to stop him but the
cactus. He tossed the flower-pots right and left. Talk about the flowers
that bloom in the spring,--why, I never saw such a wreck, and I am fully
convinced that there is nothing that will stop a thoroughly well-bred
bull but a full-bred South American cactus. [Laughter.] I went down to
look at the ruins and the devastation that this animal had made, and I
found him quietly eating black Hamburg grapes. I don't know anything
finer than black Hamburg grapes for Alderney bulls. A friend of mine,
who was chaffing me for my farming proclivities, said: "I see you have
got in some confusion here. It looks to me from seeing that gentleman
there--that stranger in the greenhouse--that you are trying to raise
early bulls under glass." [Laughter.]

Well, I will not tire you with these experiences. I can only
congratulate Mr. Burroughs upon his success, and I beg that you will
sympathize with me upon my failure; and now then allow me to conclude my
crude remarks by thanking you for the very kind manner in which you have
listened to my remarks and my experiences. I assure you--they are all of
them true. And I thank you, sir, for your kind introduction, which I am
afraid I do not deserve. And so, gentlemen, I wish you success and
happiness, and long life to your honorable Club. [Long-continued
applause.]

* * * * *

IN MEMORY OF EDWIN BOOTH

[Speech of Joseph Jefferson at the annual banquet held on Founders'
Night at the Players' Club, New York City, December 30, 1893. This was
the first time that Mr. Jefferson, the newly-elected President, spoke
to his fellow-players in his official capacity.]

FELLOW-PLAYERS:--Founders' Night should be of joy, unshaded by
the slightest tinge of gloom. I know this, but how can I speak to-night
without a loving reference to the one whose gift we now hold--a gift in
which our children and theirs for many generations will take pride,
delight and comfort. It would be a twice-told tale to rehearse the
career of Edwin Booth. You are as familiar with it as I am. But there
are incidents in his early life that may interest you, and possibly that
no one but myself could tell you.

An early remembrance of the stage brings before me the figure of the
elder Booth. When I was but five years of age I acted the Duke of York
to his Richard III. You may think it strange that I remember this
circumstance; but even a child as young as I was could not