It is to be observed that the strolling profession had its divisions and grades.  The “boothers,” as they are termed, have to be viewed as almost a distinct class.  These carry their theatre, a booth, about with them, and only pretend to furnish very abridged presentments of the drama.  With them “Richard III.,” for instance, is but an entertainment of some twenty minutes’ duration.  They are only anxious to give as many performances as possible before fresh assemblies of spectators in as short a time as may be.  “Boothers” have been known to give even six distinct exhibitions on Saturday nights.  And they certainly resort to undignified expedients to lure their audiences.  They parade in their theatrical attire, dance quadrilles and hornpipes, fight with broadswords, and make speeches on the external platform of their booth.  Histrionic art is seen to little advantage under these conditions, although it should be said that many notable players have commenced the study of their profession among the “boothers.”  The travelling circus is again a distinct institution, its tumblers and riders only in a very distant and illegitimate way connected with even the humblest branches of the great Thespian family.

But strolling, in its old sense, is fast expiring.  Barns have ceased to be temples of the drama.  The railways carry the public to the established theatres; London stars and companies travelling in first-class carriages, with their secretary and manager, visit in turn the provincial towns, and attract all the playgoers of the neighbourhood.  The country manager, retaining but a few “utility people,” is well content to lend his stage to these dignified players, who stroll only nominally, without “padding the hoof,” or the least chance of hardship or privation attending their rustical wanderings.  Their travels are indeed more in the nature of royal progresses.  Even for the “boothers” times have changed.  Waste lands on which to “pitch” their playhouses are now hard to find; the “pleasure fairs,” once their chief source of profit, become more and more rare; indeed, there is a prevalent disposition nowadays to abolish altogether those old-fashioned celebrations.  And worse than all, perhaps, the audiences have become sophisticated and critical, and have not so much simple faith and hearty goodwill to place at the disposal of the itinerants.  Centralisation has now affected the stage.  The country is no longer the nursery and training-school of the player.  He commences his career in London, and then regales the provinces with an exhibition of his proficiency.  The strollers are now merged in the “stars.”  The apprentice has become the master, which may possibly account for the fact, that the work accomplished is not invariably of first-rate quality.

CHAPTER VII.

“PAY HERE.”