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The old scyth bearer has been unusually busy in harvesting among professional during the past few days. From England we learn of the death of Thomas Wilson under peculiarly sad surroundings. One of his four children fell out of an express train, and impulsively he jumped out after her. The child was only bruised, but the father injured his spine. He was a pantomomimst of repute and a farcical actor of promise, and was under contract to the dramatic company of Mrs. George Crowe (our Kate Bateman) for next season. Charles Octavius Wood, son of the English scenic artist Charles Wood, and himself scenic artist at the {Tyne?} Theatre, Newcastle, has been drowned while boating and bathing. Many circus performers now among us knew Walter Beckett, bandmaster of John Henry Cooke's Circus, who has died of consumption at Dundee, Scotland. Paul and Alfred Martinetti, who are as well known here as upon the other side, have in Charles Wilford, who in private life was Charles Williams Dukes, lost one who was a valued member of their company of the pantomimists. England also records the death of Charles Garland, under which name he will be recognized by not a few in this country, although abroad, where he was an advanced tenor both in concert and in English opera, he bore the professional designation of Joseph Plerpoint. He should not be confounded with Bantock Pierpoint, an English bariton. The cable on July 6 announced the demise of Lindsay Sloper. A pianist of rare excellence and a composer whose work showed tasteful discrimination, he will, more because of his years than in spite of them, be missed in English musical circles. He was not a stranger here personally, having concluded a tour of this country 15 years ago as a member of the Dolby Concert Company, in which were Mme. Patey, Edith Wynne, William Cummings, and Charles Santley.

Australia contributes three deaths in the person of the wife of Signor Agrata, a Melbourne manager; of Arthur Redwood, a young comedian recently from England, and who had become a confirmed paralytic; and of Mrs. H.R. Harwood, wife of an Australian comedian and manager, and herself au actress of long standing.

Alike in dramatics and in operas Harwood is a name old to the stage on this continent, as well as mark in naval cirlces. It was the English actor, John Harwoodm who in the closing year of the last century, while playing in this country, married Sarah Bache, granddaughter of Benjamin Franklin. He quit and stage and became a wine merchant in Philadelphia. His son was Rear-Admiral Harwood, of the United States navy, and his grandsons were Lieut.-Col. Franklin Harwood, of the Engineer Corps, and Lieut. Henry Wood Harwood, of the Marines. The latter died in Philadelphia eight years ago.

Last Sunday this column referred incidentally to a marriage in the circus ring in the Quaker City in 1877. The unnamed groom was Rudolphe Mette, one of the acrobatic brothers of that name. He became careless of himself, and last Sabbath morning his dead body was found in a stable in Brooklyn.

These brief necrological records would be in complete without a passing reference to Edward Lamb. We remember him as the hateful Haley in the original production here of that particular brand of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" in which all the Howards began to occupy the National Theatre in the Summer of 1853. Spate of frame, with not five pounds of flesh on him were the water squeezed out, he was, except in height, another Charles Burke. Even his voice was more like Burke's or Stuart Robson's than like H. E. Stevens's or that of some other "heavy man" of these very "heavy" days. Lamb was clearly out of his sphere until on night, about a year later, we saw him in a sort of the Lone Fisherman role at the Bowery Theatre. It was one of the soldiers in "Putnam." Lamb had but a word to say here and there, but his exits were in themselves an entire comic play. The short, quick, nervous step, the sidling movement, the upward jerk of the chin, and the peculiar bobbing of the head told better than a dozen "lengths" of speech could possibly have done. Later his Jaques Strop in "Robert Macaire" proved a real treat in conjuction with the Robert of Leffingwell, who was undoubtedly the best mock-heroic actor the American stage has never known. Many years later Lamb did Strop at the Winter Garden by special request.

