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<p>[QUOTE="silverthwait, post: 18062, member: 103"]Oh, Af! That you have seen an actual lamplighter!</p><p><br /></p><p>When I was very small, my mother read all the English children's stories and poems. "I Have a Little Shadow" was the first thing I ever memorised. I loved the one about the counterpane, as I had a similar one. But "Leary the Lamplighter," much as I loved it too, always made me feel quite melancholy. </p><p><br /></p><p>A number of years ago, I spent a couple of days in Edinburgh. I took the bus tour of the city, getting off and on, according to whatever I wanted to see more of. The guides doing the informative patter were all kinds of different! The last one I listened to was (very obviously) an actor. (Resting, as they say) He had a good voice, and intelligent commentary, so I was listening carefully.</p><p><br /></p><p>He knew me for a sucker instantly. As we approached Stevenson's house, he recited some of the Lamplighter...and I burst into tears. I had been going in to see it...but I couldn't. I cried til I was absolutely drowned -- and felt a right fool!</p><p><br /></p><p>My mother's antidote had always been to follow Stevenson with Milne's Changing of the Guard, or James, James, Morrison, Morrison, which always bucked me up considerably. But no one in Scotland seemed to know about this.</p><p><br /></p><p>Never did go in. Tried the next day. Different bus commentator.. Still couldn't. </p><p><br /></p><p>The only good thing about this experience was that I knew I had Absolutely made that actor's day!![/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>
[QUOTE="silverthwait, post: 18062, member: 103"]Oh, Af! That you have seen an actual lamplighter! When I was very small, my mother read all the English children's stories and poems. "I Have a Little Shadow" was the first thing I ever memorised. I loved the one about the counterpane, as I had a similar one. But "Leary the Lamplighter," much as I loved it too, always made me feel quite melancholy. A number of years ago, I spent a couple of days in Edinburgh. I took the bus tour of the city, getting off and on, according to whatever I wanted to see more of. The guides doing the informative patter were all kinds of different! The last one I listened to was (very obviously) an actor. (Resting, as they say) He had a good voice, and intelligent commentary, so I was listening carefully. He knew me for a sucker instantly. As we approached Stevenson's house, he recited some of the Lamplighter...and I burst into tears. I had been going in to see it...but I couldn't. I cried til I was absolutely drowned -- and felt a right fool! My mother's antidote had always been to follow Stevenson with Milne's Changing of the Guard, or James, James, Morrison, Morrison, which always bucked me up considerably. But no one in Scotland seemed to know about this. Never did go in. Tried the next day. Different bus commentator.. Still couldn't. The only good thing about this experience was that I knew I had Absolutely made that actor's day!![/QUOTE]
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