The Press., 1883-08-02
sS4&f <s4 @s
Issued Every Thursday Evening.
"REMINISCENCES OF CHARLES KHAN.

I was playing with him in Louis XI., :, and was cast for a serious part-Trystan. I had been the first commedian at the the ater for time, and the crowd thought every thing did must be ludicrous. Kean was in the dying scene, where he hands the crown to the Dauphin and falls on the couch gashing. I had to say: 'The king is dead,' ought to have repeated it three
 times, but the roars of laughter from the audience drowned my voice, and the king could not die.s The curtain rolled down with Kean thunderstruck. He said to his wife: "Ellen Ellen! send for the young man." The young man made his appear ance, and the terrific tragedian said to me with eyes distended "Mr. -, you are very good comedian, but you can't play tragedy" He then had the manager pay me my regular salary four weeks ahead upon condition that would not come within a block of the theater for that length of time. He could not bear the sight of me.
 Years later I was at the Princess theater, London. when Kean was manager. He was playing a. part that called for sympa- thy from the audience. One of the ballet girls was standing in the second entrance, and she was so impressed with his acting that she burst into tears. Kean noticed the girl as he came of the stage, and talk ing her hand asked: "What is the matter, dear child?" .'Oh, nothing she said.
 "Oh, yes there is,' he replied. Finally she confessed that it was his acting that made her weep, and that she did not think of anything else. Kean then said: "Come with me, my dear" and led her away to his wife's room, and said: "Ellen, this l child has soul above the ballet business she has no right to be there." He had
 her transferred to another position. The other girls grew jealous and sought to win
 the old man like the fearful ballet girl. One of them took position in the en- | trance when he was playing one of his comedies in the Jealous Wife, popular comedy, and wept bitterly. Kean came of and asked what was the matter, The girl, tshaking with emotion, said: "Your acting, sir l'' Kean rushed to his wife, exclaiming, | ASMy God, Ellen, the child has no soul. She
 is crying at our comedy" }i | Again he was playing at the Theater Royal,
 Liverpool. A pantomime show had just closed
 at the theater, and dummy policeman had
 been drawn up in the flies" and left suspend
 ed. Kean went on to play Hamlet, and had
 reached that part where, with clasped hands I he says in solemn and measured accents | s'Now I am alone!" and had cast his eyes | upwards, when they fell npon the dummy DO
 liceman hanging in the machinery; he stop ped suddenly and walked off the stage, saying
 to the manager, Berkinsaw: ''Ring dow1
 the curtain, cannot go on." 'Why?" ht
 was asked. My attention was distracted,
 he said, shrugging, and pointing to the dunn lmy policeman, land what is it ?" He wal
 told what the offending figure was, and it wal
 hauled down. Don't ring up until see
 Ellen, look up to see,n said Kean. His wifi
 looked up and said: ssYes, Charles, it i tgone." "Then can look in safety and pla, the scene," he replied.
 I Kean was very small, skinny, spare-facet
 man, and would be passed by in the street
 without notice. In later life he grew hag gard, and lost his memory. For twenty year
 he was the recognized beau ideal of the En glish stage. He was 8 more finished acto
 tkan his father, old Edmund Kean, who wa rough and terrific in his acting In his las
 days he carried around two actors with him t.
 give him the words. He played the last tim
 at the Alexander Theater, Liverpool. DurinI
 the last weeks performance he left the stag
 one night, went home and died with the har
 ness just off.-Louisville Courier Journal.