Instrumental music next turned my head, or, more definitely-a violin. I bought a fiddle on my own account. Of course my father saw the instrument; if I could keep it out of his sight I could not very well keep it out of his hearing. Then, besides, little boys should not be deceptive. He says: "What are you going to do with that?" I says: "I'm going to learn to play it." Then he asked me where I had bought it, and I told him like a dutiful son-"Tom Carrodus's in Church Green." He summoned my mother and asked: "Mally, what dos'ta think o' this lot?" She-good woman-said it was only another antic of her boy's, and "let him have his own way." But my father, on the contrary, got rather nasty about the matter, remarking that if I didn't take the thing away he would put it into the fire. He said he was sure it would only turn out a public house "touch," and informed me that it was only one in a thousand who ever got to be anything worth listening to. He endeavoured to impress upon me what a nuisance the old fiddler was on the Fair Day; and "concluded a vigorous speech" by again reminding me that if I didn't take the fiddle out of his _sight_ he would burn it. He did give me the chance to play out of his sight; but, knowing, young as I was, that the unexpected sometimes happens, I decided to get rid of "the thing," as my father was pleased to call it. Fiddle and I parted company the very day after we came to know each other.

THE "n.i.g.g.e.r" BUSINESS

next fascinated me; and I induced several lads and la.s.ses in the village to form a "troupe." We got up a show-not a very showy show, but a nice little show-and charged a reasonable sum for admission-only a half-penny!

The "company" managed, by working together, to possess itself of a creditable wardrobe. But the "Fell-lane n.i.g.g.e.r Troupe" did not live long.

I, for example, began to soar a little higher, that is to the dramatic stage; but my father evidenced the same bad grace as he did in regard to my fiddle.

A STROLLING, ROLLICKING PLAYER

I had somehow or other sc.r.a.ped together close upon a couple of hundred reprints of plays, which cost me from 6d to 2s a-piece. He said he would have no acting in his house. I pleaded it was only a bit of pastime; but it was all in vain, and what was more he threw all my books on the fire.

This greatly disheartened me-I should be about 14 years old at this period;-but though my father burned my play-books he did not quell my ardent ambition to go on the stage. A few days after, a theatrical man, called Tyre, visited Keighley. (Oh! how I have blessed that man!) He advertised for some amateur performers to play in a temperance drama of the t.i.tle "The seven stages of a drunkard," at the old Mechanics' Hall (until recently the Temperance Hall). The piece was to be played nightly for a fortnight. I mentioned to my father that I should very much like to take part in the performance. He asked the advice of somebody or other as to the character of the play, and being informed that it was a temperance piece, he consented to my serving a fortnight with the company. I applied, and was gladly accepted. The part of a boy-a boy who, in manhood, was a drunkard-was allotted to me. The company played for a fortnight before crowded houses. But my stage career was not destined to end there. Tyre, seeing that the Keighley public appreciated the efforts of his local talent, arranged for the performance of another piece, styled "Ambrose Guinnett." He asked me to take a part in that piece also, and I agreed on the spot to do so. I was put in as a sailor, and I purchased in the Market-place a sailor's suit and a black wig, on "tick"-you see I was determined to have them. By-and-bye, it reached the ears of my father that I was going "reight in for t'business." However, the day fixed for the first performance came round, and then the performance commenced.

TRICKING POLICEMAN LEACH

The curtain had risen and all was going on nicely when on the stage, behind the wings, appeared a policeman-a real policeman-a policeman to the heart, into the bargain! "Robert" turned out to be n.o.body else than my old friend, Mr James Leach, now of Balmoral House, The Esplanade, Keighley: this, I ought to mention, was my first meeting with Mr Leach.

My father it seemed, had heard definitely that I should be acting that night, and so he had induced Police-constable Leach (No. 5678, X division, A.1.), to look after me. Well, as I said before, P.C. Leach came on the stage. I happened to be the first soul he encountered. Says he to me: "Have you got a young man here called William Wright?" [I saw he did not "ken" me.] Says I to him: "I have not." Says he to me: "I want that lad, wherever he is; his father has sent me for him, and if he won't go home I have to take him to the lock-up." The last word rather frightened me; but I managed to say to him: "To save you a deal of trouble, sir, young Wright isn't going to play in this piece at all,"

and, with that, directed him down the staircase. I was allowed to go on with my acting without interruption after that; but I hadn't to go on the stage another night. My parents then put their heads together to keep me out of mischief.

