A Sportsman 51 



IN California, short as my stay was, I made some 

 friends with whom for many years afterwards I 

 sustained pleasant relations, all of whom have now 

 passed away. It was in San Francisco I met Edwin 

 Booth, at the rooms of a fencing master, where we 

 were both receiving instructions, and formed a friend- 

 ship with him which continued through his life. His 

 father, Junius Brutus Booth, then near sixty years 

 of age, was playing the last engagement of his life at 

 the American theatre, and died that year, soon after, 

 on a Mississippi River steamer. Edwin at that time 

 had not appeared on the stage, excepting in a few 

 minor parts, and I accompanied him at his invitation 

 several times to witness the performances of his father. 

 The latter was then exhibiting the peculiarities of his 

 disposition, bordering on insanity, and accentuated 

 by his over-indulgence in spirituous liquors. One night 

 while playing Richard III. with his accustomed energy 

 and fire, he left the stage and strode into a lower box 

 adjoining, which was empty, and commenced singing 

 a bacchanalian song to the boisterous admiration of 

 the audience. Edwin, much chagrined, left my side 

 for his father, whom he persuaded to retire, and 

 after awhile to go on with his part in the play. 



Another evening performance was the occasion of 

 an amusing incident in one of the second-tier boxes 

 occupied by a man and woman. The attention of the au- 

 dience was drawn by the bibulous attentions of the 

 man, evidently a returned miner with dust, and whose 

 companion indicated her classification with the fanciful 

 order ; and' she seemed also under the effects of infla- 

 tion. This side-play had been apparent for some time, 

 while the actors were quite oblivious of the amused 



