events. We have already mentioned "Dombey and Son," in 1848; and that
signal triumph was followed by "David Copperfield," "Oliver Twist,"
"Nicholas Nickleby," and "The Pickwickians." The immortal _Toodles_ was
first seen October 2, 1848, and an account of that performance will be
found in our Recollections. It became later the custom of the management
to present "The Serious Family" and "The Toodles" every Tuesday and
Friday in each week, so great was the popularity of those pieces. People
came from all parts of the country to see them; parents brought their
families and relatives; and one middle-aged couple, a husband and wife,
never failed, for successive seasons, to occupy the same seats at every
representation. All the old comedies were given in due course, with that
perfection of cast to which we have alluded, and those pieces made
famous by Burton's acting--such as "The Breach of Promise," "Charles
XII.," "Happiest Day of my Life," "Paul Pry," "Family Jars," "Soldier's
Daughter," "Charles II.," "How to Make Home Happy," etc., (and which now
seem for ever lost,)--were a constant source of joyous pleasure. The
wisdom and good judgment of the manager were conspicuous in the nightly
programmes, and it may here be said that no theatrical caterer ever
excelled Burton in an acute perception of what was needful to meet the
public taste, and in providing the requisite entertainment. To wide
experience he added intuitive appreciation of stage effect, and his
extensive knowledge of the drama was seen in the disciplining of his
forces and in his sagacious distributions. It must not be forgotten that
as manager as well as actor Burton shone in the prosperity and fame of
his theatre; and it will not be when now we touch on the Shakespearian
revivals that lent such beauty, grace, and dignity to his stage, and
revealed the manager in the gracious aspect of a profound and reverent
student of the mighty dramatist. These revivals were the crowning
triumphs of Burton's management. The production of "A Midsummer Night's
Dream," "Twelfth Night," "The Tempest," "Winter's Tale," "The Merry
Wives of Windsor," marked an era in theatrical representation, for up
to that time no attempt had been made so ambitious; and the success that
attended the enterprise was in all respects richly deserved. "A
Midsummer Night's Dream," in particular, won universal admiration. The
fairy portion was so beautiful; the play before the duke so capital;
that Shakespeare's creation acted upon the public like a revelation, and
heart and mind felt the glow of a new sensation. The notices of the
press were so unqualified in their praise of "A Midsummer Night's
Dream," that they were gathered and issued in a pamphlet as a tribute to
the achievement. The effect of the succeeding revivals was similar in
kind, and the people marvelled at the resources of a management that on
so limited a stage could produce such wonderful results. And with these
plays of Shakespeare came the impersonations of _Nick Bottom_, _Sir Toby
Belch_, _Caliban_, _Autolycus_, and _Falstaff_--never to be forgotten by
those who witnessed them, and of which a more extended review is given
in our Recollections. It only needed Shakespeare to round the glory of
Chambers Street; after that there were no more worlds to conquer.
[Illustration: MR. BURTON AS TIMOTHY TOODLE.]
Following the years, we find a record of "As You Like It," produced for
the benefit of the American Dramatic Fund at the Astor Place
Opera-House, January 8, 1850, in which Burton appeared as _Touchstone_,
with a cast including Hamblin, Bland, Jordan, Chippendale, Chapman, Miss
Cushman, Mrs. Abbott, Mrs. Walcott, and Mrs. J. Gilbert. In the same
year he played a short engagement at the Chatham Theatre, and also
essayed to revive the old Olympic; but the division of attraction was of
brief duration. His home was in Chambers Street, and there, to borrow
from Lord Tennyson, the banner of Burton blew. The usual even tenor of
the theatre was varied by new accessions to the company, and by first
appearances, and other interesting events. The present Miss Maggie
Mitchell appeared June 2, 1851, as _Julia_, in "The Soldier's Daughter";
but we cannot say positively that the occasion was her stage débût. May
3, 1852, was the farewell benefit of Mary Taylor, to which reference has
already been made. September 6th of the same year was the date of the
"Centenary Festival of the Introduction of the Drama into America," at
Castle Garden, and we find Burton figuring in the elaborate and
attractive programme as _Launcelot Gobbo_, in "The Merchant of Venice."