Except for his advanced years, there should be no alarm felt because of the disappearance of Henry Scharf. It is not the first time he has been missing. He kept himself out of sight of professionals for nearly 20 years, and about 1881 reappeared upon the stage after those who had played him with when he came from England and opened at the theatre on the broadway near Anthony-street, early in the '50s, had supposed him dead. He had been quietly living South, pursuing another vocation.

It is in contemplation unwittingly to summon George L. Fox and broken-legged Harry Seymour from their graves. Each will come up with a stiff protest. A new "skit," to be called "Amanuensis," is reported to be in preparation for the Bijou Theatre. Among its threatened novelties are dog to impersonate a cat, with the idea of making the feline appear of unusual size. Fox and Seymour conveyed the same idea in pantomime by using a boy, who makes a bigger cat and can always be intelligently directed, whereas even a trained dog will flunk. Another novelty is to be a full moon of hugeness, which will first change to a human eye that winks, and finally resolve itself into the man who is popularly supposed to inhabit the domain of Luna whenever the supply of green cheese has run out. It is confidently predicted that this innovation will make audiences laugh. there is no doubt of it. It made them cackle ages ago. According to a published synopsis of "Amanuensis" that play is to bristle with the unshelled casianea vulgus. This is the commonest kind of "chestnust." The starting point of "Amaneunsis" is described as "hynotism, the new form of magnetism." This is Hell--at least, it was a german named Hell who, in the last century, discovered hypnotic thralldom and taught some valuable things in animal magnetism to one Mesmer, to whom posterity has, as a matter of convenience, given the credit of the whole somnambulistic or nerve-racking business. If the new "skit" has nothing in it fresher to the stage than hypnotism, big cat, and comic moon, it may cost H. E. Dixey something to experiment with it at the Bijou for the purpose of casting it out upon the road.

The popularity of the catch phrase "You know" seems almost simultaneously to have inspired two local song writers. One of them is certainly ahead of the other in the matter of copyright, although behind in publication, and he is now going about town inquiring what the words "colorable imitation" mean when used by the "Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C." All the same, he wonders that no comic song writer caught on to this title ahead of him. His squib is dedicated to Roland Recd.

The death of Edward Lamb could not well fail to call to mind W.J. Florence's alleged mental feat in relation to "Caste" just 20 years ago. There was no need for the court to pass upon the question whether it would be legal for a man to hire some one with a good memory ro see a play and commit it to paper after leaving the theatre, if it would be illegal for him to hire stenographers to jot it down in the theatre. Mr. Florence probably volunteered his somewhat surprising testimony in extenuation of his having the play for production at Barney Williams's theatre in the face of the fact that the right to it had been secured from the author by Lester Wallack; but it is doubtful if the Judge gave the mnemonic performance any weight at all.

A proprietary right in plays has since been recognized, and we no longer see foreign authors resorting to the subterfuge of doubling up with some American citizen in order to secure a copyright; but the consequences of Mr. Florence's setting the world a bad example by his testimony as to personal memorizing are observable even to-day. There is before us the dead-earnest circular of one who prides himself upon being "America's foremost young dramatic author." He proves that he is--bu citing the wearisome number of other men's plays he has written after having somehow got into a parquet seat and committed them to memory.

It may contribute largely to Mr. Florence's ethanasia for him to realize, when at last the A.G. does his double tonguing on the cornet, (the cornet has superseded the bugle as a solo instrument on earth, and why not in favor with the Angel Gabriel?) that he was not alone in encouraging the mnemonic method of playwriting. Prof. J.H. Siddons, who died some months ago in Washington, boasted that he had memorized "The Dead Heart" for the Bowery Theatre. The right to it had been secured by a Baltimore manager, and Edwin Adams had already made a specialty of the leading role, Robert Landry. This was before Mr. Florence had, as he claimed, surcharged his brain with the lines and business of "Caste." Ancestry was no bar to Siddons's act of constructive literary piracy. The Professor was something more than actor, journalist, reader, lecturer, and dramatic tutor. He claimed to be a son of that George Siddons who was the son of the great Sarah Siddons.

