PROFESSOR ANDERSON.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 33, 8 February 1905, Page 10

PROFESSOR ANDERSON.

Professor Anderson was a remarLable man (writes John Oleman in "Fi'ty Years of an Actor's Life"). He commenced life in a showman's van at the foot of the Saut Market, making properties and fighting broad-sword combats, in which much despised arr he was still an expert. Indeed, he was one of the best swordsmen I ever saw: but he was not an actor,, although he was under the firm impression to the day of his death that he was one. He was wont to say that all the money he bad ever made as a conjurer had never compensated for the'grievous disappointment h° had sustained in not achieving the object of his ambition as an actor. When at tbe back of God-speed, up in the Highlands (at Inverness, I think), he picked up an old Italian property man, who taught him some sleight-of-hand tricks. "To; keep the wolf from the door, they went! round and gave their performance at schools—and suchlike places. Succeed-j ing beyond anticipation, it occurred to Anderson that lie had got hold of a good! thing, so he went to work with a will, j dubbed himself Wizard of the North, put a new face upon his entertainment,! got together a glittering paraphernalia 1 of gold and silver plate, and some splen-; did printing, made his way to town, took the Adelphi, which happened to be vacant, manipulated the Press, and became famous. Among his friends at this period was Louis Napoleon (so-called Buonaparte ), then in indigent eircum-

stances. The Wizard became His High-! ness' banker upon more than one occasion, even actually found a great portion of the sinews of war for the Boulogne fiasco. To be quite just to his "illustri-! ous friend," lie not only faithfully re- j paid the loan, 'out proved a generous pa-1 tron afterwards. Anderson became weal-1 thy. as well as famous. He performed!, before Queen Victoria at Windsor, be-! ( fore Louis Philippe at the Tuilleries, be-1 ( fore the Czar Nicholas at St. Petersburg, and I don't know where When l|j first saw him at Belfast I was struck 11 with his good looks and his stalwart form. He was then a tall, handsome,'] well-built man of forty, with oval face, I • fine features, a well-balanced head, and a; • profusion of fair, sandy hair, flecked i with gold, parted in the centre and club- ■' bed at the ends. He wore an elaborate j; evening dress, and a wonderful embroidered shirt, large cuffs, turned up a la: d'Orsay. with a certain air of distinction. Had he kept his mouth closed he might i have posed as Cagliostro Redivivus (that '. is, the Cagliostro of Dumas, not of Carlylei. but. as "that ferocious literary 1 ruffian" (so Byron christened him),! Theodore Hook said to poor Conway, I "what a pity it was that the thing ' spoke!" His first utterance broke the; spell which his appearance bad created. ' "Ladies and gentlemen." said he in a ; strange jumble of Cockney and Glaswegian, "you will observe, and I beg you;: to keep your heye on mc. 'ere his three J i hoggs." Although his grammar was ofj : dubious quality, his legerdemain was!; never at fault. As a conjurer he carried j everything before him: but. alas! he I 1 could no more keep out of the theatre than a thirsty cat can keep her whiskers' out of a bowl of cream. He had no| sooner made a fortune by conjuring than he lost it by management. I