no man or woman would sully their minds. We have
heard it said that the stage-children who return to
school after their spell of pantomime corrupt the
others. This is a gross and stupid falsehood
which is calculated to injure a cause that has many
good points. I earnestly sympathise with the well-meaning
people who desire to succour the little ones; but
I beseech them not to be led away by misstatements
which are concocted for sensational purposes.
So far from corrupting other children, the young actors
invariably act as a good influence in a school.
The experienced observer can almost make certain of
picking out the boys and girls who have had a stage-training.
They like to be smart and cleanly, their deportment
and general manners are improved, and they are almost
invariably superior in intelligence to the ordinary
school-trained child. Imagine Mme. Katti
Lanner having a corrupt influence! Imagine those
delightful beings who play “Alice in Wonderland”
corrupting anybody or anything! I have always
been struck by the pretty manners of the trained children—and
the advance in refinement is especially noticeable
among those who have been speaking or singing parts.
The most pleasing set of youths that I ever met were
the members of a comic-opera troupe. Some of
them, without an approach to freedom of manner, would
converse with good sense on many topics, and their
drill had been so extended as to include a knowledge
of polite salutes. Not one of the boys or girls
would have been ill at ease in a drawing-room; and
I found their educational standard quite up to that
of any Board school known to me. These nice little
folk were certainly in no wise pallid or distraught;
and, when they danced on the stage, the performance
was a beautiful and delightful romp which suggested
no idea of pain. To see the “prima donna”
of the company trundling her hoop on a bright morning
was as pretty a sight as one would care to see.
The little lady was neither forward nor unhealthy,
nor anything else that is objectionable—and
it was plain that she enjoyed her life. Is it
in the least likely that any sane manager would ill-treat
a little child that was required to be pleasing?
One or two acrobats have been known to be stern with
their apprentices; but the rudest circus-man would
not venture to exhibit a pupil who looked unhappy.
The rascally “Arabs” who entrapped so
many boys in years gone by were fiends who met with
very appropriate retribution; but such villains are
not common.
I am always haunted by the argument about late hours—and give it every weight. As aforesaid, I used sometimes to wish that some wee creature could only be wrapped in a night-gown and sent to rest. But, for the benefit of those who cannot well imagine what the horrors of a city slum are like, let me describe the nightly scene in a typical city alley. It is cold in the pantomime season; but the folk in that alley have not much fire. Joe, the costermonger, Bill, the