R. JEAN BUCKLEY (Alexander W. Moody), one of the good old-timers, made his first appearance at the old Marshall Theatre, Richmond, Va., in October, 1847, as a ballad singer. The following year he joined Joe Sweeney’s Minstrels, and at that time he was not only the youngest living banjo player, but one of the very few living players. Mr. Buckley was many years stage manager at the Odeon Theatre, Baltimore, Md., and for twenty-two years he was associated with Tim Morris, though he also worked with some of the best comedians in the country. [Illustration: J. W. RAYNOR JERRY BRYANT CAMPBELL’S MINSTRELS (1848) The original company was organized in June, 1847. Jerry Bryant and J. W. Raynor were two of the original company. The other photos represent minstrel scenes of that day.] While Mr. Buckley was probably best known in minstrelsy, he also traveled extensively with several prominent dramatic and circus organizations. He is a skilled general musician, but was well known for his performances on the banjo and guitar; as an interlocutor and “straight” man, he ranked high. Mr. Buckley retired from active theatricals in 1907, after sixty years of active theatrical life; truly a remarkable record. R. Jean Buckley was born in Williamsburg, Va., November 24, 1834. BILLY CARTER was not the father of the banjo, but he adopted it at an early age, and has had it in his possession ever since. Mr. Carter first appeared in New Orleans as a performer, in the early 60’s; he did black and white-face business at three dollars per evening, which wasn’t bad for a raw amateur. In 1865 your Uncle Bill sat in the middle and played the banjo with the Louisiana Serenaders; this was his first minstrel troupe, and “Codfish Aristocracy” was the soul-inspiring ballad that stirred his auditors. After the affair in which he sang about the “Finny 400,” he joined the Great Western Opera Bouffe Company; this sounded good enough for a four years engagement, but the truth of the matter is, it flopped in Lynchburg, Va., in _nearly_ four years less than that time; subsequently Mr. Carter and dear departed Luke Schoolcraft (who was a member of the company) arrived in Philadelphia in somewhat distressed financial circumstances; fortunately our banjo comique had a relative in the Quaker City; an _uncle_, I believe, and hunting him up, he took a violin and showed it to him. * * * With this 85 cents they arrived in New York (Mr. Great Western had considerately purchased transportation to the metropolis), and shortly after, he secured an engagement at Hooley’s Minstrels in Brooklyn, where he met with instant success.