Evening star., 1920-07-11

ney, as he drifts into the
Physical Culture Studio here the other
noon.
Huh says l. Him? Say, If you
want to do me favor. Pinckney, take
that bird out somewhere and lose
him
Finding him bit difficult. eh?" he
asks. What seems to be the SPECIFIC
{ Complaint"
Suppressed Mysteries is my guess"
says l. Say. how han 1 put anybody
in condition when they come in here
with a set of nerves as jumpy as a
widows who has just had long ses-
sion with the ouija board? What $
the use tryin' to get him lathered up
with the medicine ball when he'll
stop in the middle of a throw and
stare at you absent minded? Hey,
what's the big idea, Dudley? I asks
him yesterday. Didn't l tell you not
that ball back at me?' oh, beg
pardon. professor says he. But two
minutes later he's off again. And
he's getting worse. ! don't know
what he's got on his mind, but I'm
glad it amt on mine. l expect I'll have
to give him up
At which Pinckney protests vigor-
Gus. Hadn't he told Dudley what a
wizard | was at making over parties
who'd gone on the rocks, physically
and mentally? Was / going to spoil
nv record in this fashion? Besides,
here was the most brilliant dramatist
in the country who was about to FIN
ish comedy that four Broadway
managers were bidding their heads off
for.
TT Is only a couple of scenes in
the third act that are troubling him.
says Pinckney.; He thinks they drag,
you know. And Lenore Dubois, the
star he had counted on to play the
leading role, has been lured away by
new movie combine; and he's re-
hearsing two road companies to go
on with that Sister Sue thing which
ran all last season at the Centurion
and Susimo, his Japanese valet, has
asked for three months off to visit
Eyes, I've heard all them tales from
him." says l. What do you expect
me to do-cry?"
mo" says Pinckney. Not that the
spectacle wouldn't be interesting. but
I'd much rather you'd devote your
luncheon hour to making a diagnosis
of his case and telling him precisely
what he ought to do
whats the use?" says I. HE
wouldn't do it."
I'll promise to see that he does,
says Pinckney. Come along"
ley Kipp at his bachelor quarters, and
hustles him off to the club. He's more
or less of huSk, SO far as size goes,
Dudley is. One of these big-framed
raw boned. rugged-faced gents, who
ought to be out in the cattle country
mewhere-anything else but sittin
at desk writin' fool plays. and
squabblin' with leadin' ladies, and
havin' his fngernails manicured twice
a week.
How'd you come to get tangled up
with the stage, D. k.?" l asks. after
we've got settled at Pinckney's favor
it's corner table and have given our
luncheon orders. ANY actors in your
fam'ly?"
Not a one. thank heaven!" says
Dudley. II was born on a farm up
in Connecticut
Couldn't you learn to hoe spuds
and turn the grindstone, or what?'
says l.
1--WE done both" says he, "and I've
a disk harrow, and pitched
hay. and helped fill silo. My early
ambition was to own a dairy farm
and drive the milk route all by my
was living at South Tinkham with
Uncle Hen. You see, lost my mother
when 1 was six, and father went
roaming around. He was a journey
man printer. But at eleven and a
half I got word from him that he had
the widow of man who had owned
a country weekly. and wanted me to
come and live with them. OF course,
went. At seventeen I was writing
most of the local page and half of the
'It wasn't until was nearly twenty
that 1 became real chummy with the
town barber. who could initiate al
most any kind of noise on an ac-
,ordion. from man snoring to a
village band coming down. the street
He confided to me that if he had a
good line of patter to go with his
mutations he could get a job on the
variety stage. Well. l wrote out a
title sketch, invented a lot of humor-
ous business to fat up his act, and
saw him off on the night train for
Chicago. Do you know. his sketch
went big from the start, and inside
IF year he wired for me to come
On to ST. Louis and confer with the
Four Musical Zingaris, of which he
lad become one. They wanted twenty
minute act for parlor set introduce
ng his accordion limitations, a bur-
Again ! scored. They paid me a whole
hundred. Well, that was my undoing
began writing three-acI comedies
and sending 'em to New York mana
gers. At last / landed Uncle Bills
Night Out Remember that, don't
you? Freddy Bostwick played it for
over 900 performances. Awful rub
Dish, but I've been doing that sort of
hing ever since"
by Jove" says Pinckney Fancy
that!
And he might have been a sailor
Or farmer or a tailor
Or gunner In our great Nav-vee
Thus does a fckle Fate shape our
aestinies!''
'Ob. / say, 2iSckney" protests
D. K. "easy on the doggerel. Be-
sides. must now face the serious
business of mixing a dressing for an
alligator pear salad without the aid
Of a fresh lime. Henri. are you per-
fectly certain there are no lines to
be had? Oh, don't shrug your shoul-
ders in that idiotic way! Well, bring
me some taragon vinegar and the
paprika. And Henri! Why in the
name of the seven secret sins do you
bring corn mullins? Why not corneu
beef and cabbage as we'll? Bah! take
EN- away, And sweet butter, If you
please. Henri. Always sweet, butter'
That's just sample of the finicky.
peevish notions Dudley has accumu-
lated. He has to have one of the
the light comes in too strong, and
he has quite debate with Henri over
a spot in the tablecloth which he
might be coffee stain. Henri
thinks it's simply a rust mark. but
he compromises by eoverin it up
with a napkin. And then what do you
think of a 170-pound man maxim a
luncheon on half an alligator pear,
one finger roll, cup of tea and three
'Listen here. D. k says l. You
look to me like you was headed straight
for a p.s.''
For a what?" he asks
Private sanitarium,' says T. "One
Of these joints where they take an
X-ray Of your bank Ia account and then
what you ought to do? You ought to
your act"
Just how, my dear man." de-
mands Dudley.