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66                              A FEW MEMORIES
sonating the withered gypsy was a lucky one, for many attributed my success to " youth, etc."
After bidding farewell to the St. Charles, whose stage had witnessed the triumphs of Rachel, the elder Booth, Julia Dean, Forrest, and Cushman, I began my fourth week of public life before a large house at The Varieties. I remember that engagement as one of the pleasantest of my life. The manageress, Mrs. Chanfrau, the handsome wife of " Kit, the Arkansas Traveller" (by-the-way, why do not women more generally manage theatres ?) made it one of the freshest, cleanest, and most comfortable places imaginable. She kept it as a good housewife keeps her home—immaculate. Welcoming all pleasantly, she seemed more like a charming hostess to those who acted under her than like the usual business manager. The week passed off very successfully. On Friday I donned the witch's rags for the first time. All my teeth were covered with black wax, except one, which in its natural whiteness produced a tusk-like effect. The hair concealed by gray, snaky locks, the complexion hidden beneath the wrinkles and brown, parchment-like skin of the weather-stained gypsy, the eyebrows covered with gray hair, the figure bent nearly double,