Morning journal and courier., 1886-04-05
SEEN FROM THE WINGS.
Mary AndersOA's Galatea and Her
 Powder PuG Behind d the Scenes.


 From the Chicago Inter-Ocean.l
 "Pygmalion and Galatea, :" the play, is al- ready in progress. The orchestra, driven from its place in front to make room for the crush, is standing in the wings. The actors who are off tiptoe around to their next en- trance and wait for their cues, passively per haps, but often chatting in whispers over some little slip which the audience never noted, or some improvement otherwise in their co-laborer's work, approaching shades and minor touches in it which escape the general public. Miss Anderson, during the short waits, is not particularly graceful in the drspery her part enforces-no woman could be, and she kicks the trail of her robe over her arm, and juggles it like a lady who has not yet mastered the mysterious kinks of an especially long riding habit. To see her thus, one cannot but have higher op- inion of the art which commands perfect grace while before the people, in spite of the restrictions of the troublesome toggery. The average woman has notion that she would be 6 paragon of grace in the wardrobe of Grecian belle, whereas the chances are that she would look as though she had just escaped from burning building with 8 bed quilt on in place of her sealskin saeque.
 There is quiet, methodical, business like air about everything and everybody, even to the supers in the fly gallies, who grind the drop up and down and pick out the right rope among the confusing mass of cordage, canvas and timber that stretches away dark ly to the dome. One is garrulously socia ble He sneers at bad acting, and is only passively interested in the best. He is full of "reminiscences of those whose names printed big in the bills.
 ''But the worst was Bernhardt," i" he says, talking of fractious stars. "She used to drive up at the back door at rehearsal, and then we had trouble. It took more work to get her into the building than to coax team of horses up stairway. She had to have both big doors opened wide. Then we had to lay down boards and put a carpet down from the carriage doorway into the stage Her manager had to dance around with his elbow crooked, and some one else had to have an umbrella ready or we were required to rig a canvas passageway. If things didn't go right she would just lay back in the carriage like mule and say, T am seek That meant war, and she al ways had her way.
 "The Lily was about nice any; she used to treat everybody white. Why, Lang try would talk to everybody. She liked to dance, too, and when she got through dress ing, if the orchestra playing a waltz she used to grab actor and go to dancing. Terry was good deal like her. She couldn't keep still, and was always cutting up and dancing when there was music.
 "Miss Anderson has got a little high toned, as she uses the big back door like Bernhardt, though without any fuss. She don't like the regular stage entrance. Euro pean trips are no good for actors"
 All this time the play was going along smoothly and was approaching conclusion. Finally Galatea had disco vered how much Il -f,o end Ixralf sume her original form. She made her exit into the niche where her pedestal stood uttering her piteous farewells. The audience had been finely worked up and many ladies in the audience were in tears. As soon as Miss Anderson had drawn the drapery of the niche she fingered 8 moment to say another farewell, and then dashed off into the wings with her trail over her arm. She stepped back in moment with the white wig on and mounted the pedestal. The hutter of handkerchiefs at the eyes of ladies in. the auditorium told of the effect of the scene. Before Miss Anderson was fairly on the painted box she grabbed hand mirror and powder puff, and commenced its vigorous application with the manner of lady pre- pairing for ball. Pygmalion outside was paving the ground and having very seri- ous and jim-jsmmy time with himself, all on account of Galatea. He stopped mo- ment, and then, like the heart-crushing vail of a trebly lost soul, came another piteeua farewell" The house shuddered, and some sobbed, while Mary dusted on the chalk with an energy quite her own, and her dresser arranged the drapery about her feet. Pygmalion approached the niche. At the last second Mary dropped her puff and mirror, strengthened up, inhaled deep breath, and dropped into her statuesque at titude, while Pygmalion tore apart the drapery, gave one wild look, and went down with groan like man smitten with cholera morbus. A burst of applause from the front of the house told of the success of the scene, and the curtain came down with one of the most effective tableaux ever witnessed.