ural history to name; while vicious little street boys at
sight of it always put searching questions as to the cost of cat-skins in
London.

As they came down the street together, Mrs. Kean, majestically towering
above her lord and master, looked like an old-time frigate with every
inch of canvas spread, while at her side Charles puffed and fretted like
a small tug. The street boys were a continual torment to him, but Mrs.
Kean appeared serenely unconscious of their existence, even when her
husband made short rushes at them with his gold-headed cane, and crying:
"Go a-way--you irreverent little brutes--go a-way!" and then puffed
laboriously back to her again as she sailed calmly on.

One day a citizen caught one of the small savages, and after boxing his
ears soundly, pitched him into the alley-way, when the seemingly enraged
little Englishman said, deprecatingly: "I--I wouldn't hurt the little
beast--he--he hasn't anyone to teach him any better, you know--poor
little beggar!" and then he dropped behind for a moment to pitch a
handful of coppers into the alley before hurrying up to his wife's side
to boast of the jolly good drubbing the little monster had received--from
which I gathered the idea that in a rage Charles would be as fierce as
seething new milk.

Everyone who knew anything at all of this actor knew of his passionate
love and reverence for his great father. He used always to carry his
miniature in _Hamlet_, using it in the "Look here, upon this picture,
then on this," scene; but I knew nothing of all that when he first
arrived to play engagements both in Cleveland and Columbus, but being
very eager to see all I could of him, I came very early to the theatre,
and as I walked up and down behind the scenes I caught two or three times
a glint of something on the floor, which might have been a bit of tinsel;
but finally I went over to it, touched it with my foot, and then picked
up an oval gold case, with handsome frame enclosing a picture; a bit of
broken ribbon still hung from the ring on top of the frame. I ran with it
to the prompter, who knew nothing of it, but said there would soon be a
hue and cry for it from someone, as it was of value. "Perhaps you'd
better take it to Mr. Kean--it might be his." I hesitated, but the
prompter said he was busy and I was not, so I started toward the
dressing-room the Keans shared together, when suddenly the door was flung
open and Mr. Kean came out in evident excitement.