Evening Star Newspaper, September 4, 1921, Page 43

nis THE SUNDAY . STAR, WASHINGTON, D, C., SEPTEMBER 4, 1921;;PART Crashes In — — By Sewell Ford Trilby May O you know how to get to room 39 in the Klaubert Theater building It you do, you've had a liberal edu- cation, and Mr. Edison is probably waiting to start you in pasting watt labels on electric bulbs at sixteen 2 week. From which you might gather that I've begun my career as a dramatic agent. Uh-huh. You win. Anyway. I've made my first stab. I haven't taken floor space fronting on Times Square yet, or had Trilby May Dodge painted in gold letters on a ground glass door; but I've crashed into the game, and up to date I'm the sole rep- resentative of one of our most prom- ising young playwrights. Absolutely. There's hardly anything worth having that Barry hasn't ‘promised me, or isn’t ready to. ‘Wasn't I telling you that he ad- mitted having a big idea? Well, that was the last I heard from him for mearly a week, and when he finally did appear I could guess from the flicker in his blue eyes that he had a script concealed about him. He had. Ines was the first to spot it, though. “You go readin’ again?' she asks. Barry tints up pink in the ears. “Why,” says he, “if you and Trilby May don’t mind I should ltke to—" “All right,” says Ines cheerful. “Uncle Neis and 1 go to movies.” “She's such a thoughtful girl,” says| «I DON'T WANT TO GET PER- 5 1 as the door slams behind them. N SONAL,” SAYS I, “BUT ALL YOU But Barry only hunches his shoul- ders and hands me the typed sheets. | LACK IS A FEW GREEN FEATHERS “You said you'd do the reading, You!T0 QUALIFY YOU FOR HOPPIN' Eriow. e suggeats AROUND IN A SWING PERCH IN A So 1 did, beginning with the title, “The Prince and the Flapper.” BRASS CAGE, ASKIN' FOR A CRACKER.” hat’s a good touch, Barry.” says L “Yes, I like that. Now let's see how you've followed it up. Tl own that 1 was surprised. He'd taken the same character he'd used in the first sketch—that Alex chap who'd filvvered at being a prince but who had achieved a knockout as a head waiter—and he’'d built up an entirely new yarn, with a seventeen-year-old boarding school vamp featured as the leading lady and a comic king who grouches about being recalled to the throne just as he's got his golf game going strong enough to beat the vamp's daddy, a reckless breakfast food plute from Buffalo who never plays for less than a dollar a hole.|duced no results either, except that it And in the first two pages he works [stirred up all the mulish quality in up a situation that got me chuckling | my disposition. through the lines. “Say, Mr. Klaubert,” I called out. “I belleve you've dome it, Barry! “Eh?” says he, whirling sharp. And says 1, as I finished. then, seeing it was a stranger, and “You really think 507" he asks. “I{only me, he simply stares. . wish I could get Morris Klaubert or| ‘“Just a mement,” says I, beckoning some of those fellows to listen while |him up. T ey a ey don’t,” says I, “it will be because the thing can’t be done. I'm| AT first I thought he was going to going out with this tomorrow.” make a flying jump and bite me “You'’re a good pal, Trilby May,”|on the shoulder. As it was he only says he. hush on the soft stuff,” says I |00k 8 hop-skip my way and brought “I'm a commission hound’ with no|UP two feet from me with a wrathy mercy in my heart and a low cash|finger quivering under my nose. “Show me Max.” says I seserve .1:! 32;‘...2‘“: r?gt z::llngg‘: “Say, how many times have you|a teaspoonful of courage left, I the theatrical district you can guess|Janes gotta be told we ain't takin® "‘é{,"‘and“ led me around four turns that I've staged a whirlwind offensive | on any bobbed blondes for this plece?” | ,¢"iy0 hallway, through a door mar and failed. Otherwise you can begin he demands. “And youre only aled, “Keep Out.” across a fire escape, guring out your royalties. terra-cotta pink, at that.” and showed me how to ring for the Which was just by way of keeping e - A - 2 _Iprivate elevator. “Get off at the top Barry chirked up, of course. Yet ity “Excuse me says L “Natural near-|Ro . € CEVGA o S0 DR By € 0P 1 did seem simple’ enough to get a|henna is my color scheme, and I'm 0 |ana 'keep golng until you come to hearing. Perhaps this wasn’'t the = chorus candidate anyway. All I want room 39. That's where the great regular style of submitting one-act Marrie Tangs oot plays. but so much the better. I'm all|is to—" - for the new and untried. And I found “Bah!” he snorts. “Think I've got|, And three minutes jater I was got’ out where the Klaubert offices were|time to listen to all the hard-luck [ & t02 S8 S1ate omm RIS S1o00 by looking up the number in the|tales any ginger-haired skirt wants|yOURE party with the oily hair and e phone directory. to lug in. Couldn't use you anywhere. | > £€% | m"lln hing coralolay ewestils You know who it is that's ready | You're figure’s no good and your face! 708 79, (et 81YTNIE CArile My SWESs to rush in where bright angels are|is worse.” findliness. T had Inte ihat twiot apt to hang back? Then you've got| “How sweet of you to mentlon it, |grSiciiess, o ¥ my description. Cordially yours. And |kind sir” says I “But, say, you're|WMRS,0CmINe. .. . o I may as well confess that my ideas |nothing to tell the world about your-| . . 