56 Reminiscences of 



table with rapid speed, breaking the rod tip and drag- 

 ging the rod after, while Booth, crying "scat, cat," 

 had no effect on the now crazed feline, which he 

 was following after in great excitement at high pres- 

 sure with adjectives of singular note. The sequel of 

 this was the escape of the cat with the gaudy fly well 

 hooked in its foot, and a well smashed-up rod. I was 

 too much convulsed, with the others drawn in by the 

 commotion, to render any aid, and Booth soon joined 

 in with our laughter, confessing that his fishing ex- 

 perience was a failure, and that he would not have any 

 more of it. 



Booth frequently regaled us with stories of his 

 stage experience, and I remember of his saying that 

 his father was at one time very friendly and intimate 

 with Edwin Forrest, after whom he was named, and 

 how well he remembered the affection of Forrest for 

 him in his youth, and how often Forrest had held him 

 in his lap, and told him little stories, and how soon 

 that affection passed away when he was reaching 

 success on the stage, and commenced playing parts 

 which Forrest considered his own; that this jealousy 

 of Forrest's concentrated to an intense hatred, as 

 indicated on several occasions afterwards. Forrest 

 was a man of intense prejudices and dislikes, and yet 

 of gentle and loving disposition toward those he 

 trusted. He was as simple as a child in many ways, 

 and as appreciative as a sensitive woman to delicate 

 attentions. His physique was magnificent and power- 

 ful, and among the parts he played Othello would 

 seem to have been more his prototype than any other 

 character illustrated by the divine poet. He nourished 

 an unfortunate inherent hatred and vindictiveness 



