hung round that man." Had he been of an egotistic mould
Barton might have added, that his Ghost was considered hardly less
effective than the Hamlet of the mighty Betterton.

For a decade, or longer, Booth went on this prosperous way, gaining in
favour with the theatre-goers, and increasing his artistic resources.
During this period he married the daughter of a baronet, and she lived
for six years, but not long enough to witness his triumphs in the
"Distressed Mother" and the classic "Cato." As Chetwood well said,
"Pyrrhus in the 'Distressed Mother' placed him in the seat of Tragedy,
and Cato fixed him there." We have already read something of the
"Distressed Mother," and of the production of Addison's tragedy, and
so there is no need to linger over the episodes which caused Booth to
be acclaimed Betterton's logical successor.

We remember, likewise, that the original Cato was admitted to a share
in the management of Drury Lane, as a result of the increased fame
accruing from his impersonation of the grand old Roman. It was an
incident, into which politics entered not a little; there were wires
to pull, and Lord Bolingbroke had his hand in the theatrical pie. "To
reward his merit," chronicles Chetwood, "he (Booth) was joined in
the patent, tho' great interest was made against him by the other
patentees, who, to prevent his soliciting his patrons at Court,
then at Windsor, gave out plays every night, where Mr. Booth had a
principal part. Notwithstanding this step, he had a chariot and six of
a nobleman's waiting for him at the end of every play, that whipt him
the twenty miles in three hours, and brought him back to the business
of the theatre the next night."

"He told me," adds the writer, "not one nobleman in the Kingdom had so
many sets of horses at command as he had at that time, having no less
than eight; the first set carrying him to Hounslow from London, ten
miles; and the next set, ready waiting with another chariot to
carry him to Windsor." Evidently the inspired Barton, with all his
high-flown talent, had an eye for the main chance. In this respect he
resembled one greater than he--David Garrick.

Like Garrick, too, the enterprising Booth had his Peg Woffington, in
the pretty person of Susan Mountford, a daughter of the great Mistress
Verbruggen. He never placed a wedding-ring upon a finger of this young
woman, but he gave her his protection after the death of the baronet's
daughter, and continued to do s