Connecticut western news., 1873-09-05
THE SUFFERS ; STORY.

Before I begin, I wishes to say few
 words-a sort of prologue-like to my
 little drama. ain't a-writing this my
 self. l couldn't, was never teached.
 went to school once, certainly; but
 that was only 8 Sunday one, so O course
 writing and all of them games is foreign languages to me. A swell gent is a.
 taking everything as I says down, in
 bar parlor of public next the theatre.
 He says he's on the press, and had stood three-penn' 'orth of Irish hot and there you have us, he-the swell gent a-writing as I speaks, and me a-talking and drinking. (Here's your very good healthD Now the overture is over, and up goes the curtain.
 I'm super. I suppose you knows what that is. If you don't, and aint theatrically inclined, I'll tell you. A super's one of them as takes the small parts in play, where the s' business D is important and the 'tcackle" " aint par ticular. That's super.
 When Shakespeare wrote "A man in his time plays many parts," he must have had super in his eye, if supers was invented in those days, which I suppose they was, or Shakespeare aint the man I took him for. Bless you! our role is unlimited does every thing. Why, in one piece sometimes I takes a matter of half dozen parts, if net more. Say Hamlet" is put up :: first, I'm a guard a-walking on the ram parts of the castle then I'm courier attending on the king; then I'm a recorder (which aint got nothing to do with the law, as thought at one time, but performs on sort of flute , then I'm a sailor; arter that mute at Ophelia's funeral then I'm a soldier again, or a courier, as the case may be. And there l am. A super's more impor- tant than anybody may think. Send king on without his court, and where would he be? Let Richard the Third enter without his army at his back, and he'd be hissed off for certain. A play IS like that bundle of sticks business taken all of lump it's firm part lem and it's all up. Just you take away the supers from play, and an audience of babblers wouldn't put up with it.
 l gets shilling night, and finds my own color, which, being & saving man, I usually manages to scrape enough up Of the waste in the paint room-for in the matter of lime and, ochre artists is prod1gals and if I'm hard up for black for eyebrow or moustache, for in- stance-l gets the needfu1 from the chimney pipe of the stove in the proper ty-room.
 l made my first appearance at the Adelph1 Gardens, at the age of six, as a frog In the pantomime, which was an immense success, and I've been a-going on with great eclat Gas I once heard our leading man say) ever since. I've work ed my way up to the top of my profess sion In my line, which is heavy lead of supers and I've occasion to know that at particular times-say the first night of a new piece-I'm looked up to by the management to carry the play through; and generally contrives to satisfy the most sangu1nary expectations.
 I'm proud of my profession. I aint only actor for the sake of the fifty lucre, (which l suppose means coin,) but for the literature and art-specially the art. I've studied it-really studied 1t you mayn't think so, but it's fact. Many's the night I've stood at the wings, when the stage manager weren't nowhere near, a-listening to the play. And in most stock pieces I know where the points ought to be and if novice fails to make 'em-which he in- variably do-Tm disgusted in propor- tion. I've served under Edmund Kean, William Macready, and all the stars since. I once fell out with MT. Ma cready, because I couldn't remember where to stand at a certain cue. He was very particular about his situations; and one day, at rehearsal, I couldn't think where l ought to be, and I made the same mistake so often that I got hustered l was young at the time and rather sudden so when Mir. Macready, almost out of patience, says-s Stand here, you dolt P pointing to place on the stage, I takes piece of chalk out of my pocket and makes X just where he wanted me to be and there I stood looking as cool as railway clerk, all the while was as frightened as 8 anna teur. If MT. Ms eyes at that identi- cal moment had been daggers, I should n't have been telling you this here. I never went on with MT. Macready after that.
 Edmund Kean was different. His way of doing things was just the same | :" off and Con-" If you didn't please him, you know'd it. had to lake a goblet of wine on to him one time and l. ! forgot my cue, and kept him waiting. When did go on, he was regular boil | ing over with rage. He catches me by the collar of my coat and the roomy part of my brooches and pitches me slap of the stage. But he wasn't bad sort; for after he was done he comes up to me and says he was very sorry for hurt |