Julian Cross, a comedian of some artistic worth when he came to this country with Mrs. John Wood, and worthier now by reason of the seasoning due to lapse of years, has "given the sack" to a troublesome sac. The other day a London surgeon relieved his face of a cyst.

This cheerful allusion to the keen cuts of surgery is a reminder that Dr. Moreil Mackenzie, whose knife has recently been making life worth clinging to by the Crown Prince of Germany, is a newphew of the noted English actor, Henry Compton, who died but a few years ago, and therefore cousin of Edward Compton, who supported Adelaide Neilson in America during one season. Miss Neilson and young Mr. Compton profoundly esteemed each other. A year or so after Adelaide's death he married Virginia Bateman. Dr. Mackenzie has a son on the stage.

This leads us to be inquisitive. Have the Mackenzie family lost a member? There was an English actor of that name who came here a half century ago. All went well enough with him until he strayed into Philadelphia. There the critics "sat upon him," and the next day he baffled them forever by jumping into the Deleware River.

Minnie Palmer has done much better with "Pert" in Melbourne than with "My Sweetheart." John R. Rogers is instituting the usual complimentary dinner to himself in Australia. His star will come home by way of San Francisco, and is due in this city in November next.

Almost everybody knows the song bird Catherine Devrient, at least by reputation that time has thoroughly stamped. A London manager recently engaged her for the leading role in "Le Postillon de Lonjumeau," which he shelved after the first night. She sued him for $300 by his testimony, and they gave that amount to Madame.

Nothing is commoner than to designate some of the alleged funnyisms of the stage as "rot." a term which, bu the way, originated among the circus folks. Perhaps this will explain why a leading comic actor of the Berlin stage bears the name of Rotter.

Thomas A. Hall, actor, stage manager, and house manager from time nearly immemorial, returned last week from England, where he had been stage manager for Mary Anderson. Gilbert Tate will represent him abroad.

Rumor not having euceeded in marrying Mary Anderson to an English Duke or an English Earl, the voluble dame has at last engaged her to an actor. This gives the press an opportunity to say, with much more prettiness than originality, that "she is wedded to her art alone." But the cynic thereupon has his whine, and it ends in "cash box."

Another actress with a large head for business is Mrs. Langtry, but she has not been meeting with too much of it during her present engagement in San Francisco, although in the entire season in America she has reason to congratulate herself. The wiring that she has taken out preliminary naturalization papers in San Francisco need not cause the English public to fear that they will lse her. She is desirous of procuring a divorce. It is not an easy thing to obtain in England, and our courts have no time for recitals of the marital infelicities of non-citizens.

John Gourlay has been in poor luck professionally during his visit to relatives in Australia. The plays that have gone so well for him elsewhere have not "taken" there. When he sprang "Skipped by the Light of the Moon" on the Melbournese, somebody was so inconsiderate as to fancy that in it he recognized the "Gay City," which is from the pen of the inventor of "'Ostler Joe,"George R. Sims.

William Calder, who, with his wife, Alfy Chippendale, has been in England several years; is on July 14 to bring out the Joseph Jefferson and Lin Shewell drama of "Shadows of a Great stop-gap for Grace Hawthorne's deferred presentation of "Theodora" there. It would not be a surprise if some Londoner should fancy that in this drama he sees somewhat of a resemblance to one that John S. Clarke exported from England to this country about 17 years ago. It will certainly surprise almost everybody but Luke Schoolcraft, the minstrel, to be told that Alfy Chippendale, who married into the family of "Old Chip" and early became a widow, is a grand niece of President Zachary Taylor.

The cabled news that an action has been brought in London to restrain Buffalo Bill from rifle shooting in his Wild West exhibition in that city on the ground that it is a nuisance is perhaps more practical than it seems on its face. It will probably transpire that it is the entire show which is a nuisance to somebody, in the sense that it is attracting too many people, and thereby is hurting the business of other shows.

