At last the first night is over and we have taken the people by storm.
The theater is crowded and every number is encored. We have set the
town talking and I expect the theater will not hold the people for
tonight. House packed. Vivian is the funniest man I ever saw or heard.
I nearly choke with laughter. In singing my song in costume tonight, a
very pretty and touching incident occurred. Lord Mayor Drummond and
family occupied one of the boxes. With them was their grandchild,
about three or four years old. When I came out dressed as an old
Scotch woman and leading Mr. Kohler, who represented John Anderson my
Joe, her clear voice rang out, "Oh, grandpa, can I give my posie to
the dear old lady?" By the time I had placed John in the large arm
chair they had quieted her and the song proceeded. When the song was
finished a silence of death was the only evidence we received, until
we were nearly off the stage and the people awoke to the realization
that the song was done and the singers gone. Then applause broke like
a whirlwind and we were obliged to return three or four times to
acknowledge our appreciation. At the close of the performance the Lord
Mayor came with his family on the stage with his grandchild to see the
dear old lady. I had retired to the dressing room and removed my
costume and was ready to go to the hotel. When I came back Mr. Kohler
introduced me and pointed me out to the child. She drew back with her
posies and said, "Not this lady, the old lady." No persuasion could
induce her to give me the bouquet. At last I told her to come with me
and I'd show her the old lady. I returned to the dressing room and
showed her the cap and other articles of the costume and told her I
wore them and I was only playing I was old. She looked at me and drew
a long breath, smiled and handed me the posies. I took the flowers
from the child and we joined the party who were watching our
performance with much pleasure. They asked her if she found the old
lady and she replied, "Yes, she only played she was old like grandma."
Mayor Drummond complimented me on my song and reminded me that it was
his favorite Scotch song. Our first night won for us great
recognition. About two o'clock we were serenaded at the hotel by the
Victoria band. The company acknowledged the compliment but I remained
in my room.
The next day we were taken all over the city and shown the principal
features by the Lord Mayor and his family. At two o'clock we returned
to his mansion where we had luncheon. After passing several hours
pleasantly with his lordship we were brought home in time to rest for
the second night's performance, Friday. The house was again packed,
enthusiasm ran high and everything on the program was encored. The
boxes were filled with beautiful women and their escorts. The morning
papers were loud with praises of our selections and how they had been
rendered.
The wind and rain had turned into a heavy snow fall. We were due at
Nanaimo for the next concert and despite the storm we started and
arrived safely Wednesday morning, March 8. We sang in Institute hall
and a fine place for sound it was. We had a crowded house and were
well received. We were to return to Victoria the following day. The
snow was deep and it was cold and blowing hard. Unable to secure an
express wagon, we improvised a sleigh and the boys put our things into
it and dragged the sleigh to the depot. We boarded the Northern
Pacific and started up the Sound. Snow everywhere. The scenery was
beautiful. Mount Baker was a lovely sight, just like one solid piece
of ice. We arrived in Seattle at one o'clock in the afternoon and went
directly to the Cosmopolitan.
Let me quote from my diary. Saturday, March 11th: "Our entertainment
last night was given in the cabin of a steamer which had been
fashioned into a music hall and it proved a fine place to sing in and
we had a packed house in spite of snow and rain. We met with a great
reception and one encore after another had to be given. Sunday, 12th.
We started for Steillacoom on the steamer Alida and arrived early and
were taken to the Harmon House. In the absence of a hall to sing in we
gave our concert in the hotel dining-room with a melodeon for our only
instrument. We made the best of the situation. All were in good humor
and our auditors enjoyed the programme very much. The next morning we
left for Olympia. At one o'clock we arrived in Olympia, the capital of
Washington Territory, and were taken to the Carlton House. Concert
tonight and off for Tacoma tomorrow at eight o'clock."
After the concert was over at Olympia I was surprised to be called
back to the auditorium by Mr. Kohler who informed me that some
friends wished to speak to me. To my surprise twenty-five persons
greeted me and made me welcome. I never knew one of them before, but
each one had heard me sing in San Francisco years gone by and was as
glad to hear me sing as if we had been old friends. My singing had
impressed them so that they desired to know me personally upon hearing
me again. Several of them even told me the songs I sang and others the
different places and particular concerts where I sang. At this point I
wish to say that to me this means the true singer. If the
interpretation of the song and the singer leave a memory of pleasant
remembrance, then the singer has found the secret of success and earns
the reputation that no one can deny or take away from him or her.