Miss Agnes Robertson made her New York débût October 22, 1853, and
November 23d of the same year witnessed the production of "The Fox
Hunt," an original comedy by Dion Boucicault, in which Burton appeared
as _William Link_. In 1854, that long baronet, Sir William Don, entered
upon the scene, and in the same year (December 18th) a benefit to Morris
Barnett occurred, on which occasion "The Serious Family" was given with
all the honors. Mr. H. A. Perry made his débût in 1856, playing
_Gossamer_, in "Laugh When You Can," and that actor was also seen as
_Leontes_, in "Winter's Tale."
Every summer for several years, during the recess at Chambers Street,
Burton played engagements at Niblo's with a selection from his company,
and was seen at that resort in a round of his favorite characters. This
was a great boon to strangers visiting the city, and to those whose
circumstances kept them in town. It was some consolation to be moved to
mirth, and there never was any disaffection in Burton's summer
constituency. But the theatrical tide was setting uptown, and the rapid
growth of the city counselled a removal to more available neighborhoods;
and so, following the current, the manager bid farewell to the scene of
so many triumphs, and leased the building originally known as Tripler
Hall, calling it the Metropolitan, or, as stated by Ireland, "Burton's
New Theatre," where he opened September 8, 1856, with "The Rivals."
The Chambers Street Theatre was opened July 10, 1848, and was closed
September 6, 1856. The eight years of its existence are replete with
fascinating dramatic history, and are a copious and important
contribution to the annals of the stage. It was the school of many an
actor who rose to fame, and the most famous actors of the time were seen
upon its boards. It was the birthplace of plays and characters never
excelled in their effect upon an audience, and its record is graced by a
noble and poetic celebration of Shakespeare's immortal works. And who
shall say how many hearts were lightened, and spirits cheered, by the
good genius of mirth that presided there?
1856-1860.
It goes without saying that the New Theatre, to those who had been
accustomed to the cosiness of Chambers Street, was not _Burton's_. The
home feeling so peculiar to the other house could not readily be
reproduced in the spacious auditorium of the Metropolitan. The
far-reaching stage seemed alien and unreal, and the lofty walls were
cold and unfamiliar. There were changes in the company, too; old
favorites were missing, and a kindred interest was not awakened by
new-comers. But the manager was there, and with wonted energy began the
campaign. The first season was prosperous, and many of the well-known
Chambers Street pieces were revived and given with effect. Daniel
Setchell made his appearance September 25, 1856, and grew rapidly in
public favor. This comedian at a later date essayed the part of
_Aminadab Sleek_; but, as Ireland observes, "Burton's _Sleek_ alone
filled the public mind," and the effort was not encouraged. The Irish
comedian, John Collins, was seen about this time, and in November Dion
Boucicault and wife opened an engagement. January 13, 1857, Burton
played _Dogberry_ for the first time in New York, and the same year (May
14th) Edwin Booth appeared at the New Theatre as _Richard III_. It was
in this year (October) that Burton was seen in Albany for the first
time, playing a round of his famous parts; and it is interesting to note
that the present Joe Jefferson, then at Laura Keene's, "during the
absence of Burton," to quote Ireland again, "was recognized as the best
low comedian in town." Burton also appeared in Boston for the first time
in 1857, opening in _Captain Cuttle_. His reception was so extraordinary
in warmth and enthusiasm that he lost control of himself and could not
speak for several minutes. This engagement was at the Boston Theatre,
and every night the house was crammed. He visited Boston again in 1858,
and with the same gratifying success.
