The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1900-06-13
A SINGULAR MEETING
AN IMPRESSIVE AND PATHETIC Fu-
NERAL SERVICE.

est DenNno Oh
when this old Shakespcarean actor
that I'm telling you about died, there
was peculiar, maybe Il somewhat pa
thetic, scene In the poor room around his
bier" said an old theatrical man who
lives in his memories OF the palmy days.
Never mind about his name. He had
been notable in the support Of the best
OF the American tragedians for n great
many years. He was never big figure
in the eyes of the public, but by such
men as Edwin Forrest, first of all, then
John Mccullough, Edwin Booth, Law
renee Barrett and others, he was regard
ed as a valuable man in the interpreta-
ton OF second heavies in the Shakes
pearean plays"
"Wcll, along in the early eighties,
Shen he was still able to command high
salaries and attach himself TO the support
OF the highest men in the profession,
drink colared him. 1t got him terribly.
| never saw man get clutchcd by il
with such suddenness and violence. He
had not begun to drink until late in life,
but men OF that sort are the worst when
they do get going. This notable actor
and scholarly, dignihed man went square
to the dogs inside of two years. He had
spent all OF his savings, which amounted
to several thousand dollars, and he had
lost his home over in ole of the Oranges
of New Jersey. His wife left him and
went to her people in England. He found
himself in the streets, without an over
coat, without place to sleep, in the mid
die of winter. Time and again his old
friends picked him out of the ditch, got
him into hospitals and sanitariums, cloth
ed him, took an interest in him, carried
him off to their own homes-only to have
him break out worse than ever. He aged
very rapidly. He got to be bad and
hopeless job, in very fact. His friends
reluctantly gave him up, one by one.
Then he landed on Blackwel's island.
IL suppose we all turned more or less of
handspring to get him out of that, and
he was tried over again. He landed on
Blackwell's again just three weeks later.
This time it was decided to allow him to
remain there for n couple of weeks any
how. At the termination of that period
the poor old chap was taken off the is
land again, clothed, fed and housed, and
after a week he was once more on the is
land.
After that he was quite given up. Ii
was concluded by all hands that Black
wells, after all, was about the safest and
best place for him. In a general kind
of a way l always knew that after the
old man had got way down he had gone
TO live with poor, but extremely kindly
Irish family in n tenement house down
Cherry Hill way. In fact, had happen
cd along that way once or twice, just by
way of curiosity, you understand, to see
how the poor old fellow lived. 1t was a
very clean set Of four rooms-but poverty
everywhere-whcre the Irish family liv-
cd, and the old actor had n little back
room when he wasn't over on the island.
"One morning along toward 10 o'clock,
in the middle of winter, the news got to
me somehow that the old actor had died
in his tenement room the night before
Immediately upon his release from a 80
day term on the island. He had been
pretty kind to me when he was up in the
world, and. while wasn't particularly
rich, didn't purpose that he should be
buried in potter's field. SO took a cab
and went down Cherry Hill way.
II walked up the stairs and knocked
on the front door of the Irish family's
set of rooms. Fanny Davenport opened
the door and let me in.
why l began, with some surprise,
how did you know
"T was with him when he died last
evening and remained until had to rush
off to the theater,' replied the big hearted
thn In,. FOL nr
here last night. Our poor friend is al
ready prepared for burial. He was good
to me. We shall take him to Green
wood
"Shc couldn't say any more, and it
wasn't necessary anyhow. l had hardly
taken off my hat and gloves before there
was a quiet rap OH the door. opened
it. Augustin DAILY stood revealed. Be
side him was Father Ducey. We were all
pretty much surprised to see each other.
We had all really come from different di-
rections under initiatives. We talked
quietly for bit, when there was another
gentle tap on the door. l opened it and
let Emma Abbott in. There have been
few sweeter soulcd women In the world
than Emma Abbott.
"IIe was good to me- she said quiet
ly. After had learned something about
singing he taught me what know about
acting. He was very patient with me.
just heard
"Well, we were complete as party
then. We went into the room where the
old mamie who had been n prince in
generosity, king in cOurtesy-lay sleep
ing, and father uttered fervent prayer
and then said few words. He, too, had
known our friend in his better rs well as
in his fallen days.
"Daly stepped forward then, and, with
bowed head, he told of what good man
he had known this poor old man who lay
dead before us to be. DAILY felt pretty
bad as he spoke and he couldn't go on.
"Then Emma Abbott, who had been
sitting over in n dark corner of the little
old bare room, advanced to the foot Of
the casket. She sang Angels Ever
Bright and Fair no accompaniment, Of
course. You recall the sweetness Of her
voice? Now, as n matter Of fact. neither
DAILY, Ducey nor myself was an emotion
al man, far from it, but the tenderness
and the inspiration Of that song as the
pure souled little woman of the stage
sang it were almost unbearable.
"Then we took our poor old friends
body away-Out to Greenwood. I've al
ways thought that was a queer meeting
we all had, coming from different direc-
tions in that poor, bare tenement room"
Washington Star.