254 A FEW MEMORIES
acted for my companions every play seen at t Saturday matinees, instead of eating my lun< looking just as cool and inviting as it did th< My little desk, the dunce-stool, everything seem to have a friendly greeting for me. Mother Ei: lia was still the superioress, and in looking it her kind face and finding so little change there seemed that the vortex I had lived in since the early years was but a restless dream, and thai must be a little child again under her gentle ca No one was changed but myself. I seemed have lived a hundred years since leaving the < places and kindly faces, and to have suddenly co back again into their midst (unlike Rip "V Winkle) to find them as I had left them.
Many episodes, memorable to me, occurred Louisville. Not the least pleasant was Fat Boucher's acknowledgment (after disapproving my profession for years) that my private life 1 not fallen under the evils which, at the beginni he feared to be inevitable from contact with theatre. Father Boucher was a dear old Fren man, who had known and instructed me in matt religious since my childhood. My respect and fection for him had always been deep. When condemned my resolution to go upon the st;I found the itticed summer-house (where, as a child, I had re- run of " Hamlet." InLIN. Mr. FULLER MELLISH.