It was vengeful little Coney Island that started the cry "Overcrowded boats!" when, 12 days ago, Forepaugh opened at Erastina. Yet the boats were so little jammed that jammed that Forepaugh during the first few days was considering whether or not he should strike his tents. He concluded to wait and see what the Fourth of July would bring him. It proved a rich yield, and he is yet on Staten Island, which, what with St. George and Erastina, continues a thorn in the side of Coney.

But it is not always from rival showmen that opposition of this kind comes. Albert Cassidy, agent and manager, is dead, but the memory remains of what happened to him in Philadelphia 22 years ago. He was press agent for Lucille Western, who was then bringing out her budget of dramatic horrors known as "The Child Stealer." Cassidy, thinking that the [hour?] had come for cute work, and that he was the man for the hour, published an advertisement cautioning the public against a female child stealer reported to have arrived from Australia, and minutely describing her appearance. On the ground that this, although it was nine years ahead of the Charlie Ross affair, tended to frighten parents, the agent was not only indicted, but was also actually held for trial.

It is always a satisfaction for one to learn of the whereabouts of one's friends, regardless of what sometimes may be the wishes of the latter.
Maud Forrester, who is of notoriety in connection with the spectacular drama, has been figuring in a London court with the result of being formally committed for 12 days, although the Judge kindly suspended the order for a month. A costumer had sued her for a debt of []30, contracted when she was in her heyday as Lady Godiva, and before she came to this country to make display her physical abundance in "Mazeppa" equestrianism. She has been making money since her return to England, but the costumer has had to be content with the judgements the courts have awarded him.

Of the minstrels of the very olden time, only Dan Emmett, Sam Sanford, Charlie White, Cool White, and Dave Reed are living. Dave Wambold, R.M. Carroll, R.M. Hooley, and William White. (Bernard, of the San Francisco Minstrels,) are still pulsating, but they were some years behind the others named in entering the business. Hooley is a theatrical manager in Chicago, Cool White is stage manager for Hooley's Theatre, Sam Sanford is at present manager of a traveling troupe playing the drama. "Under the Lash." Dick Carroll. (originally Master Marks, a jig dancer, who succeeded the negro boy Juba at Charlie White's Melodeon, Bowery, this city,) has for many years been out of minstrelsy or black face, although in a different line of stage business his feet continue as nimble as of yore; Dave Wambold is enjoying his fortune as well as a confirmed invalid is capable of doing, Charle White and Bernard long ago shook themselves clear of professional harness, and aged Dan Emmett, whenever he is physically able and can get the chance, "rosins his bow" for a dance party in Chicago.

Dave Reed was a boy when Emmett, Frank Brower, Dick Pelham, and William Whitlock, (father-in-law of the late Edwin Adams,) started whom George Wooldridge (afterward "Tom Quick," of John Clancy's Leader) took to England about 44 years ago. Dave is no longer juggling or jingling on the end, he has quit"Shoofly" since Dan Bryant's death, and his "Sally. Come Up," probably not one of us shall ever see and hear again; but there is not a gray hair in his head and he feels as young as the spryest of us. Having trained the "Reed Birds." he is arranging to play one-night stands in minor cities, and especially in towns along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. The "Reed Birds" are all his own. Not counting himself and "mother," there are five of them, but the fifth is as yet in swaddling clothes, and only gets upon the stage when Mother does not know where else to put it. The party do an entertaining little sketch, into which Dave and his four children introduce 10 specialty acts, Mrs. Reed, (a sister of L.R. Willard, the actor, Reed's first wife having died without issue,) doing what is technically termed "staight business." Davis is looking for some man who is topographically posted as to the few towns in which it is not necessary for a troupe to lease all the fences and dead walls in order to let the public know that they are coming. He has a novel scheme of advertising.