It is not impossible that these starring tours suggested to Burton a new
and prosperous field of activity, and perhaps some physical symptom
dictated relief from the strain and responsibility of management. From
whatever cause, after another season of varying fortune, the
Metropolitan was given up (1858), and he commenced a starring tour with
the highest success, "his name and fame," says Ireland, "being familiar
in every quarter of the Union, and more surely attractive than any other
theatrical magnet that could be presented."
[Illustration: Mechanics Hall Poster]
In conjunction with Mrs. Hughes and a few members of his former
company, he opened an engagement at Niblo's, July 4, 1859, playing to
crowded houses. His last appearance in New York was at the same theatre,
on the occasion of his benefit, October 15, 1859, playing _Toodle_ in
the afternoon, and _Mr. Sudden_, _Toby Tramp_, and _Micawber_ in the
evening, supported by Mrs. Hughes as _Mrs. Toodle_, _Mrs. Trapper_, and
_Betsy Trotwood_. "On the day and evening of his benefit," says Ireland,
"more than six hundred persons who had paid for tickets received their
money back from the box-office, not being able to obtain admission."
On Saturday, December 3, 1859, Mr. Burton started for Hamilton, Canada,
to fulfil an engagement there and at Toronto. A terrible snow-storm was
met on the way; the train was blocked; and the delay and discomfort
consequent were almost unendurable. While recovering from the exposure
and fatigue, Mr. Burton wrote the following letter to his children, and
we are kindly permitted to make use of it in this volume. It will be
read with interest, not only for its feeling, but for its graphic vigor
of narration and humorous spirit. And we believe it was the last letter
he ever wrote.
HAMILTON, CANADA;
_Sunday, December_ 4, 1859.
MY DARLING CHILDREN:
Here I am, in this provincial city of the Western wilderness, snowed up,
500 miles away from my dear home and my precious treasures. Such a day
and night as we had yesterday I hope never to go through again. You
remember how warm it was on Friday? positively hot; and on the next
morning the weather was cold as New Year's, but clear and brisk, and the
icy tone of the atmosphere seemed to agree with me. We reached Albany in
good order, and started at twelve on the long trip to the Suspension
Bridge, over 300 miles, with a light fall of snow, blown about in every
direction by a very low sort of a high wind. As we got on our way we
found the snow getting deeper, and the flats of the Mohawk River covered
with ice. We dined at Utica--a pretty fair meal, with cold plates and
Dutch waiters, who looked cold too. When we changed cars at Rochester
the wind blew ferociously, and the snow fell heavily, so much so that
some fears were expressed that a drift might form on some part of the
road and prevent our progress for a while. At the Suspension Bridge, at
half-past twelve in the night, I had to get out of the car and wade
ankle deep in snow to the open road beside the baggage-car, and pick out
and give checks for our wagon-load of trunks, seeing them safely
deposited in another car for transportation into Canada. I thought this
was a hard job, but it was nothing to what I had to do in Canada, and
really a pleasant little episode compared with my doings hereafter. We
crossed the Suspension Bridge within sight of the Falls of Niagara, but
we saw them not. The wind howled as we passed over that fearful gulf,
and drowned the roaring of the Falls and the rumbling of the rapids as
they boiled along some 170 feet below us. I confess that I rejoiced in
reaching _terra firma_, even on the cold, inhospitable land of Canada.
Well, we thought we were snugly housed for the balance of our journey,
some forty-four miles to Hamilton, where we intended to rest for the
night (at two in the morning) and pass a cheerful Canadian Sunday in our
own rooms looking at the snow, when we were roused from our seats:
"Change cars and re-check your baggage." Out we turned, bundles, bags,
shawls, top-coat, brandy bottle, cough mixture, papers, books, and
growls, leaving behind my old travelling cap, which I have had for
years, and is now gone for ever. When I got out I had to jump into a bed
of snow up to my knees, wade a quarter of a mile through the unbroken
whiteness to a stand of cars inhumanly situated far from the shelter of
the dépôt or the lee of any building whatever. There, in that snow,
without any feeling in my feet, the wild wind whistling no end of Verdi
overtures with ophicleide accompaniment in the snort of various engines,
I had to select my nine packages, see them weighed, have them checked,
wait while the numbers of the checks were written down, copied off for
me, and a receipt written for the payment imposed on me for extra
baggage. If I had not been so miserably perished with cold, I could have
felt some pity for the poor officials who had to do all this, not only
for me, but for some twenty others, and in the open air too. But it
seemed that I had all the baggage in the car. "Who owns 57,467?" "I do."
