New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1918-11-17
By Rebecca Drucker

AS Mary Nash finished her last emo
tional outburst in the final scene of
"The Big Chance" was still wondering
whether to interview Willard Mack OF
William Meehan, who plays the part
of the little New York poolroom
hanger-on with such genuineness. In
interviewing Willard Mack there was
the ponderable advantage of inter
viewing a successful author and the
leading man of the piece. On the
other hand there is a quiet, human
something about Meehan that told me
he could furnish forth good copy"
The weight of Mr.. Mack's success told
in the balance and I decided on him
when fate delivered them both into
my hands as | arrived in Mr.. Mack's
dressing room to find that he shared
it with Meehan. A double interview.
Meehan is small and retiring. Mack
l was at once impressed by the or
DERBY way in which Mr.. Mack mar
shalled forth the facts Of his life
one would not need to sooth or cajole
him. One would merely have to sit
back and absorb. But | found alb
sorption difficult because of the off
hand way in which Mr.. Mack was iden-
tifying his biography with remote COR
ners of the world. Manila, Nagasaki
Japan, Attabaski Landing. the Boring
Straits, Africa, Europe-he flung off
the names of these strange and terrible
places of romance as the commuter
would mention Hoboken or Dobbs
Ferry or Freeport. Through the maze
Of geography l detected that Mr.. Mack
had been q newspaper man here, an
actor Thereon just seeker after ad-
venture.
"There Is not one character In all
my plays that l have not known init
mately," Mr.. Mack was saying, as
reused myself from my insc lar aston
ishment. 81 got Tiger Rose from two
mounted policemen with whom | trav-
elled on forty-four day portage north
from Attabaski Landing. There is not
a character in Kick In or this play
that / have not actually known
All this while Mr.. Meehan had been
sitting, wrapped in a bathrobe, long
ingly gazing at pair of trousers that
hung on peg on the wall behind me-
'You know you are being interviewed
too, Mr.. Meehan," said, in a sprightly
manner. 81 suppose you have had q
checkered career, too"
There are few of US in this bust
ness who have not" Mr. Mack answered
: for him. "But it's worth it-hard hin.
and all-for the experience that comes
#out of 1t. have found materials for
plays everywhere. For instance, the
play I am writing now"
SIS it a war play?" | asked.
No. I shall never write another
war play. No good war play can be
written now--we are too near the actu-
atty. The plays of the war will be
written fifteen or twenty years after
the. war~-as were Shenandoah Secret
Service and Held by th,, Enemy
only wrote this because I was SO i'm
pressed with the fact that this war was
the making of so many drifters and
MASTERS, like those I have tried to
show. "
As Mr.. Mack at this point seemed
intent on brushing out Of his curly
hair the cornstarch which gives him
that elderly. distinguished look in the
role of the Irish remittance man, / es.
saycd Meehan again.
II saw you as Slippery Mugs In
Turn TO the Right" said, land liked
you 80 much. What had you played in
before that"
"0h, burlcsque, and everything from
the five.a-day TO the two-a~d day" said
Mr.. Meehan, smlingly. "Up and downs
chiefly downs"
"And didn't you ever get tired or
discouraged -
I'VE all get tired IF IT, said Mr..
Mack. "But re ali come back TO It,