Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-11-26

thinking, ana OICen as the result OF Cfle SUIT
ring of some surface emotion; but they hiss
only when they have been stirred down to
the bottom of their feelings. This is on the
same principle that it is easier to smile than
to frown, and easier to talk than to remain
silent. The hiss sounds, and reveals the
deepness of the fighting blood applause dis
closes merely momentary qualification.
But some of the sincerest tributes to AMI
relative condemnatlons of my vllla1ny have
been revealed in other forms than kissing.
Some years ago | was playing the wicked
schoolmaster with that distinguished artist
Madam Janauschek in "Leah." AT the end
of the play where Leah recognizes the rascal
and denounces him. he draws long knife and
starts toward the woman. He is seized by
the villagers and drops the weapon, which
she approaches him with arm up1ifted,
ready to strike, hesitates for moment. In
one city where we were playing man seated
in the second row of the orchestra became so
excited at this period that he yelled out,
@Give it to him, Leah! He deserves it. Kill
him. curse him!" Madam Janauschek was
SO disconnected at the interruption that the
curtain had to be rung down. But if |
could have found the man who had done the
shouting and had thus paid me an uninten-
tional tribute, l should have shaken his hand.
On another occasion, when playing the
villain in the famous melodrama "The
World in Baltimore at a Saturday mat
inee, l was involved in like incident. The
hero of the play was Harry Crisp, brother
of the then Speaker of the House in Wash
ington. Crisp, in his heroic and enviable
role, was reclining in an armchair in the
fourth act reading paper, totally unmlnd-
full of the fact that VILLAIN that was!-
had designs upon him. l was creeping
noiselessly along the carpet with my eyes
riveted on my victim, at the same time
saturating handkerchief l was carrying
with chloroform. l crawled nearer, nearer,
nearer The audience was watching the
scene intently and waiting, in the vain hope
that the hero would turn in time and foil me.
Just as got back of the hero and was about
to spring upon him, woman in the balcony
cried out, lookout! For Gods sake, look
out! He's behind your chair" By that
time, however, l had done the dastardly
deed, and Crisp, pretending not to notice
the interruption fell back helplessly in his
chair in accordance with the demands of the
manuscript A loud "Oh!" from the woman
in the balcony drew the attention of the
audience to her again, and l have always
felt sure that if an usher had not rushed
down to quiet her with an explanation that
it was all make believe, she might have har
bored the stage crime against me for life.
DROBABLY the most exciting adventure
that ever fell to stage villain IS lot in this
country carries my name on its record. 1t
occurred years ago, when l was playing
Burke, the rascal, in Jules Verne's "Voy-
ayers of the Southern Seas" in Chicago, and
it came very near costing me several broken
bones. As the villain, was left alone on a
deserted island at one point in the play with
the Captain of the expedition and his child.
The Captain had logged me after had in
dulged in drunken orgy, and l was aching
las per manuscript for my revenge.
Accordingly, as the first step in my cam
paign to get even, seized a Ratchet and de-
molished the Captains makeshift hut. Still
not satisfied and still thirsty for more re-
venge, grasped my weapon more firmly and
began providing about in search of the object
of my hatred. / wore a black beard and
long shaggy black mustache, and | made a
beautiful looking specimen of rascal, indeed.
Presently spied the Captains child "Ha,
hal" exclaimed in sinister tones. "At last
l have revenge within my grasp And |
grabbed the child by the collar, threw aside
the Ratchet, and proceeded to strangle the