Los Angeles herald., 1906-06-03
BURLESQUE IN THE
MAKING IS DIFFICULT
WORK--NOT A JOKE
SEEING GREHEARSALS DISlLLUSlON1ZES
No IntermssiOn for Food, While Hour After Hour
the MimiCry Goes 0n-March, Sing and Dance
in Street Clothes and No Audience in
the Theater for Inspiration


UP those tights"
A strident voiced man smoking a
cigar. with his coat of and beads Of
perspiration on his brow, yelled fierce
ly from his seat in the dusty and dim
orchestra circle Of the Hotchlkiss at a
small, frightened ana awed little girl
in baggy tights on the stage of that
playhouse. 1t was in the late after
noon of a long and strenuous day, and
everyone was tired. frayed out and
dlsgusted. They had been working
since 8 O'Clock, with no intermssion
for food, save what could be sent in
TO them, and this day had been but q
repetition of several others which had
lasted from 9 o'clock a.. m. until q. IN.
the following morning. And one with
this sort of existence, and it unfamiliar
at that, is apt to be bit on the ragged
edge. No wonder, then, that one COM
mits that most cardinal of all sins that
a chorus girl can be guilty of-lets
her tights be Ill fitting and baggy.
The youngster to whom this word
went, was utterly woe-begone. She was
new to the stage, that was quite evil
dent. She was frightened-an old
timer would never have let her tights
bag, and If she did she wouldn't have
been scared at stage manager.
Her First Offense
This one stepped forth shyly and
asked:
What is 1t, sir?"
Don't you know how to put on
tights?"
"N-no, sir"
Never had 'em on before, did your"
Mono. sir" with a blush
you take those lavender legs Of
yours, and show 'em to your room
mate and let her tell you how to put
your tights on so they won't wrinkle.
Gitl"
She got.
Then the chorus went on, and the
stage manager turned to the stranger
al his side and said
you've got to talk that way to 'em.
They're about all in. If [ said a kind
word, they'd break down and cry,
every one of 'em. l can simply drive
at 'en. They are almost hysterical,
and word would send 'em to the bad.
We're all worn out. After the show
tonight, I'll tell 'em all how fine they
were, and then you'll see tears-oh,
gosh!'
The youngster with the lavender
legs returned soon, and the f1imsy Gov
erings of them seemed as tight as if
they were her own skin.
Says go Ahead"
The stage manager looked, nodded
and said go ahead" The orchestra,
down in their pit, put aside their cigar
cites and picked up their instruments.
The comedians, Kolb, Dill and Dillon,
engaged in a bit of rough repartee and
the music began.
1t was a march, labor day parade.
~ A.--N-L
and a few men. Above there were two
or three men in the "flies" who were
fooling with lot of flags which hung
from poles attached to ropes, They
were adjusting them as to height and
center.
A gang of stage hands We're setting
scenery, utterly oblivious of all else
A wardrobe woman stood by one OF
the girls sewing up a rent in her
house were "in front" smoking and
criticizing.
A few electric lights burned up near
the gridiron and the garish daylight
flooded the stage, making the girls
paler and more weary looking than
ever.
The comedians finished and left the
stage-they were all in their street
clothes and no one can imagine how
=
scantily and theatrically clad mixed in
with them while the men stumbled
about among them.
Enter the Girls
A cue came and the girls from the
wings marched in, in SETS taking their
places in a group in perfect time. In
the daylight it was a tumble of hideous
colors, pasty compleXions frowzled hair
i
tarnished, the silk looked like cotton
waste, the glitter of gems was but a
farce and everything lost all hint of
illusion and fascination.
The march went on, the orchestra
booming loudly to keep down the noise
of the scene shifters. A large fiat nearly
fell on one bunch of girls, but they
were too weary to dodge, and the men
caught it in time, anyhow. The song
to the march air went without spirit
and in a mere routine.
The stage manager almost smiled.
But one of the principals didn't. He sat
in chair over in a corner and carped:
"Those girls are not half singing;
they amt" said he.
They're doing well enough" said
the stage manager. They're saving
their voices"
But they amt singing. Why, that
mouth"
The Old Timer GIared
The big one on the end" looked at
him with a glare. She was no stranger
at this sort of thing; she had been in
the business a long time; one could see
that by the way she walked with her
tights on.
The newcomers waddle and are
abashed, but she wasn't; her legs were
merely a part of the machine to her;
she had doubtless secured her place as
much on the strength of them as on her
face and her voice, and they simply
represented so many assets i'm her
stock in trade. She didn't say any
thing, but she glared. She had been
saving her voice.
"Oh, never mind" said the stage
manager; "they are all tired"
Up rose the musical instructor, big
and fat and husky.
IF they don't know their lines and
sing them" said he, with great earnest
ness. that reflects on me. That is my
business"
He and the principal talked back and
forth. II needed but break to start
something" under all that nervous
strain. But nothing happened; the