MILL LIFE AND POETRY

I was packed off to Lund's Mill-the late Mr William Lund was at the head of the firm at the time, and Benjamin Lamb and I became favourites with him. Mr Lund often used to take us into the staircase at the mill, provide us with chalk, and tell us to draw animals or anything we liked.

He would offer a prize for the best production. We had also to try our hands at "making" poetry, and for this Mr Lund would give rewards. Ben could generally "best" me at drawing, but I managed to get the poetry prizes all right. One day Ben signed teetotal, and I remember I wrote a few lines of doggerel on the occasion. It is rather uncouth, but here it is:-

Benjamin signed teetotal He signed from drink and liquors; And it gave him such an appet.i.te Begum he swallow'd pickers.

MAKING AND SAILING SHIPS

Ben and I also took a fancy to making various models, especially ships.

Mr Lund caught us at the job, and, taking an interest in our work, he offered a prize for the one of us who made the best-sailing three-rigged vessel. We made our ships and gaily decorated them. The day fixed for the trial was regarded with keen interest by the mill-hands. The trial trip was to take place in the mill dam, and the banks of the dam were crowded with workpeople. The conditions were that we should sail the ships, with the aid of a warp thread, from the head to the foot of the dam. And the contest began. Ben's ship had scarcely been launched when it upset, being side-heavy. But my ship sailed gallantly before the breeze, right on to the finishing post. The spectators cheered l.u.s.tily; I felt very proud, I did. I got the prize, and was made quite a "hero" of for a few days. But they little knew the grand secret of my success. I had driven a spindle into the keel, so as to allow it to protrude downwards into the water; with this in it, it was almost impossible for the ship to upset!

CHAPTER III

TO THE STAGE AGAIN

Notwithstanding the kindness which I received at the mill, I could not settle down. I had a strong inclination to get out into the world and see something. My ambition again returned to the stage. I began to visit travelling theatres which came to Keighley, staying in Townfield Gate. I joined an amateur dramatic society, composed of Keighley people. The names of the members were:-Arthur Bland, John Spencer, William Binns, Mark Tetley, Thomas Smith, Thomas Kay-all of whom, I believe are dead-and Joshua Robinson, James Lister, Sam Moore and myself. There were also a number of females, who must be all dead by this time. We had weekly Sat.u.r.day night performances in an old barn in Queen-street, which is now used as a warehouse by Messrs W. Layc.o.c.k & Sons, curriers. After a short course of training in the society, Arthur Bland, John Spencer, and myself became rather-ambitious I suppose I shall have to call it-and joined the profession altogether. I should be about sixteen years old; and I was about the youngest member in the company. My companions and I joined Wild's Travelling Dramatic company. I was called the "juvenile," owing to the fact that I was the youngest member of the company. We fulfilled engagements at Bradford, Halifax, Dewsbury, Keighley, and other towns in the district. I considered (myself) that I made a "rare fist" at acting, but the advice was unsympathisingly hurled at me-"Come home to your parents and start afresh." Well, I took the advice, and went home to my parents. I often think it was very good of them to allow their errant son to come home as often as they did. I returned to my position as a warpdresser at Lund's mill, being about eighteen years old at the time.

Things went on very peaceably and agreeably for another little while, but I-just verging on the age of manhood-again felt a strong desire to go out into the world.

OH! FOR A SAILOR'S LIFE!

I had been reading a book about the life of a sailor-how nice it is to _read_ about a sailor's life!-and got the idea that I should like to be a sailor. So, one morning I got up betimes, when lazy people were snoring between the blankets. I clad myself in my best suit-one of splendid black, put on my watch, provided myself with plenty of money-my parents were not badly off-and started in search of a sailor's life. It didn't look like a very good beginning, did it? I tramped to Leeds, and there I had the-misfortune, I may safely say, to fall in with some of my thespian friends. They very willingly helped me to spend my money, so that when I left Leeds I had scarcely a penny in my pocket. But it was, perhaps, all for the best, as things turned. I walked to Goole, and from there to Hull. I lingered about the docks for some time, and then I fell in with the skipper of a vessel who was looking out for an addition to his crew.

