Mountain advocate., 1920-08-13

House in New York City. Out in
front, the first OF what was to be
a vast audience, was gathering.
Back stage, there was the usual
seeming confusion that attends
the setting OF the stage. Scene
bhifters and other supernumerar-
ies were bustling about, drops be-
Ing let down and as quickly jerked
back again. and the customary
medley OF raucous-voiced orders
from stage hands, each trying to
tell his fellows what to do.
Back in his dressing room
Thomas Chalmers was busy with
his makeup before the mirror
As ] entered for the second time
that evening, / noticed a stranger
with him--a gray haired, dignified
appearing old man. with an old
fashioned. gold-headed cane. I
just caught part of his conversa-
tion as | sat down.
And they all have one great
fear, they fear the one day and
they all know II will come" he
said.
What day it that?" questioned
Mr.. Chalmers.
"The day when their voices will
fail them. Then, they think now,
they will go out and be forgotten
like meteor fades and is lost in
the night"
Just then the announcer entered
and said:
Fifteen minutes, Mr.. Chal-
mcra."
Fifteen minutes and the play
Is on" mused the old man; "a
few hours and the play and the
season is gone. Tonight, fifteen
minutes mean nothing to us, but
the day will come when we will
wish we could crowd years of
things we should have done into
the last performance and the last
fifteen minutes before the curtain.
Ia, IL ] were a great singer |
would always sing as l would ut
my final performance. and | would
always sing the songs that make
the heart of the world bigger and
better. My art would not fade
like the meteor, hut would carry
its message on into the ages. like
yours will, Mr.. Chalmers. That
art of yours, that wonderful voice
of yours. is living every day in a
thousand homes, and it's you, all
you, on the phOnograph. I mean
you know can't tell the differ
cnce between you and it-no, sir.
these ears of mine that know the
human voice like few do, can't tell
the difference between it and
something that man has made
ha, ha. funny old world"
The old fellow leaned back and
far-away look came into his
clear, blue eyes. Possibly he was
thinking of the stars of former
years, that, as he said, shone in
beauty for few moments, in COM
parisOn with the life of this old
world of ours. and then faded
away.
The orchestra had finished the
overture, the vast audience was
restlcSsly anpiauding for the cur
tains to raise as thCy were slowly
drawn back and up.
Chalmers put the finishing
touches to his costume of ccntur-
les ago and left for his entrance
10 the scene. Outside, some of
the principals paced back and
forth, now and then softly trying
their voices. The bass, cOstumCd
Us king of ages ago, stopped in
front Of the door, hummcd a
phrase, cOughed and stopped The
old man across from me smiled
and said: Hes thinking, too.
about the day when il will be gone.
! know, | know, / used to sing, but
it's all forgotten now"
Then l heard the first tones of
the most admirable voice of Chal-
mers in his opening song. l
walked out to the stage, and on
forbidden ground | knew. and the
old man followed. Chalmers
voice rose and fell. a splendid
baritone.
The old man plucked my sleeve.
"Ah. that Tom Chalmers is the
artist, the real singer, the wonder
full actor. He's the great actor
like Jean DeReske. Well do re-
member Jeans first triumph here
in Faust. The audience saw
only him. heard only him, the
others were all forgotten when he
sang. And this new generation
never will know the beauty of his
art-but of Chalmers-yes. On a !
little disc there is shared the soul
of his yOice-and as many years
after to-day as have passed since
Christianity first came to us, his !
voice will be living, vibrating as It |
is this minute, making the world |
a happier one - and countless |
other voices that exist now and in |
ages to come will do the same. |
All, that man-snared voice will |
perpetuate happiness forever"
So the act progressed, he occa-
sionally talking about the artists
that are like meteors. flaming and |
dying in the night.
The last scene came. All
around us were the members of
the ballet. white dressed. carrying
wings or putting them on, all pre-
Daring for their entrance. A little
tot near me was excitedly describ-
ing picture show she had seen
that day. The beautiful quartet
number meant nothing in her
Young life. she was to be a great !