The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-09-03

terrain people for an entire evening. The
modern play does not demand this. Once
teach a Eood-lookiug woman or hand
some man how 10 90 on and OF the stage,
TO dress well, and the play is not the
I thing; IL Is only the stage picture. People
are being bored by this, and IN despera-
ton they turn 10 variety shows, and,
thank heaven in time they win return
TO meiourama, where the soubrette sings
because she is happy; where the leading
lady tries to picture what an angel In the
form OF woman can be, and where the
pest OF humanity IS made most attrac-
| i've. Madam, I went to HobOken the
other day TO see a play Of this kind re-
hearsedl was willing, madam, to cross
the river for that purpose, and | trust
tnat when 1t IS produced my young
friends here will attend. 1t Is called
The District FAIR And while nothing
is absolutely new in this world, it brought
before US our old-time favOrites and it
made us all feline, madam, an old ac-
tor, among the rest-that 1t is worth
while TO be good and to do what is right.
The hero had been misled. but the hero
inc loved him through all his trouble, and
the villain, who of course committed his
vile acts because of his love for her, was
properly punished
THE VILLAIN WAS WE'LL DRAWN
and well acted, not Shylook, but man,
who, above his love Of money, held his
love for woman. OF course, madam, as
is proper, he has given a chance to redeem
himself in the last act, and he threw
aside his ill-gotten gains for the sake of
the woman, and, after the curtain was
dropped, we all believed he had become a
wiser and better man. OF course, being
up TO date, there was introduced into this
a race scene, with real horses, and con-
TESS, madam, that my heart Went out TO
the noble jockey who refused to be bribed
by the villain, and who rode manfully
toward fortune and to gain the love
of the soubrette. 1t is true, mad
am, that in the olden times we
did not have real horses, but
even |, madam, enjoyed the excitement of
the race. I do not object to the fine stage
sitbings Of to-day, though distinctly re-
member when, at the Baltimore Museum
we were playing the Forty Thieves,
there was only room enough for nine of
them to come on the stage; so, when the
ninth got there, John Owens used to call
out: Let the rest remain in the wood.
Nothing remains in the wood nowadays;
but still it is not that, madam, that l OBJ
ject to, it is the mario wness of the actor
himself He is not willing to be Booth
tonight and Iago tomorrow night; to
play Claude the next night, and come on
In bowling farce the night after; and,
madam, the man who calls himself an
actor should be able to do all Of these"
THE oLD-TIME ACTOR SANG WELL.
The dear old chap proved that he could,
for when we all went to a quiet little res
taurant to get some supper. he gave US
recitation from "Hamlet,n he sang a
comic song, he recited the casket scene
from the Merchant of Venice" and then
did a funny old monologue which Che
said had been taught him by the father
of the Bateman children Both the boys
and | were inclined to be a little quiet, for
we felt the influence of some one who had
lived and known much Of life before and
behind the footlights, and somehow he
seemed the ghost Of a lost hope. | won
dered where was the woman he had
loved wondered where were his old
friends, and l thought of the quiet Gem
etery near Baltimore where sleeps so
quietly many of the old actors he talked
about, and who were old on the stage
when Edwin Booth was a boy. wondered
if he weren't tired of living, and it seemed
to me as if all the actors ! had ever seen
were coarsened by comparison with his
gentle manners.
He told us how, after Owens had
bought his country place, he used to offer
his friends champagne and milk, and beg
them to take champagne because it cost
him less. And he told us how he had re-
membered seeing Edwin Booth around
his fathers dressing room; he talked of
Laura Keene as if she were q young girl,
but always before me there was picture
of that quiet graveyard. After our sup
per was over, he walked home with me,
and begged him to come and breakfast
with me some day and tell me about
srme old photographs that l had-photo-
graphs of great actors of long ago. He
bowed good night to me as if l had been q
queen, and he the prince who recognized
my charm.
THE CURTAINS FINAL FALL.
After he had gone / thought, "What
does it mean to live beyond your time2 1t
means to see your friends gone, yourself
forgotten. II means to realize that the
world is beyond you, and that there
seems no place for you" And as
| thought there came before my eyes the
picture of a grave stone on which was
carved: after life's fitful fever he
sleeps we'll" and as in vision, heard a
voice calling out, What, no therel' And
the old actor, approaching to the center
of the stage, said: Cay and gallant
greeting, my lord, welcome theep' And
the visitor who came was called Death !;
but there is no other so gladly greeted by
one who has outlived his time and his
generation.
And thus it will be with the old actor
who, Tor one evening made the wheels of
life turn back fifty years, and let one
woman realize what it meant to BIO alone
in hope, in Thoughtful alone in the
world. That was what the old actor
taught BAB.