There was an instant of surprised silence, in which every one recognized the exquisite fitness of the quotation, and then a roar of laughter--another and another! Many beers were thrust upon the Scotch stonecutter, who knew his Shakespeare so well--and--and--oh! poor MacIlhenny! Straightway he neglected his work; he loitered too long at his nooning. He could not tear himself away from the actors, who listened to his quotations and laughed at his antics, as children might laugh at the capers of a monkey. But MacIlhenny left them with a wild gleam in his poor, crossed eyes, with jumping, twitching muscles about his thin lips, fairly drunk with excitement.
It was on one of these occasions that he saw his landlord ahead of him in the public street--a rotund, little person who seemed to have had one story left off when he was built. He knew it, too, and tried, with piled up dignity and high silk hat, to make up the missing height. And it was to this dignified, black-croated, slow-moving, old gentleman that MacIlhenny roared: “Turn, hell-hound, turn! Turn, I say! I want to hand you me month’s rent and save a trip to your house to-morrow!”
That was one of his out of season quotations, for the dignified old party was no hell-hound, but MacIlhenny had just been discussing Macbeth, and showing how poorly Mr. Booth understood that character, admitting that the “laddie did his best, and meant well, still he (MacIlhenny) was the one man living who had got _inside_ the part”!
Well along in the season, one of the actors was to take a benefit, and as he was not much of a favorite with the public, he was greatly worried about arranging an attractive “bill.” Perhaps I should say that when one takes “a benefit” the fact is announced on the theatre’s bills. The “beneficiary” has the privilege of selecting the play for that special performance, and on that one night, he or she receives one-half, or one-third of the gross receipts of the house, by which he is benefited (perhaps), hence the term, “To take a benefit!”
A couple of weeks before, at the “leading” man’s benefit, there had been several volunteers, among them the manager’s young daughter, who sang for him, and in MacIlhenny’s presence, the worried actor was mourning because there was no one to volunteer to assist him, when up rose Sandy MacIlhenny and offered _his_ services. Those who were farthest away writhed in quiet laughter, while those who were near him suffered silently. In that silence the stonecutter read dread of a rival, and he hastened to dispel all anxiety by saying, soothingly: “Don’t misunderstand me, young man! You have nothing to fear! I do not ask to play a ‘part’ in your play--since the public could then have neither eye nor ear for any man but me--and I’d not extinguish anyone’s light on his benefit--but I’ll do a recitation or a reading-like, for you--so ‘Put money in thy purse, Cassio,’ and not injure your standing as an actor!”