The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1901-05-12

of the matinee girls. There were other
1 stage heroes that the women raved over,
| but there has been none since the days of
| Harvey Montague that had such deVot-
| Cd and enslaved following as Maurice
| Barrymore For him they threw con,
ventionalities to the winds, and braved
| public opinion only to get smile from
| their Idol
| Barrymore was gifted with the physique
| of a Hercules, and he needed II to with
stand as long as he did the reckless pace
| he set out upon. For years he has been
| known in Chicago and in other great
| cities where there exists a bohemian eie-
| ment as a prince of good fellows. In ad-
dition 10 his physical attractions he had
| the manners of a superb gentleman, a
| brilliant and ready wit, and one of the
! Nindest hearts and most prodigai natures
| that man was ever gifted with.
| OF Barrymore wit many examples are
current. He had a great admiration for
| the fair sex. Once at the Lambs Cub
in Now York he was going into ecstacies
| over a new star. when one of his auditors
interrupted him with:
But, Barry the old damesH'
This is the only flannel! he SAID.
Those were only matches.
Once wine agent intruded upon party
of which Barrymore was one fhe agent
told Barrymore he was man OF good
taste. and all that and wound up by say
ing:
"When you want a bottle of wine in fu-
ture will yon1 not crafty me by ASKING
why. Of course" answered Rarry-
more, most graciously, Il shall be delight
ed to ask for YOUR wine. But, heavens.
Suppose they should have it?''
Friends of Barrymore recently enjoyed a
little witticism al his expense by Angus
had been merciIessly picking. flaws in the
actors drama until the good-natured Bar
~ WINGED.
oh, come, Gust he interrupted, don't
be quite so hard If it's not an Alabama
Just remember that l wrote it in week.
Did you, Barry2" retorted Thomas.
Then you must have loafed.
Steele Mackaye diagnosed Barrymore as
an actor who in order to become famous
needed only a great SORROW To Mack
aye he invariably replied that he and
sorrow were still strangers. once, how
ever, he went to Mackaye with long
face, melancholy brow low and tremu-
lous tones, and, choking back a sob, said:
Dear old Steele, when you made that
testing prediction about me and sorrow
you had no idea how soon it would come
true, and you cannot be surprised that
now come to you for your heartfelt sym
pathy. Steele! Steele! my friend, have
broken my pet fingernail!'
Admirers of Barrymore viii remember
his habit of lighting scores of cigarettes
during a performance, and have. OF
course. supposed this was a part of the
business of the play. But 1t was
business that Barrymore injected from
the author The actor was seldom letter
perfect in his parts, and his memory oil
late years, was not to be depended upon.
When I'm at a loss for q word, Bar
rymore explained to friend, who asked
him about the habit. Il always light a
cigarette 1t gives me chance TO think
Barrymore undoubtedly had to think
very often.
SCANLAN's BRIEF CAREER.
Ten years ago Billy Scanlan was an
other stage idol. The matinee girl didn't
rave about him as she did about Barry
more, but the women and children, and
a great majority Of the men, held him
dear TO their hearts To the older genera
ton of piaygoers the name of Seaman
brings back memories of "Peek-a-Boo,
My Nellies Blue Eyes, and others of
the melodious songs that he sang, while
many a mother rocked her baby to sleep
with ''By-By, Baby. By-By.
Scanlan'S pace was of the mSteoric or
der. In his life of forty-two years he
compres sed enough action for three lives
of a like duration He never wanted TO
sleep. Gambling was his mania; NO soon
er was his performance over than away
Seaman would rush to the nearest gamb-
ling den. He had this vice developed in
it's most exaggerated form, and, once
seated before a faro, roulette, or poker
table, would remain until it was time for
him to return to the theatre for the next
performance. In ten years Seaman is SAID
to have lost over 100000. The exhaustion
attendant on such a life led Seaman to
the use of stimulants, and these quickly
brought on the end.
In all the years during which Seaman
was pursuing this wild rdreer, his patient
and devoted wife was unceasing In her
efforts to save her husband. She was
pathetic figure at every theatre in which
her custom to go to the theatre, and after
the performance endeaVor to get him
home and in bed.
Often she took him in carriage and
started for hotel On the way he would
stop the vehicle, telling her to wait
moment, and then would dive into a faro
bank and remain until the place closed,
obiivious of the fact that she was waiting
for him At other times they would go
to supper after a performance and he,
making an excuse to leave her for q mo-
ment. would not return at all.
So great a hold did gambling have upon
him that the summer before his new play,
Mavourneen, was produced he could not
be persuaded to leave New York even for
his manager and his wife that he would
write his songs and study his part, he put
of the work from day TO day until two
weeks before the initial performance.
Then he sat down and tried to study.
To his terror and Amusement he could
not memoriZe a line. The pace that kills
had been followed so constantly that his
mind had lost its grasp. hysicianS adj
vised an entire change in his method Of
life. But he was unequal to the task. He
gambled and drank to the last. In Ma
vourneen he was often unable 10 sing the
songs which he had written. At last on
Christmas Eve, 1891, the crisis came at
the Fourteenth Street Theatre, New York.
He stumbled TO the footlights at the end
Of the performance bearing in his hands
floral harp which some Of his admirers
had given him.
They say" he said to the astonfshed
audience. that / am out of my mind,
but that isn't true. My head is all right,
and so is my heart He began TO cry
then. And there was no performance Of
"MavOurneen" next day.
a few months later they took him to the
insane asylum Attendants there tell
many pathetic anecdotes about him. Once
an Italian organ grinder played Sweet
Molly, o" under his window. He recog-
nized his song and the recollection for a
moment made him rational. The poor fell
low threw himself on couch and sObbed.
few months after his arrival at the
BloOmingdale Asylum his sister Sadie
died. He was very fond Of Sadie. But
when Mrs. Seaman told him of Sadie's
death he laughed gleefully IN her face.
But Seaman did not forget, and a few
dies grave. So Mrs. Seaman and the
physician took him 70 Calvary Cemetery.
On the way over he repeated but one
sentence: Roses and green leaves for
Sadie: roses for poor Sadie" They
bought him a large bunch and he laid
them tenderly on the newly-sodded
mound. Poor Sadie. - he said; even
you had to leave me, and now I'll be all
alone" In February, 1898, he died.
EAnIETs RESTING PLACE.
An unmarked grave in little cemetery
near Albany. N. Y, is the last resting
place of another stage idol-Fritz Emmett
Some famous men have found a last
home in this little cemetery. Chester A.
Arthur, President Of the United States,
and Thurlow Weed. who for years was
dominant figure in Empire State politics,
are buried there, but for one visitor who
asks to see these great mems graves 100
ask for that of Fritz" In summer the
1,