MISS O’BRIEN--AMATEUR ACTORS--A PERFORMANCE IN AID OF OUR FUND.
All this time I was doing little or nothing for the male lepers. My
monthly subscriptions were not sufficient to allow of my extending any
gifts to them, much as I should have liked to have done so. Brother
John undertook to provide them with tobacco, but he could do no more;
for his salary amounted to but Rs. 50 (about £3 10s.) a month, out of
which he had to keep himself and to feed many hungry sailors who found
their way to his rooms. The native women, too, in the other wards were
asking me to bring them fruit. Feeling myself cramped from want of
funds, I took counsel with a dear friend of mine, Miss O’Brien, who
lived opposite our house, and who had assisted me in many ways with
my work. She was the eldest of a large family, who were left almost
penniless on the death of their father. Instead of asking alms of
friends and acquaintances, she opened a school for young children,
and by dint of hard and constant work, managed to support and assist
the whole family until they were able to work for themselves. Another
sister is the possessor of a fine soprano voice, which was trained
in England by Signor Visetti. She is now one of the most popular
singing-mistresses in Calcutta, and is able to assist her elder sister
in keeping their old mother in comfort. These two admirable girls
became greatly interested in my work among the lepers. The elder one
read my articles to the school children. Over a hundred scholars were
told of Bella and Daisy in the Leper Asylum. They raised a subscription
among themselves, and sent me various small sums from time to time. The
school-mistress, being cleverer than I am at book-keeping, took charge
of my subscription-book and fund-money, giving me what I required every
week for the lepers. She would have liked to have accompanied me on one
of my visits to the asylum, but her mother forbad her doing so, which,
considering her position as head of a large school, was perhaps wise.
Finding our Leper Fund getting low, and myself unable to do anything
for the male lepers, my friends and I put our heads together one Sunday
afternoon, and wrote out an appeal for more money, which we had printed
and distributed round Calcutta. We also thought out a programme for
an entertainment to be given in aid of the Leper Fund, to which we
would all contribute help. I suggested that a lady pianiste should
play a solo, my friend should sing something, we would ask a couple
of gentlemen friends to sing also, the school children could wind up
the first part with the pretty Highland schottische they had danced
in the theatre on their last prize distribution day, and that I would
arrange for the acting of “Our Bitterest Foe,” a pretty little play for
three actors, which would fill the second part of the programme. Alas!
the getting up of any performance is not at all so easy as it seems.
Mrs. De Montmorency Smith will not promise to take part in any concert
without first having had the names of the other performers submitted
for her approval. Then Miss de Courcy Jones will not perform unless
she can choose her own place on the programme. The men, I must say,
generally behave better. Having promised their help in the good cause
of charity, they do not often worry one with petty tricks. Our proposed
play was a difficult one to cast. Those of my readers who have seen it
performed in England will remember that each of the three characters
requires a deal of sound, strong acting. I had helpers in plenty; for
amateur actors of a sort are not scarce in India; but they were not
the right kind. Strange it is that almost every amateur actor is a
low-comedy man! Our first rehearsal was altogether ridiculous. The man
who essayed the part of the dignified Prussian General, Von Rosenberg,
considered it the correct thing to sit in the presence of a lady with
his feet on a chair! I had arranged my drawing-room as a stage, and had
put each chair in its place, so, of course, could not allow the General
to upset everything. When I told him of it, he answered stiffly, “That
he wanted to make the part as natural as possible, and that men, when
taking their ease, _do_ sit in that position.” Knowing that a play
cannot succeed, if each actor is allowed to adopt what “business”
he pleases, I told him that Mr. John McLean had taught me his way of
playing the piece, and that I should prefer it done according to his
instructions. My General removed his feet from the chair with an angry
grunt. I discovered that he stammered on occasions of excitement, and
when he looked at me and commenced his first speech, saying, “You are
s-s-s-s-s-s--ad, Mademoiselle?” my other actor, who was to play the
part of Henri de la Fere, and who was listening behind a screen, burst
into such a fit of laughter that we were unable to proceed for some
time. On hearing this, the General got up from his chair and walked up
and down the stage in long strides, calling out to Henri to come and
play the part himself, if he could do it better. He cooled down after
a time and we were able to resume. When he came to the lines, “I am a
Prussian, Mademoiselle,” he emphasized the word “Prussian” by banging
his fist down on the table with so much violence, that I, who was
sitting on the opposite side following his speeches with the book, was
startled and dropped it. This provoked repeated roars of laughter from
Henri, which so incensed the General that he refused to say another
word. I did not press him to do so; for I saw that his acting would
not pass muster; so we partook of afternoon tea and passed things off
pleasantly with some music. When the amateurs had gone, I decided to
abandon my idea of a play and have a concert only, and to engage the
Calcutta Town Hall for the occasion.
I found I had many kind friends to help me in getting up my concert.
Besides the performers, who gladly offered their services free of all
charge, was Mr. George, a clever artist, who was at that time engaged
on an illustrated paper called _The Empress_, and who designed the
programmes for me; Messrs. Thacker, Spink and Co., who provided and
printed them free of charge; the Great Eastern Hotel Company, who
sent their workmen with flags and drapery to decorate the Town Hall;
and a number of other good people who all helped to make the evening
a success. The Volunteer band, under Herr Kuhlmey, played during the
interval, and also after the concert. Brother John and I had a hard
day’s work before us in arranging the stage and decorating it with
flowers and fairy lamps. He procured a quantity of evergreens, and
between us we managed to make the stage look very well. He had a large
model of a ship that had been made by the sailors, and of which he was
justly proud, arranged among the flags and flowers in the centre of
the stage where the audience could see and admire it to their heart’s
content. Brother John and my husband took the tickets and showed the
people into their seats. The concert was a success in every way. Mrs.
Bushby, a silver medalist, and one of the best pianists in India,
played the accompaniments. The soloists were Miss O’Brien, Miss Stuart,
Mrs. Turnbull, Mr. Eastly, Mr. Hartland, and Father Hopkins, all
well-known amateurs of Calcutta. I recited two pieces, and received
a very hearty greeting from the crowded audience when I went on the
stage. I thought that after all the hostilities we had encountered in
connection with this leper question, that I should have a small house;
but though none of the officials connected with the Leper Asylum or
their friends were present at our concert, so many other people came
that we had to provide more chairs to meet them all, and the Town Hall
was quite full. I plucked up courage on seeing this, and recited in my
very best style, gaining a hearty encore from my audience, who seemed
to be thoroughly pleased with what I did. Miss O’Brien was, of course,
the _prima donna_ of the evening, and all the other performers were
most successful with their songs.