But all I have to do with the gruesome "Atar-Gull" is to make brief note of the part in it that Ellen Terry was called upon to play. It was that of a fair young girl named Clementine who (not unnaturally) has an aversion to the snakes that infest her environment. In order to cure her of this reprehensible prejudice, it occurs to some idiot (possibly an interfering aunt) to order a dead snake to be put in her room. This is an opportunity for the revengeful negro, and he contrives to give her a live and deadly reptile for her companion. With the living venomous creature coiled about her neck and body, and ever tightening its scaly, slimy hug, the terrified girl appears screaming on the stage. Into this horrible situation, and the opportunity it afforded her, the still childish Ellen Terry put her whole heart, and outscreamed all actresses, whether young or old. It was not one prolonged scream and then collapse. As her terror and agony seemed to increase, shriek succeeded shriek--a shriek for deliverance--a shriek of bodily anguish--and a shriek of hopeless despair. No doubt the effect was startling, and unquestionably it thrilled her audiences. It was all wonderfully done, and the fear of the wretched girl was depicted with almost painful fidelity. But the ridiculous, misplaced, and sensational play made the situation an absurd one. If it were repeated to-day we should think of the nonsense rhyme-- "There was a young lady of Russia, Who screamed so, that no one could hush her." As it was, it made many people laugh; but on the critics, who could "read between the lines," it left its impression, and gave hope of wondrous things to come. Happily, most of them lived to see them come. It was all a question of training. According to Ellen Terry's own account, Madame Albina de Rhona must have been a very difficult lady to work under, and yet her warm heart prompts her to speak to-day in affectionate terms of her second manageress. In the case of this gifted child the quality of mercy was never strained. Her tasks had to be endured, but she schooled herself to enjoy them, and she tried to love those with whom she worked. CHAPTER III THE BRISTOL STOCK COMPANY The engagement at the Royalty was only a stopgap, and at its termination the wise Mr. Ben Terry took his daughter "to school," in one of the famous stock companies that then most happily existed in all the large provincial towns. They were indeed "schools"--schools of a very practical order--and in them most of the leading actors of our generation graduated.