When they went away there was nobody engaged to follow them. The manager sped away to New York to secure talent, and never returned, leaving us to act if anybody would come to see us; but they didn't. Consequently, we were all anxious to be gone; and somehow the voyage was arranged for, and we embarked on a schooner. The company consisted of Edmon S. Conner, Thomas Hadaway, Mr. Isherwood, mother, myself, and a little half-sister, named Adine. We were wrecked on a sand-bar in Egg Harbor, West Indies, in the middle of a very stormy night. Up and dressed in a few minutes, watching and listening for the planks to give way, as nothing could be done in the way of rescue till morning. Little Adine was quite passive, only saying, "Mamma, if we all go in the water, will God give us breakfast?" Our rescue was somewhat perilous, as we went along the "bowsprit" with our feet on the rope below, and when we got to the end, dropped into the boat at the moment it came up on the waves; but we all got off and had a long walk in the deep sand to the first house we came to, and then after refreshments(!) it was arranged that we should proceed to New York in a "wood boat"—that was, a vessel without any bulwarks, and loaded with wood for building. Into this we were packed, and finally arrived in New York on a magnificent morning. Mother and I had an engagement with Mr. Hamblin at the new "Bowery." At this time I was of a very unhappy age (thirteen), not a child and certainly not a woman, so the chances were against my acting anything of importance. When "The Wife" was brought out I was cast for _Florabel_—a young person who enters with a soliloquy of about fifty lines in Sheridan Knowles's most inflated style, which they "cut out" bodily the second night of the play. There was "another check to proud ambition!" Then Mr. Gale and his horses arrived from England. "Mazeppa" was prepared, Mr. Farren, the stage manager, said at an expense of exactly $100, and they made thousands from it. Then, in consequence of a lady's illness, I got a little chamber-maid's part, with a front scene with Mr. Gates, the popular comedian, and sang a little song called "Nice Young Maiden" for forty-eight successive nights, and was very happy, for my song was always encored. Mother, being ambitious for me, accepted an engagement at "The Warren Theatre," Boston, managed by Mr. Pelby, the well-known actor and manager, where we jointly received a salary of $16 per week. I don't know how we lived; but mother was a splendid manager at that time, a marvellously industrious woman, and we all lived at "Ma" Lenthe's, at the corner of Bowdoin Square, a gable-end. We had a large room on the second story, a trundle-bed which went under the other, for the accommodation of little children, a large closet in which we kept a barrel of ale and all our dresses, and passed a very happy two seasons in the enjoyment of that large salary, which was eked out by the three clear half-benefits very nicely.