"Why, you have baggage enough for a dozen." And it was so. The nine
boxes looked like ninety in the confused atmosphere of steam and
drifting snow. "That's all right, sir." "Then why don't you put the
trunks in the baggage car?" "So we will when they have passed the
customs"!!!!!!!
Yes, my darlings, at that hour, past midnight, in the open snow-storm,
with a wind that killed old _Cuttle's_ "What blew each indiwiddiwal hair
from off yer 'ed," in a blinding drift of frozen crystals biting each
feature and driving their minute but piercing angles into every pore, I
had to wait the presence and the pleasure of Victoria's excisemen, to
say whether my baggage might or might not pass duty free into her
infernal dominions. I had one cheerful and pleasant thought that filled
my bosom with religious delight while I waited. I remembered playing
_Harrop_ in the drama of "The Innkeeper's Daughter,"--he is an old
smuggler, and _shoots the exciseman_. I remembered that when I fired the
pistol and the victim dropped, I exclaimed "He's done for!" and the
audience laughed and applauded! Yes, the discriminating public applauded
me for killing that exciseman! Oh, was it to do again! How well I could
kill that Canadian gauger here, in the snow-storm, at midnight, on the
banks of the mad Niagara! Don't be alarmed, darlings. I didn't kill him.
He came at last, booted up to his middle, with a Canadian capote and
hood, and a leather belt buckled tightly around his waist. But, despite
his Canadian costume, the Cockney stuck out boldly all over him. He had
a roast-beef-and-porter look, red cheeks, and big English whiskers.
Again I had to go over my list, "great box, little box, bandbox,
bundle," to the potentate of the tariff. I gave him my honor as a
gentleman, etc., and then told him my profession, and, oh! my
loves--oh! my darling children--what is fame? _he had never heard of Mr.
Burton, the comedian!_ Of course, after that, you agree with me that he
ought to be killed at once, "without remorse or dread." And he had such
an aggravating smell of hot steak and brandy-and-water. Now, I suppose
you think that my _Ledger_ story of intense interest, describing the
agonies of a middle-aged (or more so) individual, is over. Not a bit of
it. The fifth act is to come. We were jogging along in the cars, slowly
crunching the hard snow on the rails, when we came gradually to a full
stop. Presently whisperings were heard, occasional and inquisitive male
passengers braved even the fury of the storm, and went abroad to see
what was the matter, and in a few minutes we learned that there was a
"break in the road." You will ask the meaning of the phrase--so did I,
without avail. Gradually the passengers withdrew from the car (we had
but one) and I was compelled to look for myself. There had been a
collision, or rather an overtaking, for a fast passenger train ran into
a freight train, and fearful work they made of it. I went back for Mrs.
Hughes and the bags, coats, and books. Heaven knows how we got along, in
such a fearful storm, knee-deep in snow and the track full of holes,
with a yawning gulf on each side. When at last we reached our place of
refuge, we found the car so high off the rail that it seemed impossible
to mount it. Some gentlemen helped Mrs. Hughes in, with such exertions
that I expected to see my dear old friend pulled into bits. Then your
poor father was left to his fate. I got up--don't ask me how, but when I
get home I'll climb into my bedroom window from the street, to show you
how I did it. We had with us in the car an admiring friend from Detroit,
who claimed relationship with me because his son married Niblo's niece.
