The Hawaiian star. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu]) 1893-1912, 1910-05-14
WHAT THE PUBLIC DOES NOT
sEE-THE LAST REHEARSAL
Nv EInannr Rlu.nnnrnh

At first all seems dark as dun.
geon, but as your eyes gradually be.
come accustomed to the Stygean
shades you discern rows upon rows
of hte empty, uninviting seats In
their positions in front of the stage.
the stage.
The orange colored windows drawn
down reveal a pale reflection of the
bright, cheerful day without, where
a passing car or vehicle occasionally
breaks the stiffness.
But within the echoing corridors
of the house of mirth lies a gloom
as melancholy as the atmosphere Of
the solemn hall of justice across
the way. The spirit of recreation is
gone and at the hour of ten a. m. no.
thing remains but business and Sc
rious business, too.
For tonight out there in front of
the bright footlights will be many
scores of people with eager faces.
keen with pleasure and expectancy for
the new play, and if any line is for
gotten or any other little error is
perceived there will be as many TO
criticise, for the public is unrelent-
ing.
By and by, as you sit alone in the
empty box, stage carpenter comes
up from below and takes a casual
survey of the placement Of scenery.
Two fellows in overans stroll in
from the street and after a few wbis.
pered comments disappear in roll
licking abandon out of the back door.
laughing as soon as they hit the light
of day.
PRESENTLY one member of the COM
pany strolls in, then another, and
another, till all are assembled. and |
the first act is called.
The leading lady, in blue linen
suit, with a striking black and white
hat, drops into chair beside you.
It's so hard to get up and come |
down here" she remarks languidly:
1 am simply dying for Sleep"
All the smiles with which she has
warmed the hearts Of her admirers
are gone. She is just a tired, little
human woman who wants to go to |
sleep
She is presently disillusioned, how.
ever, of any right she may think she
has to be anything but an actress
by the sharp and precise voice of the
stage manager,
First act!" he calls in stentorian
tones. where's Margaret Oswald?"
She excuses herself, and hastily
withdraws, and her place is taken by
another lady, with chic little sum.
mer Powered frock and tiny bands
Of black ribbon velvet Her skin is
a rich olive and her fluffy dark hair
is coiled in thousand little curls
all over her head,
Tired" you ask
why no, not today" laughs Miss
Hudson. I'm as fresh as a daisy!"
Then Edith Elliott drops in with
few others to have a little chat.
Wish they'd hurry up!" she re.
marks, with worried expression. 81
want to act so badly"
So the first act is on, and with |
gestures and facial contortions the
group discovered" at the rise of
the curtain is already in full swing.
Louis Morrison, in white flannel
trousers, a crisp, neat shirt and a Pa
mama hat, stands in the center Of the
stage, good "segar" gripped be.
tween his fingers. There is no hitch
with him. He is sure of his lines
already, and of his various positions.
and goes through his scene with the
smooth accuracy characteristic of
him.
The others with him are good too,
but occasionally there is a halt and a
mute appeal to the stage manager at
the big desk holding the script in his
hands.
Laura Hudson is looking over a
file of papers for press notices.
Shipping intelligence" she quotes.
laughing, do they import much of
it here?"
Then in comes Henry McRae, neat
and dapper in white flannels and as
CHEEKY as though he hadn't a care in
the world.
Suddenly a boyish idea strikes him
and he seizes all the papers and in
confusion envelopes Laura Hudson
in them till only her face is visible
from the printed mass.
'Help!" cries the victim feebly.
Help help!"
Up and down the foyer with ges
lures which seem to indicate the pre-
liminary to a boxing fest swings
Griffith Wray, his pongee shirt turn
ed down at the neck, arms and head
bare and a fierce determination to
hammer those lines in at any cost
written upon his serious face.
A snatch of song-a coarse laugh !