Riches, influence, envy, jealousy can never buy that which the singer
has not. It must rest with the individuality and musical temperament
of the artist and the art of giving to the hearer what the writer
intended he should give.
At Tacoma we had very comfortable quarters at the Carlton House. As we
were coming up the Sound in the steamer Zephyr I was in the cabin
asleep. The Sound was rough, I am not a good sailor, and how long I
slept I know not, but I awoke with a start and a loud report greeted
my ears. As I opened my eyes I saw the white faces of women and
children and steam filling the cabin. In my bewilderment I was really
frightened. All this must have taken place in a moment, for I had not
time to fully awaken when the members of our troupe hastily entered
enquiring for Mrs. Blake, is she hurt, etc. Well the Tacoma concert is
also a thing of the past and we left many friends in consequence of
our good work. Now we are off for Portland, Oregon. March 17th, St.
Patrick's Day. Our concert last night was a bouncing one. The
beautiful theater was packed and we were received royally and the
morning papers were loud in our praise. We are having rain this
morning. Being St. Patrick's day our house was not packed, but
comfortably filled. Of course we had an Irish programme which was just
the right key note and the people gave us a hearty reception and many
recalls. After the concert, friends came in carriages and took us to
the St. Patrick's ball given by the upper class of Irish citizens. It
was my first experience at an Irish ball. I did not retire until two
o'clock in the morning, pretty well convinced that the Gaelic dancers
are people to enjoy their fun to the utmost. March 18th. At the
matinee this afternoon a very laughable episode occurred. After
singing the second encore there was a fine bouquet thrown on the stage
for me. It failed to reach but fell in the orchestra. A nice looking
and well groomed gentleman quickly jumped over and caught the bouquet
and sent it upon the stage with a bow and a smile. As he attempted to
return he fell headlong. Such a laugh went up! It was funny to see him
sprawling on the floor in full dress. The cheers and laughter were so
uproarious I was obliged to stop until they had subsided. He turned to
the audience and made a profound bow, then we proceeded with the
programme. This evening's concert was a success from start to finish.
Sunday, March 9th. Having met some pleasant people in our travels,
Mrs. Baxter of Tacoma, Mrs. Gaten of Portland, and a friend of mine,
Mrs. Kilbourn, we were enabled to see more of the places of interest
during our stay in Portland. At ten o'clock our friends arrived at the
hotel and in a smart conveyance we were soon enjoying the brisk
morning air. Our destination was a Sisters' Hospital. After an hour's
ride we alighted in front of this spacious, comfortable-looking
building which proved to be St. Joseph's Hospital. We were welcomed by
Sister Josephine who guided us all over the place, the dormitories,
dining room, halls and corridors. Everything was kept in the neatest
order. At last we stopped in front of the chapel. The place was
partially lighted, showing the altar of white and gold, the brass
candlesticks and vases of marble filled with roses. The altar was
draped with white linen and pink silk linings and lace frills. A soft
pink light pervaded the place, which gave it an ethereal appearance
and filled me with solemn awe as I turned away. The day had begun very
fair but when we returned to the hotel the rain was in full force.
After dinner our friends called again and we were taken to their
beautiful mansion where we met a company of eight very interesting
persons, and with pleasant repartee and some good music we enjoyed the
hours until ten o'clock when we were once more returned to the hotel
and, tired out from our day's adventures, sleep soon claimed us.
Monday, the 20th, we gave our last concert and we had a most
magnificent reception and a crowded and enthusiastic house. Vivian was
in great form and his "Ten Thousand Miles Away" and "Where's Rosanna
Gone" took the house by storm. Walter and I received our share of
glory as did Mr. Wand and Mr. Kohler. Thus ended our three nights
and one matinee in Portland, Oregon. Left Portland for Oregon City and
arrived about six o'clock in the evening. The scenery here is
magnificent. The city is one long street, the valley is not wider than
to allow one street and two rows of railroad tracks, then comes the
Willamette river and across that the canal and the high mountains
again. Above the Imperial Mills are the Willamette Falls. As I stood
within several feet of the falls I looked on the scene below the large
mills, the canal, mountains, the small quaint town. We could see the
boats in the canal unloading their freight. The Cliff House was the
only hotel; not attractive but well kept. Our house was not well
filled; the mill men were angry at a dollar admission so remained away
and missed the fun for their pains.
[Illustration: WILLIAM H. KEITH, Baritone