The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-05-16

preparations for the production of his
new play, THE Privateer." He prom
Uses that scenically it will be elaborate,
the cast strong and large number of
auxiliaries will be used.
Lew Dockstader in New York daily
and nightly goes on the stage in his
old shoes, seedy coat and hat, and in
fifteen minutes repeats every word Of
the Farmers Almanac" with a num-
Der of first-class new stories woven in
for good luck and a call.
stage superstitions, eh?" he said,
with a laugh. oh there are plenty of
them l don't take any stock in them
myself. Too sensible, you know, but
there are others. A very violent case
in point is viii Mcconnell, of Roster &
Balls You'd think he was an intelli-
gent young man to look at him. Well,
between ourselves, he is not young at
all, and his intelligence is largely a
myth. Superstitious? Why, L never
saw anything like it. He won't have
a looking glass anywhere about his
house. That explains many things, 1
may remark parenthetically
Awful case. He won't even look in
a looking glass, and can you blame
him? This is all because, when he was
super in San Francisco just before
the gold fever broke out-'4S or 40,
think it was-he dropped looking
glass on the floor that a local commit
tee had given him. 1t broke into a
hundred pieces, and he had bad luck
for thirteen years steady.
Then he never works on Friday. Su-
perstition again. He goes to the Of
flee, of course, but work?-not a bit of
it. Just Tolls around and smokes per-
fectos. Poor Will! it's question how
long his giant intellect will bear up I'M
der the strain"
Charles Hoyt's pet superstition is
well known. 1t is in the naming of
his plays. Every one he has ever writ
ten begins with the article "A" Look
| back over the list. They all begin
with AZ this or 'A' that. His lat
| est play is called "a Contented Wom-
an" Tony Pastor has a positive hor-
ror of the figure IS" An old friend
says that if the receipts at his house in
a week were $4,000 he wouldn't be
happy till he had returned the money.
Fortunately, they never get up to that
figure, and the calamity is averted.
|
| New York Herald: Imagine a mod
ern theater with such an enormous
| free list" as the roster Of "deadheads'
is politely called that there has to be a
| special clerk to look after it, Such
| was the case at the English theaters
until less than fifty years ago. The
| best known among the incumbents of
| the free privilege Office as the post
was known, was the Mr.. Massingham-
1.-The veteran Massingham"-who for
| forty years held that position at the
Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, and at the
Haymarket. He naturally became an
expert in "dead-heads," and could tell
at glance whether the applicant was
entitled to the free privilege or not
real or a sham 'deadhead
In those early days an actors salary
was paid partly in money, partly in
tickets, with benefit performance
thrown in. With the tickets and
passes he was often able to pay his
tradesmen. Drury Lane was built on
! shares, and the shareholders also had
a number of passes at their disposal.
| In the course of his long service ord
ers for free tickets, signed by many
names famous in the dramatic profess
ion, passed through Massinghams
| hands. AT his death he was found to
have retained large number of these
and rarely has a larger collection OF
theatrical autographs been disposed OF
than at the sale of his effects. Angus
| tine DAILY, who is a keen collector OF