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162                            A   FEW   MEMORIES
alarming; but when I saw the squad of policemen—hired nightly to keep clear a passageway from the theatre door to the carriage—running along with the throng, I could not refrain from laughing. However, the sounds from above were growing more and more ominous, and, throwing aside all shyness, I cried out at the top of my voice, " Please be careful! I fear the roof of the carriage is breaking in." A deep and reassuring voice from above answered, " It's all roight, Miss Anderson; you're in the hands of the Oirish mob, and they'll protict yer with thimsilves." Some of the Dublin students who were in the crowd assured us there was no cause for alarm, and we continued our journey through the streets in a calmer state of mind.
At the theatre the people were as wilful as enthusiastic. I have always thought it an inartistic interruption to take a " call" during the progress of a scene, and refused on one occasion to respond to the clamor. This was before I knew that public's arbitrary ways. Three times the entire scene was repeated by my colleagues without a word being heard, so vociferous were the calls for my return. Finding that they refused to allow the play to go on, I was compelled to put my pride in