to whom it was presented, accompanied by a demand of several pounds sterling (?) for postage, rejected it without ceremony. Since that time it has not been heard of; and we believe that the very name of it is lost.

CHAPTER VIII.

IN

KEAN'S WANDERINGS-THE DRAMA AT DUMFRIESYORK-A RARE DANCING MASTER-ARRIVAL LONDON-COLD RECEPTIONS-SEES JOHN KEMBLE -ACTS AT WEYMOUTH-PROCEEDS TO EXETERA QUARREL AT THE RED LION-A JUMP THROUGH A GLASS DOOR-A TEST FOR SILVER.

ON leaving Ireland and Cherry's company, Kean once more threw himself upon the world, and became a wanderer on his own account. His first experiment on the public taste was made at Whitehaven, to which place he crossed over with his family. When he arrived there, he had no money, no engagement, no acquaintance, and no reasonable expectation of any sort. He tried reci

tations, his usual remedy in

desperate cases.

These failed; and he was obliged to part

with divers articles of dress, in order to obtain food for himself and his children.

From Whitehaven he proceeded to Dumfries, where he had acted as a boy, when belonging to a strolling company. To accomplish this journey, he sold a variety of things (dress, theatrical ornaments, &c.), and with the produce hired a little taxed cart, in which he, his wife, their two children, and the owner of the aforesaid cart, jogged on to Dumfries. At that time our tragedian had a dog called Daran, so named after the black hero in "The Exile." Daran was a fine fellow, who trotted merrily by the side of the family carriage, and killed sheep by the way. In case the provident reader should be desirous of knowing at what expense he may transfer his family, after the before-mentioned fashion, from Whitehaven to Dumfries, be it known that it will cost him four pounds. If he have a dog like Daran, indeed, who can

provide mutton for his family, he may, perhaps, do it for less. For Kean, it is proper to observe, did not use his four-footed friend as a purveyor. Whatever the hunter Daran killed, he consumed or left.

The wonderful ploughman, Burns, has cast a glory around Dumfries. The city is naturally proud of it. We do not know that it did anything to accelerate Burns's fame, or to enlarge his physical comforts whilst alive. But its posthumous acknowledgments of the poet's merits are ample. Towards our poor tragedian, Dumfries certainly did not exhibit any very liberal patronage. He arrived there without money, took refuge in a poor publichouse, hired a room, and announced, in the usual attractive style, his intention to give exhibitions of singing and recitations. do not know what might have been his expectations from the gratitude or admiration of the people of Dumfries, before whom he

We

The

had played repeatedly some few years previously; but, whatever they were, they were very speedily converted into certainty. The night for his performance arrived. entrance-money (he had an eye to the national character) was sixpence! Sixpence! Let the reader pause upon the sum; and then let him know that there was in the house-how much? Twenty pounds? Ten? Five? Ten shillings, perhaps?

One?

Or-we

must cut the matter short-there was Six

pence in the house!

There was one person

in Dumfries bold enough to part with sixpence to hear the first tragedian of his time recite the beautiful words of Shakspeare. How we should like to know the name of that ONE, (the Great Unknown of Dumfries!) in order that we might celebrate his liberal spirit with due honour!

These disappointments compelled our hero to dispose of some books belonging to his