The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1904-01-17


fering 2 portion Of the income he has
wasted in the purchase of ennui. Descend
ing into Covent Garden at a matutinal
hour. he acts providence to the miscel-
laheOus crowd whom the chances of work
or mendicancy attract. That much adj
vantage to others should attend the thrust
ing into the hands of loafers and cadgefs
of sovereigns and flyers was not TO be ex-
pected. AS a disciplinary process for him
self, however, the experiment is a success,
and at the close Of d rather short proba-
ton the earl finds himself in the way of
becoming a hero. Thus regenerated. he
claims and wins the love OF a woman of his
own rank" Another writer says the piece
is composed of the milk of human kindness
aerated with the soda water of wit.
: :
Owen Wister's play. 1.-The Virginian,"
with that excellent young actor, Dustin
Farnum. in the leading role, seems to be
one of the financial successes of the New
York season The critics do not think much
of the play from artistic viewpoint, but
all agree that it is well acted. John Corbin.
the entertaining reviewer of the New York
Times, comments as follows:
owen Wister has put on record the
slight value he sets upon criticism by re-
calling a Quatrain which, recounting several
catastrophies of bucolic life, ends with
those stupendous lines
The COW is in the hammock
But what does il all matter!
we had meant TO Sermonize on the anna
flourish technique of The Virgnian' and TO
pay passing tribute to it's beautiful real
ISM It's static melodrama and, above all,
TO the excellence Of the leading actor. But
this echOlng refrain mas obtruded itself in
stead:
The Plot is in the entr'a ctes,
The Dialogue is chatter,
But Farnum's the Virginian-
So what does it all matter.'
+ + +
MY transforming days." said Sir Henry
Irving recently seems very distant, yet
very dear TO me now 1 recall with particu-
lar pleasure melodrama of crime in high
life wherein 1 transformed the English prov
inces for two very successful seasons. My
part called, in the first act for a dark
stage. In this darkness l fought with an old
earl, threw him heavily, and when he did not
rise after the loud thud of his fall 1 cried
out, Great heavens What have 1 done%
Usually the scene impressed and moved my
audience tremendously, but / remember one
night In Birmingham when a coster, with
one little wittcism, turned my cutlery and
| the darkness and the old earls tragic fall
| into ridicule and laughter. / have never
| seen that cOster, but | remember his voice
well. 1t was a slow, dry voice, like Mark
| Twain's, and ii manifested itself just after
| The old earl had dropped heavily. usual.
| and had cried, Great heavens! What have
/ done? when the coster spoke up, Strike
J light young Teller, and we'll have a look "
+ =
A. B. Walkley, writing in the London
Times of the performance of Sarah Bern
hardt in La Sorciere," thus aptly de-
scribes the relationship between the French
actress and her favorite dramatist:
"Victorien Sardou, who learned stage
carpentry under Montigny in the ffties,
has learned many other things since then
among them the art of fitting fve-act
play TO the exact measure of Mime. Sarah
Bernhardt. Most of the plays which Nine.
Sarah Bernhard carries about the civilized
and semi-civilized world, for the gratifica-
ton of principallties and powers, are from
NJ. Sardou'S pen. There is not a gesture of
the actress, not note Of her voice, not
variation OF her celebrated smile or of ner
no less celebrated shrek, that the play
wright has not studied and duly provided
| for. On the other hand, the actress was
| obviously born 10 talk Sardou. and, for all
we know to the contrary, to think Sardou.
| 1t is perfect, a unique, combination,
| marriage of true minds And this spiritual
and intellectual union is now enjoying what
may be called a fresh honeymoon in La
| Sorciere.' "
Clyde Fitch, who writes a new play
| seemingly, every month and succeeds in
| getting all of them produced in the best
| New York theaters, advises young play
wrights to interest the actors in their
| plays. "Once get an actor or actress inter-
| ested in your work, "he said the other day
| in interview, land you may rest assured
I, that the managers will hear of il, and if
| the managers have faith in the actors they
/ will very likely take hold of the play. It's
| the hardest thing in the world for a new
| playwright to get any attention from a
| manager otherwise. Most of the managers
| are simply impregnable. They seldom read
! plays themselves, but employ readers
| gain counter-who are usually failures
| themselves as playwrights and whose judg-
ment is worthless. As result the good
| plays are lost with the bad ones. There is
scarcely successful play to-day that has
, not been turned down by several man
| agerial firms"
Stage people, for the most part, much
given to whims and superstitions and are
known to have made enemies for life of
those who have violated their beliefs on
these points. When two players are dress
ing together in the same room, if one in a
moment of lax thought were to whistle it is
| a sure sign that one or the other will lose
his job before long: This superstition is
| observed by many intelligent players. TAX
ing squint through the 'peep-hOle" in the
| curtain on an opening night portends grief
TIC the production, and speaking the last line
OF the play-known as the ag'-at rehear-
| sal likeswise augurs no favorable auspices
for the undertaking. Black cats crossing
| the stage, or, in fact, any cat crossing the
stage, is very evil sign indeed.
|
Finley Fauley is a New York newspaper
| man who is a hustler if there ever was
one. He is a police reporter on one of the
big metropolitan dailies, and, although a
very busy worker, he managed recently TO
write a thrilling melodrama called After
Midnight" which is proving a winner in
the popular price houses. And now he sends
| word that he has written a novel founded
| on his play and bearing the same title-a
| Uh he
wrote in two weeks, working on ii at night
| after his regular newspaper duties were
| finished. And he still lives
|
| Mrs. lie Moyne who has very properly
| "shelved" that poor play, Lady Berinthia S