t I have never seen any that were other than
jumping-jack imitations of a jungle tiger compared with Henry H. Rogers
when he "lets 'er go"--when the instant comes that he realizes some one
is balking the accomplishment of his will.

Above all things Henry H. Rogers is a great actor. Had his lot been
cast upon the stage, he might easily have eclipsed the fame of Booth or
Salvini. He knows the human animal from the soles of his feet to the
part in his hair and from his shoulder-blade to his breastbone, and like
all great actors is not above getting down to every part he plays. He is
likely also so to lose himself in a role that he gives it his own force
and identity, and then things happen quite at variance with the lines.
The original Booth would come upon the stage the cool, calculating,
polished actor, but when well into his part was so lost in it that it
was often with difficulty he could be brought back to himself when the
curtain fell. Once while playing Richard III. at the old Boston Museum,
Richmond, by whom he was to be slain, made, at the ordained moment, the
thrust which should have laid him low, but instead, Booth in high frenzy
parried it, and with the fiendishness of the original Richard, step by
step drove Richmond off the stage and through the wings, and it was not
until the police seized the great tragedian, two blocks away, that the
terrified duke, who had dropped his sword and was running for dear life,
was sure he would ever act again.

When in the midst of his important plays, it is doubtful whether Henry
H. Rogers realizes until the guardians of the peace appear where the
acting begins and the reality should end. His intimate associates can
recall many times when his determination to make a hit in his part has
caused other actors cast with him to throw aside their dummy swords and
run for their lives.

The entire history of "Standard Oil" is strewn with court-scenes, civil
and criminal, and in all the important ones Henry H. Rogers, the actor,
will be found doing marvellous "stunts." Standard Oil historians are
fond of dwelling on the extraordinary testifying abilities of John D.
Rockefeller and other members of the band, but the acrobatic feats of
ground and lofty tumbling in the way of truth which they have given when
before the blinking footlights of the temples of justice are as
Punch-and-Judy shows to a Barnum three-ring circus compared to Henry H.
Rogers' exhibitions.

His "I will tell the