Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1874-05-14
ODD STAGE EXPERIENCES.
Olive l.OxnM's Experience with Thcot rical
cold Men,
Paris Letter In wilkes Snirit

!
Now lot mo confess At the beginning
TINT I don't like old men on the stage.
1t every hair on my head did not turn
white before was seven years Of age, it
is because there is no truth in that
Mario Antoinette story of emotion
blanching it. The terrible old Rollas,
whom I have timidly supported as
Cora's child, and who held me shakily
alott rs they pranccd across the broken
bridge, or stranglcd me in tho wild
frenzy of thoir dying scenes! Then
when I WAS of maturcr years my lot
was cast with old Blake. Oh, old Blake!
l know this is heresy, but hear me. I
used to play his neice with him in "The
Last Man." In his great scene he was
III the habbit of taking my head and
scraping it against the buttons of his
w"istco"t, pounding my plated hair
until every hairpin pierced tho opider-
mis-, seizing mo by both ears and turn
ing my face up to his by force, and
raining Scotch mist of evolutionary
saliva into it. It made a fine effect
from the orhestra chairs, but I don't
like old men OH the stage.
Then there was Peter Richings. He
used to come around behind the scenes
with his voice completely extinct, and
say, or rather pantomime, "I'm h'arse
tonight" Pleasant for those who had
to speak on his cues; especially as he
was savage if anything went wrong. L
don't like old men on the stage: Any
ono who has played Cora with Forrest
knows that it was his habit in his love
scenes to stand on both hor feet; when
he had got warmed to his work he'd
give her frequent foul blows; often he
finished by getting her head into
ohancery. 1t was very telling from
the dress circle, but I don't like old
men on the stage. Forrest was not,
strictly speaking, an old man in those
days, but of course Rolla enjoys peren-
NAL youth; but m undeniably aged
person who forms part of my budget is
Lear, who invariably mauls and
abuses his Goneril, wipes up the stage
with her, and sticks straws in her nose,
lettering senility is very unpleasant
sight to mo on the stage. Still, I feel
it my duty to go see Frederick Lem
attire, and al the more as have Just
been reading Forster's "Life of Dick
ems, in which the great novelist raves
as man seldom raved over Lemaitre's
acting. Though writing twenty years
ago, Dickens called him "Old
Lemaitre." At the very same Ambigu
where Dickens saw him, Lemaitre is
now playing in piece written express
y for him in his later years, and called
''The Porter of Number 15."
I took q seat in the orchestra stalls
in this damp old theatre and looked
around the house. I am not a very
nervous person, but 1 assure you It
gave me what the Mrs. Larriper style
of woman call a "turn," to think of
Dickens having come here twenty
years ago to witness the acting of the
same old man was now about to see.
'sThe great river is bearing us on" as
dying Paul Dombey said to sister Flor
ence. It has borne the great romancer
to the distant port, upon whose shore
Frederick Lemaitre must soon run his
keel, for his three-score years and ten
are more than told.
What this man must have been in
his prime we can have some faint idea
of by seeing the grand old wreck with
it's flaming eyes set in the wrinkled face,
its eloquent arm prodigal for thrilling
serve an imitator to make fortune on.
His voice is nearly gone; like Peter
Richings, he is hoarse tonight. But
he treads the stage like king, and
men whom I have heard in other pieces
at the Ambigu, and thought them
good actors, dwindle into such paltry
insignificance beside him, that I find
myself wondering how they can be toler-
ated. The thing that surprises me
most about Frederick is-not his pa
tAOs, nor his statuesqueness, nor his Dig
nifty, but his liveliness, his friskness and
regular old boy humor. He draws
pail of water and hoists it around a
good deal more lightly than I could,
and smashes the Villains hat on his
head with q sort of backhanded GESTURE
at once thrilling and laughable. I
observe that, like your Last Man and
your Rollas, your Lears, and the rest,
Lemaitre is perfectly regardless of
other peoples feelings on the stage.
He grasps the heroine's head on his vest
buttons like Blake, he rains elocu-
tionary saliva in her face, like Lear;
he pommels herin strength of his fond
ness, like Forrest and the other Rollas.
I enjoy it better in the orchestra
chairs, but I'd be willing to bet some
thing that the young girl who plays
with him don't like the old man on the
stage.
Bonapartist Prospects,
NJ. D. Conway writes an interesting
letter to the Cincinnati Commercial,
concerning the Banapartist prospects
in France. In the course of the letter
he says: "Just before leaving Paris
stopped to look at the Vendome column.