Robert Fraser, also, has a novel schems. In a circular at hand he proposes to bring out a new pantomime, to be called familiarly "The Spider and the Fly," and to give every manager who plays it a stockholding interest therein. It is to be hoped, for the old-time clown's sake, that the project will prove profitable to him and the stockholders. But the modern manager, who turns his back upon the theatrical stock company, is not likely to dabble in other kidnds of stock. J.H. Haverly is an exception, and john E. Owens has ceased to be.

It may be called "Foli's Folly." Seeking to prevent the Devonshite, Club whose house is next door to his in London, from erecting a wooden stand in front of their premises on the plea that it would interfere with the Americo-Italian's view of the procession on Jubilee Day, the operatic Signor Foli has brought costs of court upon himself. The Judge substantially held that, while light is essential to an Englishman's enjoyment of perfect freedom, a mere view of a thing cannot be copyrighted, so to speak.

A propos of copyright, why did not Cool White, who wrote "The Fall of Babylon" nigh onto a half century ago and produced it, enter it "according to act of Congress?" The Staten Island Amusement Company would be his oyster now. Last season Cincinnati, which then had the St. George idea, but on not so ambitious a scale, would have been Cool's plum pudding.

The junior partner of Koster & Bial sailed last week for Berlin, Vienna, and Paris in quest of musical talent for their hall, which is to open in the Autumn as a concert room for those only who seek the cantatrice by gaslight. No matinees. Mr. Bial intends to reintroduce Strauss to the American public if he will make the journey once more. He was here in 1872. it is said that of late he has become an inveterate card player, and would rather shift pasteboard than swing bat.

Wonder if the Kiralfy's mean it? Their big bulls style their forthcoming spectacle "Legardere." That is probably nearere the truth in one sense than the big bills usually get.

Manager Daniel Shelby, of Chicago, is in town with his wife. She is ill and Mr. Shelby himself is not bragging. Manager Dudley McAdow has struggled to his feet after a severe battle with typhoid fever. James Armstrong has been chosen to manage the "Early Birds" company. Patterning after G.S. Knight, who shifted from the vaudevilles to the legitimate by playing the Dutch Captain in Evangeline," Bonny Reynolds, who used to be of the Dutch team of Reynolds and Walling, is next season to essay the role of the Captain Aimee. "The Human Fly" is passing her leisure in town driving a dogcart. She and the other Austin sister will travel again next season with R.G. Austin's company, opening Sept. 5.

The mother of the Standwood sisters, sketch artists in the vaudevilles, was yesterday giving expression to a tribulation that emphasizes the heavy black she wears. Gertie, the younger of the girls, had mysteriously disappeared, and her mother had recieved a letter, as she says, from a man named Wilson, stating that he had mattied Gertie as far back as may 30, having been divorced from his prior wife may 15. This maybe news to that prior wife. The mother of the girl declares that Wilson is a Harlem amusement manager and is 60 years old. Unless in her grief she is extravagan in estimating the age this, cannot be isaac N. Wilson, who has been a manager in Harlem, has resided there many years, although born and brought up in the Fourteenth Ward, seems not much more than 52 years old, and has been generally credited with more sense than to desire, as legal phraseology euphemistically puts these cases sometimes, to deprive a parent of the services of her daughter. The disappearance of one sister has thrown the other out of engagements.

Robert Fulford and wife (Annie Pixley, a New York girl, whose "Uncle Shea" once stood well up in Brooklyn jurisprudence) are to sail for England July 12. Tony Pastor and wife will sail thence at the close of this month, and probably "Pony" Moore will accompany them on one of his frequent visits to the land of his birth. Dutch Daly, who had intended next season to tour the States again, writes that he will not come. Katie Putname, who is in Paris, will be back early in August. John S. Clarke, who is again here, is to begin his next American season under the management of the veteran John T. Ford, who 30 years ago directed the first startting tour of Edwin Booth, whose sister Clarke married. With reference to the young Edwin of those days Ford made a prophecy. It hasn't come true yet.