At Sadler's Wells he became a favourite almost as speedily as at Drury Lane. King, the comedian,[6] who was principal proprietor of the former theatre and acting manager of the latter, took a great deal of notice of him, and occasionally gave the child a guinea to buy a rocking-horse or a cart, or some toy that struck his fancy. During the run of the first piece in which he played at Sadler's Wells, he produced his first serious effect, which, but for the good fortune which seems to have attended him in such cases, might have prevented his subsequent appearance on any stage. He played a monkey, and had to accompany the clown (his father) throughout the piece. In one of the scenes, the clown used to lead him on by a chain attached to his waist, and with this chain he would swing him round and round, at arm's length, with the utmost velocity. One evening, when this feat was in the act of performance, the chain broke, and he was hurled a considerable distance into the pit, fortunately without sustaining the slightest injury; for he was flung by a miracle into the very arms of an old gentleman who was sitting gazing at the stage with intense interest. Among the many persons who in this early stage of his career behaved with great kindness to him, were the famous rope-dancers, Mr. and Mrs. Redigé, then called Le Petit Diable,[7] and La Belle Espagnole; who often gave him a guinea to buy some childish luxury, which his father invariably took away and deposited in a box, with his name written outside, which he would lock very carefully, and then, giving the boy the key, say, "Mind, Joe, ven I die, dat is your vortune." Eventually he lost both the box and the fortune, as will hereafter appear. As he had now nearly four months vacant out of every twelve, the run of the Christmas pantomime at Drury Lane seldom exceeding a month, and Sadler's Wells not opening until Easter, he was sent for that period of the year to a boarding-school at Putney, kept by a Mr. Ford, of whose kindness and goodness of heart to him on a later occasion of his life, he spoke, when an old man, with the deepest gratitude. He fell in here with many schoolfellows who afterwards became connected one way or another with dramatic pursuits, among whom was Mr. Henry Harris, of Covent Garden Theatre. We do not find that any of these schoolfellows afterwards became pantomime actors; but recollecting the humour and vivacity of the boy, the wonder to us is, that they were not all clowns when they grew up. In the Christmas of 1782, he appeared in his second character[8] at Drury Lane, called "Harlequin Junior; or, the Magic Cestus," in which he represented a demon, sent by some opposing magician to counteract the power of the harlequin. In this, as in his preceding part, he was fortunate enough to meet with great applause; and from this period his reputation was made, although it naturally increased with his years, strength, and improvement.