CLEVELAND, O., Oct. 27, 1886.

Last evening I went to hear Mr. Edwin Booth in "Hamlet." I had read the
play before, but it was better as he gave it, I think.

The play of "Hamlet" is not catchy, and there is a noticeable lack of
local gags in it. A gentleman who stood up behind me and leaned against
his breath all the evening said that he thought Ophelia's singing was
too disconnected. He is a keen observer and has seen a great many plays.
He went out frequently between the acts, and always came back in better
spirits. He noticed that I wept a little in one or two places, and said
that if I thought that was affecting I ought to see "Only a Farmer's
Daughter." He drives a 'bus for the Hollenden Hotel here and has seen a
great deal of life. Still, he talked freely with me through the evening,
and told me what was coming next. He is a great admirer of the drama,
and night after night he may be seen in the foyer, accompanied only by
his breath.

There is considerable discussion among critics as to whether Hamlet was
really insane or not, but I think that he assumed it in order to throw
the prosecution off the track, for he was a very smart man, and when his
uncle tried to work off some of his Danish prevarications on him I
fully expected him to pull a card out of his pocket and present it to
his royal tallness, on which might be seen the legend:

I AM SOMETHING OF A LIAR MYSELF!

But I am glad he did not, for it would have seemed out of character in a
play like that.

Mr. Booth wore a dark, water-proof cloak all the evening and a sword
with which he frequently killed people. He was dressed in black
throughout, with hair of the same shade. He is using the same hair in
"Hamlet" that he did twenty years ago, though he uses less of it. He
wears black knickerbockers and long, black, crockless stockings.

Mr. Booth is doing well in the acting business, frequently getting as
high as $2 apiece for tickets to his performances. He was encored by the
audience several times last night, but refrained from repeating the
play, fearing that it would make it late for those who had to go back to
Belladonna, O., after the close of the entertainment.

Toward the end of the play a little rough on rats gets into the
elderberry wine and the royal family drink it, after which there is
considerable excitement, and a man with a good, reliable stomach-pump
would have all he could do. Several of the royal family curl up and
perish.