The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1894-06-02
NEARING The END
William j. Scanlan, Actor and Sing
or, Will Soon be Numbered
With the Dead.
HIS LIFE AT BLo0MlNGDALE.

A Bright Young Irish-Amerioan,
Captivating and Admired, Now
a Raving Maniac.
So many hundreds have heard and en-
joyed the singing Of William j. Seaman
that any news Of this once favorite actor
will be read with interest. He was an
exemplary Catholic, and portrayed the
Irish character in its true light. 1t is
now about three years since poor Scan
Ian was locked up in Bloomingdale Asy-
lum, New York. Many believed that he
was dead by this time, but he is alive
and hearty. He will never recover, how
ever, and, perhaps, has year more to
live. A few days ago Nellie BLY,, the we'll
known correspondent, and Mrs. Scanlan
visited the demented singer. Miss Bly,
tells of the visit as follows:
"I'll have Mr.. Seaman brought in, the
doctor said, and calling to an attendant,
be said:
Bring Mr.. Scanlan in.'
Mr.. Seaman heard his voice and looked
up as if surprised. Without word he
came with the attendant. We met him
at the door as he entered the corridor.
He looked at us without any visible emo
ton. Then he opened his coat and took
off his cap.
"Do you remember Miss BLY,, Nellie
Bly," they asked him.
He held out his hand to me and
smiled, but we could not tell whether he
remembered me or not. We then went
into the reception room, and he sat down
on lounge, and we sat facing him. He
looks very we'll. He is fat and healthy,
and his color is splendid. He looked
better and more like his old self when he
took off his top-coat and cap.
tie wore dark blue, almost invisible
striped suit, with q cutaway coat. He
was shaved beautifully. His scarf WAS
tied carefully, Ills collar and cuffs were
the perfectlon Of spotlessness, and his
coat was buttoned with tidiness that
was charming. Most parties are careless
and even untidy about their apparel, but
Mr.. Scanlan, with the exception of times
when he is raving mad, has always been
very particular about his dress ana ap-
pearance.
One of his queer fancies is his cap. It
is large WOODEN affair that folds in or
can be drawn down over the ears. 1t has
q peak and a large worsted ball on the
top. Summer and winter he wears it
and cannot be induced to wear any other.
He is very proud of it, too, for when they
spoke Of his liking for it he handled it
fondly and looked at me to sec if 1 ap-
preciated it.
He tried to talk to us, but he is in the
state whore speaking is very difficult and
almost inarticulate. Some words we
could catch and understand, but others
we're only confused sounds.
"Look very well?' he asked pointing to
his clothes.
We assured him that they did.
my yellow coat" he went on, "ftted
nioely'-pushing his waist in with both
hands. "Where did I get it?"
ABROAD, think it was in Belfast"
his wife said, and turning to me, she OK
planned that he was asking about coat
he wore on the stage.
Burned in Philadelphia" he asked,
anxiously, and she told him it as,which
was also fact.
Then he went on talking to himself.
and we could understand not single
word.
''Do you remember the last time we
saw Nellie Bly,? 1t was at Claremont.
Do you remember?" his wife asked him,
to divert his attention. He shook his
head slowly. No, he did not remember.
II don't think you know me at ALL"
said to him. II think you have forgot
ten me-" Poor Billy's eyes twinkled and
his sweet old smile crossed his lips.
'Nor' he replied, with an emphatic nod
of his head. crush! Hurry! Quick!
Pen! Pen Yes?"
'Around the world you meap," said
helping him out, and he nodded much
satisfied.
Then he spoke quite unexpectedly.
''Thirty. second street and Broad way.
last time," nodding at me.
"iYou mean at the hotel?" Mrs. Seaman
asked, and he said yes.
"He says he saw you last at the hotel,'
she explained to me, and he was right.
It was the last place I saw him before
the dreadful end.
I remember the time well. No one had
ever suggested then that Billy Scanlan
might b. insane. He came to the table
where I was dining and said seriously:
do you know, lean do nothing but
snow tombstones?"