The Brunswick times. [volume] (Brunswick, Ga.) 188?-1900, 1897-08-15
IT WAS A REAL FIGHT
A PIECE OF STAGE REALISM THE GAL.
LERY DIDN'T APPRECIATE.

force him to believe that Barnum said
it all when he declared that "the Ameri-
can people like to be humbugged. ;"
They will applaud the bogus, the make
believe, and allow the genuine-or, to
use worse bit of slang, "the real thing"
to go off the scene without SO much
as "a hand.
Fine frenzies in the dramatic business
are waste of energy. so I am told by
couple Of actors, and here is the story,
tale of how two ambitious ones gave
to the exasperating public perhaps the
greatest bit of stage realism every IRE
sented and received for their pains-and
bruises-an awful silence and a few
pointed remarks from the gallery critics.
/ forget what the play was, and who
the actors were has nothing whatever to
do with the matter at this time. They
are both stars today, however. One did
heroic parts and the other the ''Ha, ha:
I'll steal the girl. :" They had played i'll
several pieces together and were friends.
One was believer in real tears and all
that goes to constitute living the part,
while the other believed that at 10 time
should the actor allow the lines or stu
ations of the piece to make him forget
himself.
In the piece which they were playing
the hero and the villain meet at a crit
ical moment and fight In case the hero
failed to settle his opponent-well, he
got his salary for doing it, SO it had to
occur.
The fight was rehearsed and was
made to look real to startling degree.
The gallery used to 60 wild and the
whole house resounded with the ap-
plause, but this did not suit the villain,
who believed in realism. 1t was his be-
lief that real fight would make hit.
/ believe mentioned the fact that they
were friends. That was true. They were
up to the moment where one, in mo-
ment of indiscretion, attempted to crit
icise the other. OF course everybody
knows that when that occurs all friend
ship ceases-between actors. Of course
there were coarse remarks passed, and
the one who believed in realism and be-
ing an actor off and on finally folded his
arms and said, "When and where?"
Fright here, if you like. It's short
job anywhere.
"You think so, Ell? Well, it shall &C.
cur in our fight scene tonight. For once
the public shall see what they pay for.
The plot of the play necessitates that
you vanquish me. We shall see whether
it is so short job. "
The worst of the quarrel was that
they We're both athletes, good wrestlers
and boxers and willing.
The play dragged slowly that night
until the fight scene.
The hero's line, cit is either you or
I, Reginald Marshallson, was answered
by-in an undertone-"You bet it is,
and III mark you so you won't play for
a month.
Instead of going to clinch, as usual,
they both spared about for all opening.
They were too long i'll finding it, and
from the gallery a critic shouted:
"W'at's de matter wild youse? Why
don We git togedder?'
Then they both led and landed with
a wallop. Then they clinched. The viii
lain back heeled the hero, and down
they went.
Fight like man, not like dog"
whispered the hero in hoarse tones.
The villain allowed him to get ON his
feet, and they began to spar again.
About the time the gallery got restless
the hero landed right on the villains
eye that sent him reeling. Had he reel
ed the other way all would have been
well, as the hero would have gone on
with the piece, but as the hero crossed
the stage toward him the realist rushed
and knocked him down with swing
ing left.
Now, by all the laws of melodrama
the villain at no time should get the
better of the hero in personal encoun-
ter. The gallery knew that and roundly
Kissed the hero for so far forgetting
himself. The stage manager knew it
and ran to one of the wings to prompt
him. The hero knew it, and he went
back at the villain for keeps.
They fought for five minutes all over
the stage. They knocked down papier
mache trees, a stoop to house and
fence, besides each other The whole
company stood in the wings watching
the mill, and the manager cursed and
made awful threats in stage whisper,
but somehow the audience was not i'm
pressed. The gallery yelled: eyer
fakin. Why don't ye fight?" The bal
cony, from which on previous nights
waves of approval had broken, sat quiet
bored and su1len. The parquet, always
willing to follow the lead from above
on previous occasions, now sat glum,
waiting until the very bad imitation of
fight should end.
The hero fought desperately. He must
win. The plot of the piece worked out
from his victory, but the villain clinched
and fought as he had never dreamed of
fighting. In spite of warnings from the
wings he refused to be knocked senseless
and allow the hero to go on and rescue
the girl.
At last the stage manager threatened
them with the curtain, and the hero
with one mighty effort freed himself
from the grasp of the realist and, rush
ing toward the house i'll which the
heroine was supposed to be, cried with