Well, we mustered in the car, wet, weary, excited, and chilled to the
centre. Oh! my precious ones, didn't that brandy bottle come in well in
that scene? How I let them smell it, and only smell it! How I took a
drink and smacked my lips, and drank again, and didn't I win the heart
of old Niblo's brother's daughter's husband's father by giving him a big
drink? At last we started, slowly, backed into Hamilton at half-past
four in the morning, with snow two feet deep in the streets. Half an
hour's ride in a dilapidated article of the omnibus genus, and we were
dumped at a place a cad called the "Hanglo-American 'Otel," recommended
me by Miss Niblo's marital ancestor. A fire in my room, a quiet night's
rest, a good breakfast (first-class venison steak), and I feel quite
well. My feet were wet. My boots could hardly be pulled off, and in
revenge to-day they won't be pulled on. Now am I not a brave old papa
to carry a heart disease and a nervous cough through such scenes?
We are now forty miles from Toronto, whither we proceed at nine in the
morning. I hear melancholy doings are prevalent at the place we are
bound to, and this deep snow will not make it any better. If business is
bad, I shall stay but one week, and go to Rochester for the second week.
I am afraid our plants at Glen Cove were badly hurt by the cold spell
coming on so suddenly. I hope this weather has not increased your
coughs. My cough is still troublesome, but I am every way better.
May the great God of goodness keep His blessing on all my children; may
they keep in health, and in the spirit of love with each other, is the
nightly prayer of
Their affectionate father,
W. E. BURTON.
The last appearance of the comedian on any stage was at Mechanics' Hall,
Hamilton, Canada, December 16, 1859. He played _Aminadab Sleek_ and
_Goodluck_ in "John Jones." He returned from the trip in an almost
exhausted condition, and, after lingering for nearly two months,
suffering greatly, died of enlargement of the heart, February 10, 1860.
Mr. Burton left a wife and three daughters, all of whom are living. His
remains were interred in Greenwood Cemetery.
* * * * *
The following is a list of parts acted by Mr. Burton, and though
probably there are many omissions, it fully justifies Ireland's
observation that his repertory was extended almost indefinitely, and
"carried into a range, where, if he was sometimes excelled by Placide
and Blake, his rivalry was such as to demand every effort on their part
to retain their generally acknowledged superiority." It may be mentioned
that the parts of _Aminadab Sleek_ and _Timothy Toodle_ were acted by
Burton respectively six hundred and six hundred and forty times.
LIST OF CHARACTERS PERFORMED BY MR. BURTON.
CHARACTERS. PLAYS.
HOST, }
FALSTAFF,} in "The Merry Wives of Windsor."
DROMIO, in "The Comedy of Errors."
DR. OLLAPOD, }
SIR ROBERT BRAMBLE,} in "The Poor Gentleman."
MUNNS, in "Forty Winks."
JOB THORNBERRY, in "John Bull."
LAUNCELOT GOBBO, in "The Merchant of Venice."
HARROP, in "The Innkeeper's Daughter."
BOTTOM, in "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
CALIBAN, in "The Tempest."
SIR TOBY BELCH, in "Twelfth Night."
CAPT. CUTTLE, in "Dombey and Son."
TIMOTHY TOODLE, in "The Toodles."
AMINADAB SLEEK, in "The Serious Family."
VAN DUNDER, in "The Dutch Governor."
TRIPLET, in "Masks and Faces."
BOB ACRES, in "The Rivals."
DR. PANGLOSS,}
LORD DUBERLY,} in "The Heir-at-Law."
BILLY LACKADAY, in "Sweethearts and Wives."
PILLICODDY, in "Poor Pillicoddy."
TOBY TRAMP, in "The Mummy."
TONY LUMPKIN, in "She Stoops to Conquer."
CHAS. GOLDFINCH, in "The Road to Ruin."
JACQUES STROP, in "Robert Macaire."
SEPTIMUS PODDLE, in "Take That Girl Away."
JEM BAGGS, in "The Wandering Minstrel."
SLASHER, in "Slasher and Crasher."
JOHN UNIT, in "Self."
GREGORY THIMBERWELL, in "State Secrets."
