Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1889-03-12
A COMEDY In THREE ACTS.
THE NEW THEATRICAL MANAGER
AND THE THINGS HE LEARNED.

AND THE THINGS HE LEARNED.
The Pretty soubrette Who Got . Weeks
Wages in Advance and tho Leading Man
Who Carried Her or in a Coupe After
the Performance Was Over.
The Leading Man rests his cigar above the
sign. Rules such these are for ordinary
mortals, not for him He regards himself in
the looking glass with something of pleasure
in his gaze. He sits down in chair opposite
the dressing table and shouts for his servant.
This worthy rushes in at once and the even
ing's transformation scene begins.
With defines learned by long experience
the dresser removes the masters street attire.
The master, in the meantime, is engaged in
looking over the evenings correspondence.
Here is a letter from a stagestruck school
girl desiring an introduction The note Is
torn up and thrown in the corner. The Lead
ing Man has long passed that stage of his
his profession. The next letter Is a request
for an autograph. The dresser, who is a
better writer than his master, attends to this
department He takes u certain delight in
writing his masters name and deceiving the
innocent. All dressers are alike In this par
ticular.
Now comes the make up" The Leading
Man is strictly intent on business. He throws
away his cigar, looks earnestly at his rehec-
ton in the glass, rolls up his sleeves and be-
gins TO work First he covers his face with a
grease preparation which serves as ground
work for the paint. Next the eyes are pen
ciled, the wrinkles drawn, the mustache de-
fined and the wig carefully adjusted. The
work is done rapidly, years of experience are
brought into play in as few minutes. The
joining place of the wig must be hidden.
More paint is used, and as the work progresses
the entire countenance becomes transformed
to such an extent that the Leading Mans
mother would never have known her son had
she seen him. A last glance in the looking
glass and the work is over.
In the meantime the dresser has changed
the shoes, prepared the costume for the act,
and arranged all its minor details.
The door now opens and the manager
enters. His hat rests jauntily on the back
part Of his head. He smokes very strong
and singularly atrocious looking cigar; his
talk shows decided Hebraic accent
'How's the houSer is the first question
that greets his entrance. The manager
shakes his head There are volumes OF in
formation in that shake
About 500, mostly paper"
An ominous silence prevails.
The manager sits down upon trunk, kicks
vigorously aud finally pulls bunch of dra-
matte papers from an inside pocket. They
afford him little satisfaction
Them fellows don't know a good play
when they sees it," he remarks sadly. They
are precious lot of jays" The Leading
Man turns to his master encouragingly.
Newer mind, old fell Wait until we get
New York opening, that's all. They can't
do us, you know. You're a splendid loser
and game never saw better Next sea-
son we'll laugh at this. 4"
The managers countenance brightens; he
is pleased at the compliment, for it is his first
season in the business. Next year, If he lives,
he will know more but the probabilities are
that his wealth will not be a source Of great
trouble TO him. 1t is the common lot of NOR
tails. Why should we seek the exceptioni
Presently the bell rings for the rising Of
the curtain. The manager takes his place In
the prosecenium box and leans back with the
lordly air of Standard Oil magnate, pre-
pared TO applaud at the proper time and
place. The people in the body of the house
look at him curiously and envy him They
don't know all.
THE MANAGERS TRIALS.
The act is over and an adjournment to the
dressing room is again in order The leading
man is wiping his heated brow and drinking
large schooner of beer which one of the
kings guards has just brought in from the
nearest saloon. The manager enters and Is
invited TO share the feast. He drains bis
glass quickly, when knock is heard at the
door. The property man enters.
Please, sor, want tin cints for to buy
cake for the third act"
ITO buy whatin
"A cake, sor, for tho dinner scene. We
need O cake, you knows it, sor"
What, in the name Of heaven, became Of
the cake you got Yesterday Tell mo at
oncer'
'Plaze, the rats ate It last uoight, sor."
The manager swears long and loudly.
you're pack OF thieves all around Money,
money, all the time Last night the stage
baby got sick. Had TO get another; SIS out.
Now you want a cake. IL give you the
cake, but, by Cd, sir! If it goes you go too.
You hear Inc. Rats is too thin game to
work on us"
Third acts in" screams the call boy. The
leading man walks toward the stage, leaving
the manager still sitting on the dressing room
trunk, smoking vigorously. By and by there
comes a gentle tap at the door. 1t is gentle,
very gentle.
Come in" growls the manager. The door
opens little by little and the soubrette enters.
She looks charming; her tinidity is delight
full to behold
well, what's the matter nowl" says the
manager in rather Modified tones ''Oh, sir,
you're not like the rest Of the managers I've
played for; indeed you're not. II you were
wouldn't have troubled you But you see
sir, I'm all alone. Mother has gone to New
York and / only want one weeks salary In
advance to pay my board Can't have il,
pleaser The blue eyes look up SO appeal
tngly The manager cannot stand their gaze
We'll, you can have IL this once but mind,
this Is the last time. Alone ehl III walk
home with you tonight If you're lonely
"Oh, thank you, sir" is the answer, and
the maiden vanishes.
The show has now come TO an end The
audience file out 70 the music OF the orches-
ira, and the manager goes IN front to
wither with his chances the souls Of any Of
the critics who may have been in the body of
the house. Then he walks back once more
He reaches the dressing rooms. They are
empty and the gas is out. Where Is Miss
M he asks Of the back door man.
Just gone on, sor, with gint In a coupe"
Was it Mr.. M no asks, mentioning
the name of the leading man.
1T was, sor," is the answer.
sold again, guess III 60 to the hotel and
60 TO bed" sohloquized the manager. My
names Dennis, anyhow"
The play was indeed over.-Philadelphia
Times.