Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-09

and some in velvet gowns that have seen
many a better day.
In the whole assemblage hardly a sin
gle English face is to be seen. Here is a
gang Of Yiddish hobbledehoys. swarthy
and unshaven, with sinister intelligence
about those 1ong-nosed, full-lipped faces
that suggests in each a potential 1ago.
Here are Hebrew mothers with few
remnants left now of their maiden finery,
nursing their babies in the back rows.
Here are smart young Rachels and gaudy
Rebeccas. Here are cunning old Hebrews
with "ole clo' written in every Inca
ment, but with something still of the
Mosaic dignity.
Yet all alike are following the traffic
Of the stage with shrewd and critical
keenness absolutely removed from the
hypocritical appreciation with which. say,
an average English gathering of relatives
and friends would view their darlings.
efforts. Some have got promptbooks Of
their own-strange connections, with
pages Of some cheap edition pasted on
to the thumbed caves Of q penny exer-
else book.
King John Is Late.
The days play happens to be king
John" The stage waits. 1t waits for
John himself.
Come along. John!" shouts the stage
manager.
where's the king?' il echoed among
the little swarm OF children at the back
Of the stage.
At last John arrives, scrambles through
the mere rabble of courtiers and ladies
in waiting and takes his due place in the
center Of the stage. A chair serves him
for throne.
His real name Is Ben, and he Is only
just turned thirteen. One doubts il evel
monarch surveyed his subjects with more
complete self-command than this little
too large, his black hair cropped behind
and quilted before; his bright little eye!
beaming impudence, his fearless Cockney
accent attacking the immortal lines will
confidence that many an actor-managel
might envy.
This Hingland never did. nor never shall.
Lie at the prard foot OF a conqu'ror.''
With Ben, as with the rest. aplomb 4.
the quality. There is no simpering. NJ
faltering. no vestige of stage fright with
these young Hebrews. Never once ha.
one of them been known to dry up" al
the phrase is.
Nearly ali of them are already WORD
perfect. This, although. as their school
master confessed, there is an enormous
deal that they cannot be expected tt
understand. But when there is chance
Of good plain drama you should see then
Ben's Theatrical Ideals.
Apart from his bold and free enuncia-
ton, Ben lays great stock by his gesture
He has never seen a play before. but ha:
vivid Memories OF a certain blood-curdlins
sketch at an East End music hall. II
any case, he has In this show around hin
examples that no living actor could even
emulate, Kean. Kemble, Garrick, Mac
ready. immortalized in those old lightning
struck attitudes of passion that seem al
most as physically impossible nowadayi
as the stretch-galIop OF the sporting
prints.
The subtlety Of King Johns character
does not strike Ben as of chief I'M
portance. Strength and villainy are the
roots of his conception.
And is there anything else you think
of putting into the character" he was
asked.
"Yuss, guv'nor." he. answered. with ire
mendous impressiveness, hall my hen
Pretty well all through, as far as the
boys are concerned, this Straightforward
view OF villainy and virtue holds the
field.
Whitechapels diminutive Hubert. a BIZ
OF a playgoer. Is consciously modelling
London" despite the vein Of tenderness
in Hubert's character. The romance. the
poetry Of 1t all does not much appeal to
them. They are just burning to dis
tinguish themselves, anywhere and any
how.
But the girls! All. they are different!
They are deep already in the poetic tolls.
They sit In little rows, with ribbons In
their hair and arms round each other
necks. gioating all a-dream over the
magic imagery. What yearning Jessicas
are here! What unknown dark-eyed
Juliets, who would give the world for