Omaha daily bee., 1897-05-30
wxxuaaxs3,,,rs,rns,-ss-wu.z,~xrD-
ADJUSTMENTS.
a@aENITx7aIafHiE EsnGs;aMaE1H.g

Few people, sitting in the comfortable
stalls Of a theater, ever realize or appre-
ciate the mechanism of the stage which goes
to make up a perfect performance. In fact
sitting before a carefully rehearsed, we'll
dressed and well-acted play, it would seem
as If, after all, acting was not so difficult
and that, given good lines, good clothes and
the proper environment, almost any one
might give an acceptable performance 1t
all looks smooth and easy from the front"
but the thin ice sometimes skated over and
the chasms bridged would, If known. cause
the average theater goer to marvel: the
nervous strain upon the actor is immense
From beginning to end the play must move
on like clock-work, the result of many long
hours of careful rehearsing, fthe actors be-
ing dependant upon one another for every
thing-their cues. business, entrances and
exits single slip will often seriously en-
parrass the entire company, and that slip
may occur at any moment, for, after all
player Is only human, and mistakes will
happen in the best regulated families.
Otis Skinner tells an amusing story of an
experience of this kind during the original
run of "A Night Off," which, 1t will be
remembered, Augustin Daily produced some
years ago. John Drew and Mr.. Skinner had
one scene together, in which Drew told the
story OF breach of promise suit that had
been brought against him. He was sup
posed to carry in his pockets the letters
bills and other documentary evidence per-
tanning to the case, and in a large pocket
book a lock of hair, which he spoke of as
Exhibit Al" rose. Exhibit b." a ring
Exhibit c." and one certain letter, "Ex-
hibit d."
The night in question:" said Mr.. Skinner,
Drew rushed on the stage in one of his
happiest moods, drew a chair toward him.
and began to tell his story, mentioning the
various properties which he was about to
show. He put his hand in his pocket. There
was nothing there. Then, one after another
he went through all of his pockets keeping
up meanwhile the conversation and finding
nothing. Then he leaned over and said to
me- soto voce old man, 1 haven't got
them. I've got to go after them. And then
aloud In his airiest tone: Dear me, I've
quite forgot them. / must have left them In
my oyercoat pocket. I'll go and fetch them.
Really, l won't be moment Mr. Drews
dressing room was on the other side of the
stage. down a flight of stairs, quite at the
end of long corridor. The moment heard
hia retreating footsteps, / knew 1t would be
fully five minutes beforo he could return.
started in. II remember with some airy
persifage on the carelessness OF young mems
leaving things In their overcoat pockets
Then talked about the stage and solioquzed
about breach OF promise suits. / was sup
posed to be man with past, and my wife
YVES supposed to be very jealous OF that past
! spoke guardedly of that. There was piano
on the stage. Finally in desperation / sat
down and played a few chords and Just as
was at my wits ends, heard the footsteps
rapidly approaching, which told me that
Drew had found his exhibits and was re-
turning. i don't think was ever so glad
to see any one as | was him. But had
saved the scene, for only those In the audi
ence who were familiar with the play had the
slightest idea that anything was wrong"