The San Francisco call., 1908-12-20

Wv is really worth seeing
These two sightless lamps
OF mine have beheld enough to keeI
my brain busy for the rest of my nat
ural life, even if the light always re-
mains darkness for me. Besides, I dc
not allow myself to think about un-
pleasant things. I refuse to be per-
turbed, and 1 do not worry. 1 have
hopes, of course, and yet do not place
too much confidence in the illusions
that hope entertains. I know a man
who lost his hearing from the same
cause that cost me my sight-an ulcer
ated bicuspid which spread its poison
TO the nerves that were neighbor to the
twitching tooth-or. as in his case, tc
the nerves of his ear. Well, he has
. been cured. and so. think. may l. But
meanwhile ! have plenty to think about
and I have ambitions. I am like Mil
ton and Chris Buckley. They did
things in spite OF their blindness, and
50 viii l."
Thus spoke l. r. Stockwell the ur
and down comedian who has stood OF
the heights in this country with wealth
TO his name; who has bowed in the
shadows down in the valley of lost
wealth, and who now stands in total
darkness, smiling and consoling him
self with the reflection that he has seen
everything worth seeing. any way.
Stockwelrs appearance on the Ameri-
can stage this week in The Blind
Organist' interested me. He will not
have TO simulate the afiiction of the
old musician-there will be no mimicry
in his cropping. halting walk. with
hand outstretched TO grasp at the arm
Of some one TO lead him. The realism
will be complete; and it will extend
TO the unaffected humor which is as
strong as ever in the heart Of Stock
well. What's the use of kicking" he
says. 4 couldn't even see the dust
I'd raise.
Stockwell will never write a book or
the wretchedness of blindness, but he
might pen a work of the funny side OF
afaiction. He told me many stories Of
the stage and of his life behind the
footlights during the time. about two
years ago, when the world, even the
brightly lighted mimic world of the
theater, was growing dark.
One night in Oakland he was play
ing in a piece where the heroine and
he were supposed to indulge them
selves in a mild Irritation. She stood
at the door just before leaving the
stage and smiled at him Then she
dropped her fan. and he-the rascal
was supposed to pick it up with great
galiantry and grace. The fan was
white and made, at rehearsals, a vivid
contrast with the dark carpet on which
i fell He never failed to find the fan
first performance saw beautiful white
rug at the feet of his lady love She
dropped the fan upon the rug, and III
was all over for Comedian Stockwell.
The grace and poise of gallantry ran
out Instead there was feverish haste
nervous fumbling and many words not
down in the script. Where in hell is
that fan? Somebody get it for me,
implored Stockwel in his finest stage
whisper super from the wings
picked it from the white rug, gave il
10 StockwelI, who gave it to the fair
lady. who by this time was in a state
Of hysterical collapse. The rug went
back to the property room and was
traded for a black bearskin.
To have been the companion of John
Mccullough, he Of t'the high Roman
fashion; to have hobnobbed with Ed
win Booth and Lawrence Barrett; to
have discovered Maude Adams and TO
have toured the world with Nance
O'Neil: to have been associated the
atrically with Rose coghlan and the
Barrymores, Blanche Bates. Henry Z.
Dfxey and the host of other players
familiar to this and the last generation
Of theater goers is to have wealth of
memories and subject for thought and
reminiscence.
Stockwell delyed little for me in
this mine, and in the brief time Of the
interview brought forth so much of in
terest that q book would scarcely con-
e,in the matter.
There was Maude Adams; for in
stance. Maude Adams. who is our
dearly beloved actress. She of Alice,
who sat by the fire, and of Peter Pan.
who is a dream person come true.
Naude Adams worked for Stockwell for
three years for Sc q week. During all
that time Maudc showed no signs of
-enius. She was not exactly pretty