remember the actor and the speech he uttered. A bravo with the conventional boots, buckled belt, and pistols was addressing a group of men who had apparently been uttering disparaging remarks on him. “You know me ! ” he shouted, “ know me as what ? Cuzique the bold and daring, Cuzique the rover, the pirate if you will, but not Cuzique the coward. My step, you see, is light.” With that he folded his arms, eyed his traducers from head to foot, and crossed the stage, making the boards tremble as he strode them with inter- jectional stops between each stride. I had little time to see more than a scene or so of the next piece, which was the “Ship of Glass,” for I was due at home from Leigh’s at about half-past ten. Staying till the last moment I dared, I ran home (we lived in Mornington Road then). My father opened the door to me. “You’re late,” was all he said, but he had a manner of saying things when he was cross that was harder to endure than a good box of the ear would have been, and I sat down to my frugal supper of bread and cheese with half a pint of porter, uncomfortable and abashed.
I saw Cuzique often after this ; he was the heavy man of the company. His name was E. Green. One Boxing Night he was playing in a piece before the pantomime. The part was a very heavy one. He was grunting, groaning, and with one hand
