Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-03-19
AREAL GOOD TIME.

Visits to New York Theaters and What a
Wide Awake Correspondent Saw and
Heard-Liyely Pen and Ink Sketches Of
Actors and Actresses.
Especial Correspondence st. Paul Globe.]
New YORK, March 81 have been nav
ing "a rea! good time" That truly New
England expression is full of the richest
meaning. With some people it is to laugh
in the sleeve at everybody not so wise as
themselves. With others it is to solemnly
condemn every one who isn't invariabl V
jolly. A hamper of champagne,-ius two
IN a neat coupe and the park not crowded,
"a good square set of 'rockaways on the
street" Oh, how various are these same
good times" in this good old Gotham.
where you all like to come back once IN q
while,-lOw own up! Talmage's sermons
make an awfully good time for Sunday
night moralists who wouldn't go to see the
Siege of Paris" because that would be
wicked! The Sun seems to have the best
kind of a time chatting about Salmi Morse
and telling folks about his bed quilt; while
the Dramatic NeOs makes Maggie Mitch
ell into ian ould hen," and shakes its be-
peppered portraits and its racy heads over
Its own frolickinG, rolicking, witty and
delicious humor! My good time has been
stacy. Not the sternal Broadway elephant
that booms its slow rattle under my win
dows, but the delightful area where mirth
and music mock at care, where talented
men and bright women while away en-
evening and three dollars for you and your
companion, with jssts and mighty agonies,
good solos, fantastic costumes and the au-
thors' pains. have been so much and
seen SO many and ''bravo'd' such
miscellaneous collection of people that l
wonder If 1 shall not mix them up telling
you of them!
There was Mrs. McKse Rankin IN ''49."
with Mr.. Mckee RankIn,a '49er. A mixture
of Lolita, Mrs. Pixlsy, Maggie Mitchell and
her now volumlnous jolly self, short-necked
and high-shouldersd, with sparkling eye
and voice like Walt Whitman's self de-
scription, drawing out stray tear after a
vehement wish to hug her! Never mind
how old che is or how old he
is! They are two r-old-young ever
fresh pleasures, play what they
may. Then ''Romaney Rye" at Brooklyn
theater, ''The World,' Youth" ''The
Exiles," half dozen Barley Campbell
situations, touch of Eugene Sue and a
yellow dog-and you have it. 1t is still
in1icting itself on an outside American
patience, / believe, With it's conglomeration
OF everything and nothing, from a cast as
mild and uninspiriting as one Of Wiggins'
cyclones to the costume of the heroine,
which in the midst of Intervals, changes,
incidents, vicissitsdes, marriage, sea trips
and land Opponents enough to bring out
no less than seven gowns on the least
stylish woman on earth, remains modest
black alpaca. rejecting in its shiny depths
the ever present dog, like the tins that ad-
vertise SGpOli0.
Maud Granger, too, I've seen. Her play
is excellent and herself as pretty as she's
painted. Oh, 1 beg pardon, meant to
say as she is praised. Her costumes are
exquisite knows that-and if
you gentlemen of st. Paul who havn't yet
given up your hearts. wish to see what the
sensation is of having them absolutely
pulled pell NELL out of your immaculate
linen bosoms, just "run in for an act''
when Miss Granger brings ''The Planters
Wife" to your city, and after paying your
dutiful respects to her lsdyship, steal one
glance at that most deliciously maiden
morsel, who wants to get married and
whose gay, sweet looks and sausy smiles,
coquettish costumes and remarkably
natural and bevitching acting, make her
the bouquet of the piece! Oh, l shall not
tell her name! You will all know it
and sing it, and write verses to it, and send
it notes, and sigh over it enough when it
appears on your bill boards. And 1 will
warrant she will make rosy mouth at you
all-hinG kiss from tbs tips of her fin
gers and airIly fits away!
Then I came down from the cloud land
of jollitY and saw something so real, so
deep, so great, so full of human passion
and feeling that the great audience in the
Academy of Music, with one accord, cried,
or groaned, or cheered, or shouted, or sent
its enthusiastic plSudits over and over
again across that wide expanse Of stage,
on which was to be seen but one superb
figure. The Gladiator received his
honors proudly, and again king
Lear" bowed his hoary head to
the loving, appreciatiye, sympathet-
&c calls of q heart-touched throng.
l marveled to hear the sounds of close and
intense emotion about me. Truly"
said, "God makes but one Salvini."
That power which he presents to US in
him is one whish is older than the pyra-
mids; which burned before great Moses
wrote his laws; which touched mems souls
to heroic deeds long ere the ancient Indian
Vedas first knew the trace of the stylus
along their parchment scrolls; power
unmeasured as mid air; as many -odored as
the morning scents of a tropic garden,
as appealing to every human emotion as
the wide range Of passion; endless variety
the uniqus-a unit Invisible into my
inriad phases one unquenchables park
which lifts all beings to the divine genius.
And in our day, and in our land, when
the restless and eager pushing towards ma
terial gain keeps human thinking ON too
ordinary level-whsn the small whirl of
gay society or the dull Flooding of grim
affairs makes women womanish instead of
womanly, aud men mechanical instead of
free, it is noble thing to go with this
actor back to the inner souls of the old
dramatists, to breathe the spirit of rich
thoughts, to feel sweep over US those grand
creations which portray the living, strug-
CLING, natural, personal man raised to the
limit of his character by the writer's i'm
mortal art. The farewell performances