Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1882-09-11
RAYMONDs REMARKS
Aboat Himself, wheeling aud the The
airfeal BusineSs Generally,

airiesl Business Generally,
Shortly after tea, last night, at the "
Lure House, our repor torlal eis.,tion vss
attracted to the neryop. restless move.
ments Of E-istle ran with very strongly
tnAiAeu ian countenance and with ex-
'eIo tLemocratic indications. The face
tN" ed familiar, the features similar" and
when they relaxed into County-of-Cork
smile, the mystery was cleared up. There
was only one of them 'extant," and he had
it. BY "He" we mean John t. Raymond,
the comedian, who is booked for the
Opera House this week. A more particu-
lar description of this gentleman would be
surperfiuous, as he istoo we'll known to all
the amusement readers OF the REGISTER TO
require even so much as We have given.
Shaking hands with him we were soon
intent upon some of the incidents OF his
dramatic career, which the old fellow rat
tied off with much gusto andgreat facility.
II remember little circumstance connect
ed with a visit Of mine here during thewar.
/ was playing Ten Nights in Barroom' to
an immense house in Old Washington
Hall. | believe il was in 1883, when all at
once happened TO look up and the scenery
was all atire Recognizing the peril OF tn
situation once the audience became aware
of the danger, executed pirouette upon
the stage, and in a loud stage whisper, l
said to the prompter: Drop the curtain.
The drop was lowered at once, the burn
ing canvas torn from it's fastenings ana
flung into the alley when 1t was soon
extinguished. In the meantime the cur
tain had been raised, and by facial contor-
tions and other advertisements, the audi
enCe had its attention fixed until the dan
ger was over. The audience was largely
composed of women and children, the
house being packed to sufOcation, and had
a stampede occurred the consequences
would have been fearful, as the exit was a
long, narrow flight of stairs opening on
Twelfth street, but so cleverly had We man.
aged that no suspicion of danger even en-
tered the mind of a single spectator.
"Ifirst went into,,th dramatic business in
1853, in Rochester, \. v, when lad OF
Il, and the years seem as nothing since
that time. feel as yonng, although am
not, as then, and it does not really appear
that thirty of the most momentous years
of the worlds history have gone over my
head. All of the old stars, rForest, the
elder Booth, Lester Wallack, were on the
stage then. At that time we travelled or
stage coaches and canal boats, and when a
troupe went from Rochester by rail to
Buffalo it was an event from which they al
WAYS dated subsequent events. l tell you,
Young man." said the veteran actor, mus
ingly, that things have che.iged wonder
fully on the ste5e and in this world in my
brief recollection"
Col" we Intercepted, what did you
play, or rather, what were your specialties
before you fixed up Sellers?
"Oh pshaw, that is an impression that all
OF you young newspaper men have. Why
have played everything nearly in the
range OF comedy from Rip Van Wrinkle to
digging in the Spectre Bridegroom" Sell
lers is one Of my later acquisitions, and to
tell the truth, it has done something for
me. have several new plays which l will
give this week in this city"
Which Of your performances do you pre-
fer ~
myself think more of My Son" than I
do of any of the other selections. would
rather play one scene of it than the five
acts of anything else have. People won't
have il, however. The name is against it,
and the announcement of the play is suf-
fcient to change the receipts of a good
house at any time. l tell you L like my
profession. There is something new in it
every day for me to admire. The eternal
change, or | might say the variation, has a
charm for me that cannot express.
For nearly an hour he Chatted thus
pleasantly, Mr.. Raymond recounting the
scenes of his life for the last thirty years
His conversation is wonderfully like his
stage talk. His mannerisms are attractive.
and ocular He remembers Wheeling for
many years back and talked glibly of some
of the old residents whom he met on his
various visits. The old Athenaeum, he
said, came nearly being his place of resi-
dence one winter. The manager offered
him five dollars a week, but he demanded
six, and being a man of determination he
refused to recede. AT that time" he said,
six dollars was first-clasS wages for an
actor. lie could board for three dollars
week at first-class hotel and have money
to throw at poor people"