la mode_, when General Lafayette honoured the theatre
at Cincinnati with his presence.
She now appeared to have run out the catalogue of her
accomplishments; and I came to the conclusion that my new
acquaintance was a strolling player: but she seemed to guess my
thoughts, for she presently added.
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