New-York tribune., 1918-05-05
"TROUPING" FOR UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS

at once and found oneself chatting with 4.
audience as if they were all old friends
Even Madam Metropolitan who, VIII !.
luggage except tiny handbag, had nan.s.s
to work marvellous Transformation and 3
peared in full evening costume of black v4,,s
and gold lace, couldn't maintain her ora~..ss
dignity for long when an outspoken youth sts s
the front row greeted her appearance Ia 8
Gee, you look great" The Metroncltssss
Opera House was entirely forgotten from sa ~
on. And how they loved that glorious vc;ss, 49,
sensible woman was Madam Metropolits,s'
for she sang only simple things that tie h.,
her number, she gave them "The Long. InNss
Trail" and asked them to join in the chorus. Hss
applause and cheers and catcalls made q Can; M
Curci triumph sound like the close 81
strawberry festival"
The famous comedian, assisted by a cornnan
of fire people, presented a delightful onesss
play, which was received with wild enthusiast
but the boys were not satisfied with that tLss
clamored for the song with which his nan An.
is always associated and which made M
famous, and, of course, they got it.
What of the little soubrette whose 6...
it, "She was a riot" She certainly could d.
ragtime; it seemed as if the boys would nesss
let her go. And the lucky young man, sittise
in the very front row, it was red letter dav
for him. She brought him into the tiny dresss,
ing room and presented him to us.
"Meet my sweetheart, Tom O'Doughersv
folks" was the quaint way that she put It, aH
that big, husky six footer smiled all over liz
bonny Irish face, and answered:
PLEASED ter meet yer. l guess she's soma
kid! Am right?'' And rather think he vss.
We played at two huts that evening. A.
soon as those of who had furnished he
first part of the programme had finished our
stunts" we were piled into the ambulanra
and conveyed to the second arena Here +
was the same thing over again. The same
great audience, the same applause and ths
same shining eyes and teeth. Oh they are
wonderful, these soldier boys of ours! One
hears great deal of the spirit of the French
but one has only to lock out on to that sea Of
faces, each with that unspeakable look in tie
eyes, to be convinced that the spirit Of our
fighting men is second to none.
We were too late for the last train from
camp, and so we were taken by motor to the
nearest town. fifteen miles away, to catch the
night express. There were rounds Of lusty
cheers as we drove away, and urgent invita-
tions to "come again soon," and the last sound
that came to us as the lights of the camp faded
in the distance was a chorus of voices singing
"Give My Regards to Broadway"
We carried bit of the camp along with us
for piece Of the way, one, Mr.. Tom O'Dough
erty, who stood on the running board, holding
tight to his sweetheart's hand until long aftss
the last sign of Camp Liberty had been lost
in the distance
The prima donna with her evening slippers
tucked away under her arm snuggled up beside
me in the motor.
II wouldn't have missed it for the world
she said. "It was the greatest experience that
I have ever had. Mon Dieu, what an au.
dience!"
"Some night" murmured the comedian
"Nice boys, those!"
"Betcher sweet life!" said the little SOU
brette.