BONNYCASTLE, in "The Two Bonnycastles."
JEREMIAH CLIP, in "The Widow's Victim."
DIMPLE, in "Leap Year."
MEGRIM, in "Blue Devils."
FELIX FUMER, in "The Laughing Hyena."
LA FLEUR, in "Animal Magnetism."
TOM RIPSTONE, in "Evil Genius."
TOM NODDY, in "Tom Noddy's Secret."
SNOBBINGTON, in "A Good Night's Rest."
PETTIBONE, in "A Kiss in the Dark."
PAUL PRY, in "Paul Pry."
JOE BAGS, in "Wanted 1000 Milliners."
SIR OLIVER SURFACE,}
SIR PETER TEAZLE, } in "The School for Scandal."
MEDDLE, in "London Assurance."
THOMAS TROT, in "Paris and London."
WORMWOOD, in "The Lottery Ticket."
WADDILOVE, in "To Parents and Guardians."
SQUEERS, in "Nicholas Nickleby."
MICAWBER, in "David Copperfield."
JOHN MILDMAY, in "Still Waters Run Deep."
SUDDEN, in "The Breach of Promise."
CALEB QUOTEM, in "The Review."
PEDRO, in "Cinderella."
SCHNAPPS, in "The Naiad Queen."
MR. BUMBLE, in "Oliver Twist."
PETER SPYK, in "The Loan of a Lover."
MOCK DUKE, in "The Honeymoon."
SIR WM. FONDLOVE, in "The Love Chase."
CODDLE,}
DOVE, } in "Married Life."
DOMINIE SAMPSON, in "Guy Mannering."
PETER, in "The Stranger."
MR. GILMAN, in "Happiest Day of My Life."
GRAVES, in "Money."
DUKE'S SERVANT, in "High Life Below Stairs."
SAM WELLER, in "Pickwick."
DON WHISKERANDOS, in "The Critic."
SIMPSON, in "Simpson & Co."
TOUCHSTONE, in "As You Like It."
TOM TAPE, in "Sketches in India."
TONY BAVARD, in "The French Spy."
SCRUB, in "Now-a-Days."
BROWN, in "Kill or Cure."
FLUID, in "The Water Party."
NICHOLAS RUE, in "Secrets Worth Knowing."
MR. FLARE, in "Such As It Is."
FREDERICK STORK, in "The Prince's Frolic."
MR. TWEEDLE, in "The Broken Heart."
GALOCHARD, in "The King's Gardener."
SNOWBALL, in "The Catspaw."
WAGGLES, in "Friend Waggles."
EUCLID FACILE, in "Twice Killed."
JENKINS, in "Gretna Green."
BULLFROG, in "The Rent Day."
BOX, in "Box and Cox."
MRS. MACBETH, in "Macbeth Travestie."
CHRISTOPHER STRAP, in "Pleasant Neighbors."
OLD RAPID, in "A Cure For the Heartache."
COL. DAMAS, in "The Lady of Lyons."
VERGES, }
DOGBERRY,} in "Much Ado About Nothing."
JOHN SMITH, in "Nature's Nobleman."
EPHRAIM JENKINSON, in "The Vicar of Wakefield."
MICHAEL, in "Love in Humble Life."
TETTERBY, in "The Haunted Man."
MR. MENNY, in "Socialism."
PIERRE DE LA ROCHE, in "The Midnight Watch."
SPHINX, in "The Sphinx."
TOM BOBOLINK, in "Temptation."
PICADILLY, in "Burton's New York Directory."
JUSTICE WOODCOCK, in "Love in a Village."
BILL, in "Peep From the Parlor Windows."
HARESFOOT, in "Life Among the Players."
NOGGS, in "The Mormons."
MARC ANTONY BAROWN, in "A Great Tragic Revival."
SIGNOR TOPAZ, in "Fascination."
VANDAM, in "Wall Street."
COL. ROCKET, in "Old Heads and Young Hearts."
