A few memories

220 A FEW MEMORIES
habitants of that dear little town. Everybody, from the governor down, came to join in the touchingly warm welcome to their townswoman—" Sacramento's Daughter," as they were pleased to call me. Some very poor people came by the dais for a handshake, among them several barefooted children. Pioneers, "forty-niners," representatives from all the different classes in the city were present, and made a very interesting and characteristic crowd. I shall never forget the heartiness of that reception, or the feeling almost of kinship I had for every one who, like myself, had been born in that beautiful valley.
I naturally expected another ovation that night at the theatre; but on coming down from Galatea's pedestal I also descended from my great expectations. The house was hardly half full, and I do not remember a hand of applause during the entire performance. I learned that the local press declared "that most of Sacramento's amateurs could have played Galatea with far more effect." I acted there only one night; and though my townspeople did not care for the artist, the woman will never forget the heartiness of their welcome to her.
At San Francisco, where we next appeared, crowded houses and praise on all sides greeted