Now, my darling, for the first time I consider that I’ve got a holdiday. And the first thing I do with it is to write to my sweetheart. Isn’t that praiseworthy?

To-day’s rehearsal went along pretty satisfactorily; but I notice that when an actorsⒶemendation begins with getting a word or an emphasis wrong, you’ll wear your soul out before you get him corrected. Now at the first rehearsal, these things occurred, to-wit:

Mrs. Plunkett—Little did I think, when I shied the skittle at his head—&c

I—Skillet, madam, skillet, please!

Mr. Plunkett—We s timbered her up, & then stoped stopped her up out—&c

I—StOped, please!

Mrs. Plunkett—It was preforeordestinated beforehandⒶemendation.

I—Take that emphasis away from there & put it on the second syllable of the last word—beforehandⒶemendation!

Mrs. Plunkett—This most momentuous occasion—

I—Momentary, madam!

And so forth & so on. Every day I have made the same old corrections., over & ov Mrs. Plunkett is the worst old fool I ever saw, except the Mrs. Plunkett in Baltimore—both are fine actresses, with high reputations. They are ignorance gone to seed. Still I have only lost my temper two or three times.

I think we have got a fine cast. Mr. Fawcett was to have played Ferguson, a miner, but we have got old Davidge, a man much better known. The “second miner” (Boston,) is taken by Vining Bowers, who has a large reputation—I thought he was one of the great men of the earth when I was a boy. The “third miner” (the vVigilantè judge), is going to play his part deliciously. Our Miss Tempest is very pretty, exceedingly ladylikeⒶemendation & refined, & has nothing in the least stagey or unnatural about her. Mrs. Tempest is a very fine, large, handsome woman of 50, with a pleasant voice & way, & no stage-frills or fo offensivenesses. Mrs. Plunkett is as much as 55, & is going to play her part well. Miss Plunkett must have been created for her part. She is a perfectly honest, kindly, sincere, coarse, vulgar, low-born English wench, large, nobly built, with a beautiful fair face, fair complexion, & an opulence of golden tresses.

The villain of the piece is a tragedian, & is a little stagy. He is the only stagey one in the lot. Mr.Ⓐemendation York is young, handsome, frank, open, & manifestly a gentleman. He is to play the part of a gentleman, too; for Mr. York has been through my mill & is no longer the snob Mr. he was when he left Mr. Harte’s pen. Our Judge Tempest withⒶemendation be all that could be desired.

Mr. Harte will pay me $50 a day for my work here, or I will know the reason why——that is, if the play succeeds.

I have written my speech for the opening night. It is very short—& nothing in it. But there’s really nothing to say. I’ve got a ne new swallow-tailⒶemendation, but I know I could not endure it in that sweltering theatre. I shall wear white linen. You see, if I wear a swallow-tail it is plain I expected to be called out, maybe wanted to be. My! but the laundry here does make my white linen lovely! The driven snow doesn’t begin with it.

Dear old Joe, I must write him.—regars Liberty, my darling, I am very much obliged to you for marrying me, & I love you, love you, love you!