He asked me who I was. I, of course, told him and said I should like to be a sailor. He smiled when I said that, and said I looked more like a tailor than a sailor. But, then, I have said all along that appearances are deceptive, and that it isn't always wise to rely on the label of the bag. It was simply a matter of taste with the skipper: he saw in me a nice chance of a suit of good clothes, &c., if nothing else. He questioned me: "would you run away if I took you on? You know some of you get tired of the first voyage." I a.s.sured him that _I_ wouldn't run away, what other boys did. Whereupon it came to pa.s.s that he said that I was a likely young fellow, and I was engaged-I mean to the skipper, of course.

I had to say a fond "Good-bye!" to my suit of black, watch, and other articles, and bedeck myself in a canvas suit, with red shirt, belt, and oil-skin cap. The name of the vessel was "The Greyhound," and "The Greyhound" was laden with prepared stone and bound from Hull to London.

We started. The voyage was a very rough one, and I was very, very sick the first day. I often think of my first day's sailoring; I do that, I do. I was put to all manner of drudgery, such as scrubbing the decks. The cooking for the crew also fell into my hands; there were about a dozen of us. Fortunately, I had no need to complain of the lack of food. There was plenty of salt pork and biscuits; but, then, biscuits and salt pork and salt pork and biscuits have a tendency to become a little monotonous to the palate. I got very roughly handled by the crew. The voyage to London occupied about six days. We stayed at the English capital about a fortnight, in order to exchange our cargo for one of goods suitable for the Hull trade. Even while we were moored in the Thames, I was very anxious to make my escape, but a too close watch was kept over me. We started on the home journey, during which I was not affected by sea sickness.

LONGING FOR HOME AGAIN

I determined that as soon as ever I got into Hull I would make straight for Keighley. Many a time on the vessel did I think of Mrs Hemans's beautiful poem "There's no place like home." I shall never forget, I think, the feelings of ecstacy with which I was seized on the vessel sailing into the port of Hull. It was four o' clock on a cold, dreary December afternoon, and I could not help but cry as, going on the quay, I heard an organ grinder giving off the strains "Home, Sweet Home!"

Of all the spots on earth to me Is Home, Sweet Home.

And that dear spot I long to see- My Home, Sweet Home.

Where joyfully relations meet, Where neighbours do each other greet.

If ought on earth there can be sweet, 'Tis Home, Sweet Home.

It seemed to me as if my father and mother were calling their prodigal son home. I straightened myself up, and says: "Here goes for Keighley, without a ha'penny in my pocket:" the skipper was not by any means kind-hearted, and did not give me even an "honorarium." But my troubles were not by any means past and gone: many who read these lines will, I trow, know what it is to tramp a long distance with a purse, as Carlyle said, "so flabby that it could scarcely be thrown against the wind." My trudge from Hull to Bradford seemed beset with th.o.r.n.y places.

TRAMPING AND ADVENTURING

Leaving Hull, I walked all night in stormy, winterly weather, and before morning I was on the near bank of Howden d.y.k.e. There was a ferry at the d.y.k.e, and, not having the wherewithal to pay the toll, I had to stay where I was-about three miles from Goole. As I afterwards learned, I had gone about eight miles out of the right road. I loitered about for a short time. Then a farmer, with a horse and cart, chanced to come along.

I unfolded my tale to him, and he took pity on me; he said he was allowed to take a man with his horse and cart, besides himself, and I could go over as _the_ man. And in this way I crossed over on the ferry, which was a sort of raft. When I got into Howden-it was now early morning-it turned out to be the Fair Day. So I wended my way into the fair-ground, thinking that possibly I might meet with some of my former theatrical acquaintances at some of the shows. But I was a doomed man: there were none. There was any number of wild beast shows, fat women shows, art galleries, pea saloons, with the ubiquitous Aunt Sarah, but of "mumming"

shows there were none. When I was in this low pitch of despondency, a flashly-clad individual walked up to me and asked me _what_ I was. Being a truthful sort of a lad, if nothing else, I told him I was "all sorts,"

but had been doing a "bit o' sailoring" last. He said he kept a boxing show, and asked if I had done anything in the n.o.ble defence line. I had to confess that I had done a little at home, with towels round my hands.

