The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1909-06-27

to shed them now. For q quarter of a
century the noisier of the Russell
brothers has conVuIsed audiences with
ms fearful description OF Little Eva's
death in Uncle Toms Cabin" crying
out at last, i never saw such a sad play
for so cents" George Beban and Mr..
Darcy have taken the joke seriously and
given vaudeville audiences the saddest
play for 80 cents easily TO be imagined.
ElabOrately staged and employing q
numerous company, The Sign of the
Rose Is, nevertheless, in only one act.
IL possesses woe enough for five. Like
a powerful essence of beef juice, it COM
presses tears enough for three hours
into forty minutes. True to popular
melOdrama, it starts with a comedy
scene However, il is the man of the
cOnversing couple who is Arranging the
flowers, instead Of the traditional chstty
housemaid. He loves the pretty cashier
IN the florist shop. so we are enabled TO
concentrate our attention on the story
unraVelled along with his proposal of
marriage. He is not really a clerk in
the store in which we find him, but a
detective He is searching for an
Italian kidnaper
The distracted parents of the missing
little blonde girl presently appear and
make it known that they viii pay any
thing to recover their child. The father
going away on a new clue, the mother
remains i'm the shop to hand over the
amount demanded by the kidnaper, who
is TO be identified by the Sign of the
Rose" As he accepts the money the
sleuth will clap the handouts on him.
The agony of the mother has well pre-
pared the audience for the flood of
tears TO come with the star, has served
as a sort Of trial heat Of believing. A
broken, weeping Italian appears at the
fiowery window, gazes lOngingly I'm a
while, and finally ventures to come into
the ornate shop. When ne unwraps
from his handkerchief all the money he
owns in the world-40 cents-and wants
to buy with it just one rose everything
is over. The more tender of the audi
ence simply give up then and there,
bury their faces in damp handkerchiefs
and see no more of the play at all.
No one questions for a moment that
the rose is for his dying child; no one
who has ever been a child and Spoken
a piece" could doubt it. But STOP The
harsh detective doubts. Perhaps he
never was a child. He is the f1intiest.
cruellist detective one could fancy. So
good an actor as Frank Sheridan has
been engaged to impersonate him, so
there may be no doubt as to his i'm
pressive hardness. The Italian tells
him his story. 1t is a very long story,
very narrowing, and evidently equally
delightful to the actOr-authOT, who tells
il admirably, and to the listeners, who
fall one by one into the very ecstacy Of
woe. 1t starts in Italy, brings our hero
and the fair Rosa over to New York,
and leads us sObbing through her
motherhood, decline and death.
But there is the baby. We are mo-
mentarily cheered up, only to be laid
lpVx-h nv in vs-Ha no a fce
that the happy child, singing at her in
nOCent play, has been crushed and
killed by an automobile. OF course, the
owner is a millionaire, and again, of
course. being wealthy. is heartless.
rather gloats over killing little children.
By this time every one but the, de-
tective has guessed the truth. But he
feels sure the Italian is the kidnaper.
that he has realized himself caught in
cape. Why detail their encounter? Few
eyes. by that time. are clear enough to
see. Frantic at this disbelief in him
on top of mis- already overlooking Cul
Of woe, he makes for the detective witt,
a large pair of florists shears. But h.
relents and falls weeping to the floor
just as the lost child comes in, safe in
her fathers hands. The weeping mother,
hysterical in her joy, seizes an armful
stir a little gratitude even in q show
girl. and gives them to be bereaved
father to bury with his dead child.
X \
Pleasure that is almost pain?'' Why
most of the delights at Coney Island are
tOrtures. To ride a gravity railway is
to chokeAfor breath on the down grades.
To shoot a chute is to skip some heart
beats. To loop a loop is to gasp in
agOnized terror. Yet. those familiar di-
versions are plentiful and prosperous,
and new machines that may have been
brought from a Spanish inquisition are
utilized for amusement. In one you
slide down a tOboggan with humps to
bump you harder than ever before, and
to tumble you at the bottom in a more
mussy heap. In a second you start at
the top of a spiral tube, glide down till
you dread to stop, lodge a moment in a
sort Of pocket that reverses you to go
on head foremost, whfrls you like a cy-
clone and deposits you in a basket,
dizzy and bewildered.
Devices of mental pain have been put
into some Of the pleasures of gravity
riding. In a trip to Pixies Peak, you