all the
distinguishing, though shallower, virtues of character. He had the
merit, too, of a proper appreciation of his own capacity; and his aims
never rose above that capacity. As a superficial man he dealt with
superficial things, and his dealings were marked by tact and shrewdness.
In his sphere he was proficient, and he kept his wits upon the alert for
everything that might be turned to professional and profitable use. Thus
it was that, as he sauntered along one of the main thoroughfares of
Cincinnati, as has been written, his attention was suddenly arrested by
a voice ringing clear and full above the noises of the street, and
giving utterance, in an unmistakable dialect, to the refrain of a song
to this effect:--

"Turn about an' wheel about do jis so,
An' ebery time I run about I jump Jim Crow."

Struck by the peculiarities of the performance, so unique in style,
matter, and "character" of delivery, the player listened on. Were not
these elements--was the suggestion of the instant--which might admit of
higher than mere street or stable-yard development? As a national or
"race" illustration, behind the footlights, might not "Jim Crow" and a
black face tickle the fancy of pit and circle, as well as the "Sprig of
Shillalah" and a red nose? Out of the suggestion leaped the
determination; and so it chanced that the casual hearing of a song
trolled by a negro stage-driver, lolling lazily on the box of his
vehicle, gave origin to a school of music destined to excel in
popularity all others, and to make the name of the obscure actor, W. D.
RICE, famous.

As his engagement at Cincinnati had nearly expired, Rice deemed it
expedient to postpone a public venture in the newly projected line until
the opening of a fresh engagement should assure him opportunity to share
fairly the benefit expected to grow out of the experiment. This
engagement had already been entered into; and accordingly, shortly
after, in the autumn of 1830, he left Cincinnati for Pittsburg.

The old theatre of Pittsburg occupied the site of the present one, on
Fifth Street. It was an unpretending structure, rudely built of boards,
and of moderate proportions, but sufficient, nevertheless, to satisfy
the taste and secure the comfort of the few who dared to face
consequences and lend patronage to an establishment under the ban of the
Scotch-Irish Calvinists. Entering upon duty at the "Old Drury" of the
"Birmingham of America," Rice prepared to ta