"Oh (says he) I'll teach you how to box in twenty minutes. I'll introduce you to the public, and if there is any big farmer to tackle _I'll_ tackle him; and I have got a little black man who will stand up for you. I want a man to p'rade outside the show, you know, and you look a likely fellow." After this magnificent speech, how could I but take the job? I did so. Seeing that I had not been over-fed lately, he treated me to a loaf and coffee: that these were welcome I need hardly chronicle; they were decidedly welcome. After a good night's sleep, the next day I was dressed for the occasion. The fair-ground was thronged with people from far and near. A big crowd collected in front of _our_ show. I p'raded on the platform outside the show, and the proprietor announced that I was a champion boxer, and that I would "set to" with any man in the whole fair!

Some men would have felt honoured at this, but I didn't. The announcement fairly made me tremble, and I should have been very thankful to drop through the boards. But I had to stay where I was. Fortunately n.o.body came forward, and the only "set to" I had to have was with the little black man. The show commenced, and we went inside; of course we had only exhibition games. One night produced 7s 6d for me. But I had no more sense than spend my money on a number of showmen who had gathered together, as was their wont, in a drinking-saloon on the fair-ground after the night's business. Therefore I was as bad as before. I left the show, and began my walk to Selby. There were two toll bars on the way, at which pa.s.sengers had each a penny to pay to get through. But I hadn't a penny and at the first "break" the keeper asked me if I had got a "knife or owt." I couldn't boast the possession of either of these. A cotton-hawker chanced to come by and he took pity on me and paid my toll.

He reminded me there was another toll-bar about 7 miles further on, and said he was sorry he could not go forward with me, because he had some calls to make by the way. Notwithstanding, I trudged on, and when I got to the second "break" Fortune again smiled upon me; for I came upon a kind-hearted lady, who, when she became acquainted with my position, gave me a sixpence. This coin got me to Selby. From Selby I made to York. Late in the afternoon it began to rain heavily; so I called at a roadside inn for shelter. In the inn I found seated a company of hunting gentlemen, wearing their bright apparel. They had evidently been driven inside by the wet weather. One of them espied me and conducted me into the room.

They chaffed me very much, and one asked me whether I would have a gla.s.s of brandy or sixpence. I said I should prefer the sixpence. He said: "Well, if you had said the brandy, I should have given you neither; now you shall have both." And it so happened that I got two things with one asking. Well, after the shower had ceased I resumed my journey, and tramped all night. I wanted, and still I did not want, to get home-you understand me? Next morning I got into York. I had hoped to find a travelling theatre staying there, but the theatre had the day previously moved on to Ripon. Then did I determine to try my hand at earning an honest penny somehow. I had done a little at chalk-drawing. I thought I might become a street artist; so I accordingly got on to the city wall at the top of a flight of steps near the Castle. On the pavement, in chalk and charcoal, I drew bold likenesses of our good lady the Queen and Prince Albert. I sat there on the wall, waiting for pa.s.sers-by to throw me a copper. I had not waited long when a party of ladies and gentlemen-apparently visitors, like your humble servant-came up. They surveyed my production; then one of the gentlemen threw me a shilling, and the rest made a collection which they presented to me, and for which I thanked them from the bottom of my heart. I did not wait for a second batch of patrons, but straightway turned my back upon York. I had abandoned the idea I at one time entertained of going to Ripon, with the intention of joining the theatrical company there; and the next move was to get to Bradford. So I walked on to Bradford. I was "fairly jiggered up" when I got to that town-one Thursday afternoon I recollect it was. I made up my mind to go to the office of the Keighley firm of Messrs William Lund & Son, for whom I had done a little work. I was scarcely in a presentable condition, travel-stained as I was. After some demur I obtained permission to wash and "tidy" myself at a tavern, and this carried out, I made for Messrs Lunds' office.