The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-10-20


last wins her by proving its sincerity,
| is set forth engrossingly in Kiein's not
astonishing new drama
! X X X
| The complication resultant from
second marriage which Edward Peple
| exposed i'm his new drama of The Sill
yer Girl" did not concern the children,
but the husband and the wife. In fact,
| the scheme was no newer than the IA
| miliar triangle of modern cran2. The
| son and daughter of a Nevada mill
| owner had no more 70 DO with the plot
than to interrupt it from time to time
| by fiuttering through very OBVIOUS and
| silly love scenes. the one with young
| governess who had been eagaGe1 TO 1e-
| fine his hoydenish sister for eastern
society. and that sister with an Eng
| lish lawyer whom she met when she
| came to New York with her family to
| luxuriate in wealth from the Silver
| Girl mine. During TWO acts everything
| happened Just as The audience fore
| saw. with the characters kept in no.
ton by polished villain endeavorin9
| to tempt the young wife from marital
| faithfulness: so it was not blase Ia
think / knew just what was going to
, occur when the suave New Yorker ard
| the Nevada wife planned To clope after
the opera. on the very night when the
| husband had gone west To try TO save
| his fortune from ruin through "A COM
| plication in the title of the mine Of
| course. he missed his train. Then somc
! of us yawned.
| But Mr.. Peple had something new
for his third act. The husband re-
| turned, and the young goverress. who
| was to wed his son. told the plan Of
the elopement, that he might illustrate
| it, He produced from his valise two re-
| volvers. The adventurer and guilty.
| intentioned wife were heard coming
| The husband switched off the electric
| lights and concealed himself. The sit
| uation was tense. Again We doubted
Mr.. Peple. But commonplace arGu-
/ ment between the culprits was inter
rupted by the switching on of the
/ lights and the emergence of the bag
| gard husband. Then came the scene
| that will be responsible COR whateve"
| success this sober drama by the author
of the comedy of 1.-THE Prince Chap"
may achieve. The husband sent his
wife from the room. Then he gave to
| the seducer a fair chance in a choice
of the pistols. He paced off the dis
| lance for duel. He announced that
when the clock struck the quarter
hour both were to shoot. Again the in
| terest was tense. The men faced each
| other, weapons in hand. Finally
clock which was in the room to which
the wife had tremblingly retired,
struck the time. A breathless moment,
and then the other clock. facing us
| chimed the signal There was a shot
only one. The villain had fired. The
| husbands hand had hung at his side.
But the adventurer had missed him.
Man" he cried in intense misery
| why didn't you shoot straight"
And then the wife Mortified at the
report of the pistol. rushed in. reveal
| ing her true love by calling distracted
| ly for the safety of her husband. and
not for the man who would have been
her lover.
| There is so much of indiscriminate
| hurrah over every David BeloscO play
and David Warfield role that censure
would be a welcome relief to monoto-
ny: yet these two Davids have won
another joint victory, and there's no
denying it. Even those spendthrifts
who paid ten 10 twenty dollars apiece
for seats may have felt that they got
their moneys worth on the opening
| evening; for there was q new theatre
20 see, too. and therefore, taking it al
| together, big dramatic occasion. Be
| lascos vogue is so great that he could
pick fifteen hundreds persons to fill his
| house out of as many thousands who
tickets at raised prices through bogus
peddlers. nor let the real dealers get
| them. Applications had TO be made by
| letter, and tickets called for at the box
| office, if allotted. Yet l heard of two
seats resold for $40 to a man to whom
| that price meant not more than 80
cents. The assemblage, as a whole
| though. was of Belasco's own selection
and TO enjoy that satisfaction cost him
! fhnIIc1nHG Of of he
| tween the houseful at the advertised
| prices and those which might have
| been obtained.
Our civil war had been over only
| tWenty-one years, and so the Grand
Army posts which Yves Bigelow COM
/ manded, in an Indiana village, was all
alive with active veterans. Yves heart
| knew but two things to love-that post
| and his adopted son Robert. They
were the sole objects of his pride and
ambition. He was a bachelor. with q
] tender memory of girl whom a rival
had wooed away from him. and her
| eyes looked into his, so he fancied.
when her sons met his fond gaze. He
| cherished the boy, believed he was a
! genius, and implicitly trusted in his
honor. AS to the Grand Afmy-well.
not other institution on earth was, to
| his way or thinking, so great or so
good. Thus. Yves Bigelow was guile
less, gentle, homely lovely country viii
| lager. L don't suppose he was nearly
all that when Pauline Phelps and Ma
| rian Short first wrote him into a play.
l can imagine that he developed his
| winsome qualities slowly under Belas-
cos fostering care until he became the
character now introduced to New York
| in "A Grand Army Man" So Belasco
| is not the author. If you had seen the
two ladies' play, as performed several
years ago somewhere in New England.
and were thus qualified 70 decide how
! much Of the re-made composition is
| the mans. probably you wouldn't d.
| vide il into thirds. but quarters, and
award two of those to him. Belasco is
a dexterous manipulation. but he is also
| an expert originator. Yes, indeed, he
! is the author of "A Grand Army Man"
x X X
The other masterful maker of success
| for this play is David Warfield. A
/ dozen years ago. this Warfield, COM
/ monty called Dave. was wearing big
false bare feet in a concert hall bur-
| lesque: Also the scraggy beard of n
! scared Jew of New York's ghetto type.
/ He was regarded as well worth 5000 to
/ $500 a week to make people laugh. But
! he was far from contented. He had
| come from San Francisco with hope
| TO become a dignified actor. He be-