VON FIEZENSPAN, in "The Slave Actress."
JONAS BLOT, in "The Poor Scholar."
EPAMINONDAS, in "Genevieve."
ANTHONY GAB, in "The Witch Wife."
BONUS, in "Laugh When You Can."
WILLIAM RUFUS, in "Helping Hands."
COL. GOLDIE, in "'Tis Ill Playing with Edged Tools."
BERRYMAN, in "False Pretences."
DICK, in "Ellen Wareham."
SUCKLING, in "Education."
SPATTERDASH, in "The Young Quaker."
BOB CLOVER, in "Married an Actress."
OLD REVEL, in "School for Grown Children."
GILES GRIZZLE, in "Stag Hall."
BALTHAZAR, in "Player's Plot."
WILLIAM LINK, in "The Fox-Hunt."
BLANQUET, in "The Lancers."
BRAINWORM, in "Every Man in His Humor."
MANUEL COGGS, in "Married by Force."
RATTAN, in "The Beehive."
GREGORY GRIZZLE, in "My Wife and Umbrella."
DELPH, in "Family Jars."
TEWBERRY, in "A Heart of Gold."
JUPITER, in "Apollo in New York."
COUNT VENTOSO, in "Pride Must Have a Fall."
DR. LACQUER, in "Our Set."
DE BONHOMME, in "A Nice Young Man."
SIR HIPPINGTON MIFF, in "Comfortable Lodgings."
MAXIMUS HOGSFLESH, in "Barbers at Court."
FRIGHT, in "Crimson Crimes."
INFANTE FURIBOND, in "Invisible Prince."
MR. GREENFINCH, in "Duel in the Dark."
TIMOTHY QUAINT, in "Soldier's Daughter."
SIR SIMON SLACK, in "Spring and Autumn."
PEEPING TOM, in "All at Coventry."
TRISTAM SAPPY, in "Deaf as a Post."
CODGER, in "You're Another."
TACTIC, in "My Fellow Clerk."
TONY NETTLETOP, in "Love in a Maze."
TOBIAS SHORTCUT, in "The Spitfire."
BOB TICKET, in "An Alarming Sacrifice."
JEREMY DIDDLER, in "Raising the Wind."
JACK HUMPHREYS, in "Turning the Tables."
MAW-WORM, in "The Hypocrite."
DAFFODIL TWOD, in "The Ladies' Man."
GOLIGHTLY, in "Lend Me Five Shillings."
CHRISTOPHER CROOKPATH, in "Upper Ten and Lower Twenty."
GHOST, in "Hamlet Travestie."
DIGGORY, in "The Spectre Bridegroom."
BENJAMIN BUZZARD, in "The Two Buzzards."
MARMADUKE MOUSER, in "Betsey Baker."
CRACK, in "The Turnpike Gate."
BILLY BLACK, in "100-Pound Note."
CAPT. COPP, in "Charles the Second."
MARALL, in "New Way to Pay Old Debts."
TOBIAS SHORTCUT, in "The Cockney."
PETER POPPLES, in "Man of Many Friends."
ADAM BROCK, in "Charles the Twelfth."
RICHARD PRIDE, in "Janet Pride."
POLONIUS, }
FIRST GRAVE-DIGGER, } in "Hamlet."
FIRST WITCH, in "Macbeth."
SIR GEORGE THUNDER, in "Wild Oats."
GUY GOODLUCK, in "John Jones."
MARPLOT, in "The Busybody."
JOE SEDLEY, in "Vanity Fair."
GIL, in "Giralda."
QUEEN BEE, in "St. Cupid."
DABCHICK, in "How to Make Home Happy."
SHADOWLY SOFTHEAD, in "Not So Bad As We Seem."
SMYTH, in "Mind Your Own Business."
SIR TIMOTHY STILTON, in "Patrician and Parvenu."
CARDINAL MAZARIN, in "Youthful Days of Louis XIV."
TWINKS, in "Mrs. Bunbury's Spoons."