Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-08-10

THE renewal of Journeys End
at Henry Miller's Theater again
emphasizes the debt that valor
Il owes to strong drink. In 1t the
foes of abstinence can see a
coward made lion-heart on the battle
grounds through imbibing the magic
waters-timidity changed to daring, and
the misery of a soldiers life turned into
relative comfort. It Is said by his
torians that the Union was preserved
in the war between the Blue and the
Gray because Gen.. Grant wet his
whistle on the eve of conflict, and there
are legends that Hector'S chariot was
drawn by steeds inflamed with wine.
The records are full of stories about
men who were made supermen by toX1cs
or stimulants, and Journeys End" is
another convincing affidavit that poison
is sometimes useful in what the drama
occasionally refers to as this thing
called Life" There were two or three
effective drunkards in What Price
Glory?"
Richard Bird, one of England's most
actorious actors, plays the ootiSh hero
in the current revival with his custo-
mary enthusiasm and is, I believe. more
faithful to the role than others who
have overdone it. His performance
convinces one that the captain Is a
bounder, then excessively q tender
fighting man, but always under the in
fiuence of liquor. Mr.. Miller's cast,
selected from the players of his several
companies, Is troupe of Sagacious art
lists, the most competently bel1evable
that has performed Mr.. Sheriff's fine
drama.
TN Mr.. Belasco's dossier for 1930-31
i there Is an item about another ghost
play, the first since he and David War
field frightened us 20 years ago with
1.-THE Return of Peter Grimm" Al
though a believer in spiritualism, Mr..
Belasco is not a propaganda, and the
Snowman rather than a preacher.
But 1t will be q dignified exhibition,
and as a scoffer whose blood ran cold
and whose teeth chartered recently at
a seance, I look forward to this play
with quivers of anticipation.
Mr.. Belasco told the late William
Winter about an adventure he once had
somewhere in the mists between here
and heaven. IAN interesting account of
a strange experience" said Mr.. Winter,
as he recorded 1t as follows:
For many years I had asked myself
the question" said MFR. Belasco, "'Can
the dead come back?' One morn
ing, after a late rehearsal Of 'zaza,' I
reached home at 3 o'clock, completely
tagged out. No sooner had I fallen
asleep than I seemed to waken, and
there stood my mother by my bed.
'Davie, Davie, Davie,' she said three
times. smiled and. bending over me,
kissed me good-by. She said other
things-told me she was happy-not
to grieve. I could not stir. but kept my
eyes fixed upon her as she moved
toward the door and disappeared. How
long lay staring into the darkness I
do not know. but at last managed to
collect myself, put on my dressing
gown and, still dazed. went downstairs
to little sitting room. My family
heard me. What are you doing down.
stairs?' my youngest child, Augusta,
asked, and she tried to coax me back
to bed. I went to my room. but
could not sleep. When told my family
Of my vision and that I believed my
mother was dead, they suggested that
was overweight and tired and had
seen my mother in dream.
IT went to rehearsal the next morn
ing and during an interval had luncheon