Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1875-10-01
THE PLAY.
The Amateur Actor.

And can you, by no drift Of circumstance.
Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
Grating so harshly all his days Of quiet
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
Hamlet
The lunatic asylums throughout the
country are generally the final stopping.
place for stage struck people.
OF all intolerable nuisances, sell-sufi-
cient bores, and diabolical torments the
amateur actor is about the worst. He
struts and frets and sweats and spou.s
himself into fever at the bare mention
oil. theater. When not hanging about
the purlieus Of the theater or wasting
the precious hours Of his youth in study
ing Hamlet, or Romeo, or Claude Mel
notte, he is clerking it or working at his
trade, whatever it may be. II be is o
! journeyman carpenter he uses his rip
saw after the manner of Edwin Forrest
when he waves his combat sword, and as
Spariacus rushed into the gladiatoral
arena; if be picks up chisel he spouts
over it, and remembers whep Roscius
was an actor in Rome and incontinently
turns from his jack-plaue with losthing
and disgust. The fever is upon him.
He essays to be an actor.
He already imagines himself the rival
Of Booth, the theatrical wonder Of the
nineteenth century. He prowls about
the costume shops and bores the cos
tuners into spasms with,his insane talk
concerning himself aud what he intends
to do when he shall have become the
eminent American tragedian, kemble
Blower. Ab
He has his bedroom hung and fes-
tooned with dilapidated tights, old tu-
MICS, parts OF faded shape suits, tar.
nished swords, and all sorts Of odds and
ends of stage properties which he has
by dint of constant expenditure accumu.
lated from various sources.
He has divers relics upon which, in
his moments Of leisure-if he ever has
any-he bestows much idiotic idolatry
There is battered, rusty old combat
sword, minus it's basket-handle, which,
he boldly asserts, was once the property
Of Edmund Kean.
There is bit Of stained, dingy gold
lace which (he will swear upon stack
Of bibles as high as house) was worn
by Garrick as Henry Will"
A pair of yellow buccaneer boots that
once grsced the legs Of the immortal
Kemble (his namsake). There is in
spiration in every crease of his boots
Then he has autographs and portraits Of
actors and actresses of high and low de-
gree, with an immense photograph Of
himself as he appeared the FIRST night in
Richard III, wherein he is taken in q
crouchiDg attitude, like a Maryland
tramp in the act Of springing upon
poor, defenseless henroost, But it is
when his Shakspearean Dramatic As
sociation" " gives an exhibition of their
histrionic power that his sonl is in arms
and eager for the fray. Then he is
crazy. For q whole week previous he
has been wildly plunging and gesticulat-
ing about his room, or rampaging about
town, making preparations for the com
ing event. he bores his friends into
coming; speaks mysteriously and in a
voice which sounds as deep and muliled
as il it was tied up in a rag and hidden
away in the innermost regions Of his
uihPuIhRih' AhSio 10 cu o"uy P0i
tentous pressure upon his stage-stricken
mind; he feels that he Is soon to step iorth
arrayed in borrowed dukes dress and
receive the plaudits of an appreciative
audience.
He pauses in the midst OF his dinner at
the cheap clearinghouse " here he stays,
and between bites mutters, To be or
not to be, that IS the-'no pickles, Sam,
to the waiter.
Vile minion OF Ruthless tyrant,
sherry your nibs into my presence.
This to the waiter who is acquainted with
his habits.
YES, sirl'
CaDst thou minister to an appetite
d seased? What no base churl; ! would
partake OF the succulent tspioca!
Plenty Of sauce on it2".
Z" No, thou greasy imp, no sauce.
By heavens why tarrieth the dessert?
Here will | lie tonight, but where to-
morrow
Away, serf; thou troublest me I'm
dot + the vein.
The waiter griHs, lays down the check
and vanishes.
! At last the allimportant nigh arrives.
| The Shakespeare" has its "theater on
the top floor OF some warehouse, and the
stage Is of the amateur, immensely anna
teur. The male asplrants dress in one
corner behind the scenes, and the ladies
in another corner hedged from view by
screens. The amateur is dressed and
climbing up upon the rattling stage, all
the boards OF which are loose, squeezes
his way between the marrow wings and
the bare brick wall down to the little
open space where his imperial majesty,
the amateur prompter, holds his court
and rings his bell. There at the pronpt
place upon q bench is sitting Miss Viola,
the Juliet" of the company. She runs