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Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2358, 20 August 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

There is generally a halo of romance about the lives of actors. In old days no actor of repute thought of dying without uttering a last word appropriate to the craft with which he had been connected. We never hear of the “ last dying confession” of the modern player. When Burbage was dying he muttered, ‘ Fxit, Burbage and this is the sole inscription on the tombstone. Chapman, an American actor of some note, whispered, ‘ It is time to go to the theatre.' Charles Young spoke the lines of young Hamlet —those lines of great significance—' The rest is silence.’ Quoth Kdmund Kean, with a sigh, ‘ Farewell, Floranthc !’ Palmer, as readers of theatrical history know, died on the stage while uttering the words, ‘ There is another and a better wic Id.’ Robson exclaimed, ‘ What a wasted life mine has been !’ Moody’s last audible w-.rds were, ‘Aye. bat to die, and go we known not where.’ An American actor named Perry said, ‘The play is done; ring down !’ Harley quaintly but appropriately said, ‘ I feel an exposition of sleep coming on me.’ And the la-t utterance of Widdicombe, the comedian, was, * Cudgel thy wits no more.’ ‘lt will be noted, presuming that these are authentic records, that all these actors quoted the familiar lines of plays. Stkasue"Pals. — Horses, like men. form strange likes and dislikes, and a curious instance of this was furnished by the famous racer, Charles the Twelfth, the winner of the St Leger of IS3O and other races, who conceived a great love for a grey stable cat that became bis constant companion, and if puss was not waiting to welcome him when he returned, the namesake of the Swedish hem, who was anything but an amiable animal, did not fail to testify bis displeasure. When taken out of the stable to run fir the Great Doncaster Stakes, he kept looking behind, and at last stuck stockstill and refused to move a step further. All of a sudden it occurred to the lad who was riding him that he wanted his pet, and finding that no persuasion could induce loin t > stir, lie ran back, fetched the cat and pul it in-ide the muzzle that hung at the horse’.raddle bow where the latter cm Id see it. and as soon as this was done “Charles'* gave a neigh of satisfaction and quietly proceeded on his journey. When he had won the race and was taken hack to ins stall, he gave the low whinney which was the usual signal for his feline favourite. Up jumped the cut purring on his back as though rejoicing in her big friend’s victory, and then, and not till then, he began quietly to munch his corn. At night puss always slept with him, and in J dm Herring's picture of the racer Grimalkin has not been forgotten.