Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1909-01-29
TheWOrIdM Moves On

w Y L WIS aulOunCCu Lila 1uOIu-
ton Thorne-his real name was Tim
othy Jenkins-was to leave the stage
to Engage in commercial pursuits, not
only the theatrical profession, but all
true lovers of the play, stood agog.
Thorne, though but twenty-three years
old, had risen to a high rank as an
actor. And now, on the very threshold
of a brilliant career, he was to sink out
of sight In trade.
No reason was given for this re-
markable step. which was known only
to Thorne himself and one other. He
loved a strict member of the Presby-
terrain church, and she would not mar
ry an actor. Forced to make a choice
between her and his profession, he
chose her.
Thorne resumed the name of Jen-
kins, married and went to Australia,
where he accumulated a fair fortune.
Thirty years after his marriage he re-
turned to America on business, leaving
his wife and family In Melbourne. On
the steamer he met a company of play
ers, from whom he borrowed a num-
Der of printed plays with which to
amuse himself on the voyage. Among
them were several by which he had
won fame. Before the voyage was
over he was eager to act.
This relapse troubled him. His wife
had lived In fear of 1t all their mar
ried life and had parted with him re-
%luctantly, fearing that when away
from her influence he might be tempt
ed to return to the stage. True, she
had lost her prejudice against it, but
considered that any such return would
be unwise. Her husbands business
needed his attention, and the rowing
life Of an actor would break up their
home. For this reason she had kept
him away from the theater.
But the more Jenkins read plays the
more he became fascinated with his
former life. Judging from some of
those that had beer written since he
left the boards, he was of opinion that
playwrights were dying out. At any
rate, he did not consider their efforts
equal to those Of former days. He
found little or nothing dramatic In any
of them and pronounced them dull and
talky.
When Jenkins reached America he
saw posters announcing that certain
managers would present" certain the
atrical stars. He wondered If talent
had sunk so low that the most prom
inent players must be presented by
some man who couldn't himself take
a walking part. In New York he found
three theaters to one that existed when
he left the country. Perhaps compe-
tition was killing the business.
On the evening of his arrival at New
York a man entered his hotel whose
face was familiar to him; Aren't you
Tom Abercrombie? 2" ssYes, but you
have the advantage of me-" '"Thorn-
ton Thorne." 'You don't mean it!
Haven't seen you since you were play
ing Hamlet here at Wallack's." II
wish l were playing there now"
you couldn't; it's torn down. But
his eye suddenly lighted-"I was a
ticket seller when / knew you. Now l
run seven theaters. l have Hamlet
on this very night at one of them, and
the Dane is in bed with grip. How
would you like to try it?"
There was a terrible struggle in the
breast Of Mr.. Jenkins, and he fell
before a desire to again be Hamlet.
He would show these degenerate peo-
pie the real Dane. He knew the part
he had never forgotten it-no need
for rehearsal. He would be ready at
the rise of the curtain. What a pleas
ure to galvanize IN audience worn out
with poor plays and poor acting!
He found a meager audience, but
was told that Shakespeare had gone
much out of fashion with the average
theater goer. Nevertheless there were
those In the theater who loved Hamlet.
When he began his lines people looked
surprised. He soon saw that he must
win his audience, something he had
not been obliged to do in bygone days.
At the end of the first act the man
ager approached him and said:
"Great Scott, mani Your Hamlet has
grown a quarter of a century older"
"How?" Don't know, but there's some
thing musty about it. Nobody does it
that way now"
Jenkins went back for the second
act puzzled. In the third he made a
supreme effort. All was of no avail.
No one in the theater had ever seen
Hamlet act that way, and no one want
ed to view any such performance. Be
fore the play was finished the theater
was nearly empty. The star staggered
to the g%reenroom, where the manager
braced him with a glass of grog.
Was 1t not jenkins instead of the
audience that needed to be galvanized?
The next night the manager took
the fallen star the rounds of the thea
ters. In nearly all the plays he saw
was something apropos to the times,
having, he thought, no place on the
stage, and most of them rotten as
he expressed it, though he noticed an
ntr1noo ~ tho OAorcn tobias nf tha