New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1918-05-12
The Red Apple OF Merit
Uncle John Dresv p erpefuates Custom
That Has Dated From The Youth
of Lionel, John and Ethel Barrymore
By Solita Solano

John Drew walked back Of the scenes
of the Shubert Theatre the other even
ing and handed his nephew, Lionel
Barrymore, fat red apple.
Curiously enough, no diamonds from
Kimberley, ivory from India or Bag
dad wishing carpet could have given
as much pleasure to the younger man
as that simple and lusty fruit picked
from a native orchard. 1t meant that
the praise he had received from the
critics was only his just due for an
achievement Of great worth.
The ceremony of the red apple is one
that has persisted in the famous Drew
Barrymore family ever since Lionel,
John and Ethel were youngsters. They
always knew when they had done
something worth while, because Uncle
John never failed to translate merit
into terms of red apples. And the
family custom has not been allowed to
perish.
Whether John received an apple for
,
but assuredly he should have. History
at hand does not reveal what Mr.. Drew
brought behind the scenes, or even if
he saw his nephews in that play. It is
known, however, that two or three sea-
sons ago, after watching John in his
memorable performance OF Galswor-
thy's Justice" his uncle carried tt
the dressing room the largest apple
Oregon had grown in six years. And
privately we think John Barrymore
should have had at least bushel OF
them for his work in that play.
The evening Uncle John went to
'"The Copperhead' for the first time
was the evening we, too, had selected
to see Lionel in the role Of Milt Shanks,
living martyr. We were not witness
at the presentation of the apple, but
we did see that when Uncle John left
his seat to go behind the scenes his
chest was running the fit of an ex-
ceedingly smart waistcoat.
Now, the original idea of getting
ease from an orchestra seat and then,
according to established custom, to be
conducted back stage with full honors
by manager wreathed in smiles, who
room door for one of those "chatty''
interludes productive of quotation
marks and an invitation to luncheon.
This picture was all wrong, the man.
ager said at once. Nothing like it had
ever happened at the Shubert Theatre
since Mr.. Barrymore had been playing
there. The star had a horror of news.
papers. He was shy and restive He
did not like strangers. He was not as
other actors. That he need never talk
of himself nor his life had been q
stipulation included in his contract.
one gathered. We recalled that Uncle
John himself does not like interviews
Nor dies Maude Adams, nor William
Gillette. Nor ALA Nazimova-except
on Wednesdays, when we have to be
writing, not getting, them. And then
VIVA = 40 Az .. \ iohc. OGe, Ldlk ana uu1S-
ton if you will, but never wrap about
her the quotation marks that commit
her irrevocably.
What is the theatrical profession
coming to-" we reflected. what il
more stars should decide to go into
seclusion ?" And we began to think
of Theda Bara, who may never dror
her veil in public or even sip tea al
the Ritz through its meshes, and Nine
Yorska. who is about to vamp it in
the movies-is it for $4,000 a week p
IT she but consents to go into an i'm.
penetrable seclusion throughout the
process.
"Is the sanctity of the press nothing
to Mr.. Barrymore? Has he no duty
toward those who admire him? Car
he contemplate possible vacant
column on Sunday without remorse p
we inquired coldly. "Nothing. No
Yes" replied the harassed manager.