3 on how a big theatrical magnate runs | self?" “I beg pardon,’ says the youth. his business—well, they were about as| “What's that?” he barks. Have you an appointment with Mr. clear as a pool of pea soup. I rather| “I dont want to get personal Klaubert? think I expected to find a large, im- (I, “but all you lack is a few green| ‘Me?” says I grehlnx my eyebrows. posing personage sitting in a striped | feathers to qualify you for hopping | Why should I? No, no. Mr. Gold. velour easy chair chatting confident- |around on a swing perch in a brass)I'm planning this as a surprise for ially with John Drew and Julla Mar- | wire cage asking for a cracker. dear old Morrle. Dom't say a word.|the chalr and bowing. “This s the lowe, or running over a new Barrie| “Ya-a-ah!” he yaps. “Hey, x.ouiesllll Just slip in quletly. great Morris Klaubert, while I—well, play with Maude Adams. There would | Lead this fresh Jane out and drop her!| And before he could block me off {you tell her, Morris. “A loafer, chiefly,” says Klaubert, approaching the deak chair, “but at times the most temperamentgl paint- er of weird acenery in the business. And now, Hadley, if we get rid of this young womai “But you musn’t, Morrie,” says Had- ley. “At least, mot until you have heard ome of the cleverest little com edies it has been my privilege to lis- ten to in a long while. “Bah!" says Klaubert. “You! What do you know about such things? Crazy interiors and impossible outside sets with trick lighting, yes. But plays! Hah! Hadley shrugs his shoulders. *T tagger under your scorn, Morrie,” says he. “Of course, a mighty and discriminating intelligence such as yours is not to be questioned. Yet you did turn down ‘Number, Please! last season, didn’t you d drop fifty thousand in putting on “Once Upon & ) don’t mean you tried to read some- thing to him?” “I didn’t get that far,” says L. ¢I should say not!" says Budge. “Wouldn't have done you any good if you had. Why, he wouldn't know a Maeterlinck tragedy from a Guy Bolton lyrie. He's the beanless brother, Abie is. Does the dirty work, picks the choruses, that sort of thing. Morrie is_the one you want to see —Morrie Klaubert.” “I'm afrald I've queered myself with the whole family,” says I, “after what I said to the one I've just left.” “Nothing to it,” insists Budge. “If Morrie knew you'd bawled Abie out he'd be tickled to death. He can't stand him, efther. Nobody can.” “In that case,” says I, “I ought to be a lifelong friend of this Morrie person. Can he be seen?” “Well, of course,” admits Mr. Fisher, it ain’t so easy. 1 don’t get to him myself often, and I'm assistant dramatic _ad. manager. Do all the press stuff, you know. But I can tell you how to get as far as Max Gold, the outer guard. If you can get by him- “I have But afetr having gone so far I didn't want to back out like a timid coun- try gird edging away from the monkey cage at a circus. Besides, I'm no shrinking violet, as a rule. So I pushes up to the railing. elbowing aside a perfect thirty-six with plucked eyebrows, and springs my most win- ning smile in the general direction of the over-beaked little man. That move was just as useful as jiggling the receiver hook when the operator tells you the line i3 busy. Leaning over and waving a hand at him pro- get up. wasn't rude, but T just had to push him back in the chair. If necessary, I was Drepared to sit on him to keep him quiet. I didn’t quite get to that, though. I merely | 5tood mear enough to shove him back if he made another move, and almost before he knew it I was galloping through the lines of the first act. Twice he squirmed and I reached for him, but he didn't escape. The third time, however, 1 thought he'd got away. But he hadn't. “Beg _pardon,” says “Leg's asleep. ‘Go on. * ¥ ¥ ¥ ND as he merely settles down comfortably in the chair I was able to use both hands for the acript and give more time to the reading. I 4id it as well as I knew how, too, and I could see that the humor was beginning to register. At first he smiled rather patronizingly. It was a nice smile, though. That is, he did it with his eyes as well as his mouth. And the next thing 1 knew he was chuckling. After that I was sure he was following closely. The chuckles came oftener and heartier. Once he slapped his knee enthusiastic, and I was just romping to the finish when a door at the back of the office swung open and in trotted this short, thick set, spectacled person who stopped to stare at us with his mouth open. “What the devil!” he explodes. *“Just a moment,” says my nice a warning hand. starting to I hope I he. * %k * few lines. “Perfectly ripping! Thank you so much, young lady,” says he. “I'm so glad you like it, Mr. Klau- 've been holding down your job for you. Doing it much better than you could have, I'll dare say, even if 1 was rather impressed into the service against my will “Oh!" says I, looking from one to the other. “Then—then you're not Mr. Klaubert?" “Allow me,” says he, getting out of of s says ful little on't wi insists Klaubert. ve a that 1 brought back from the other side. Besides, the public doesn’t like one- pleces.” 'You could work it into a revue,” Hadley. says Klaubert. * stuff, isn't {t? That's enough.” It looked as if I'd flivvered again. Here I'd begun my campaign by hav- ing a row with the wrong brother, and then I had crashed into the right office only to pick out another wrong one. I had placed my nice man now. He was Hadley Hall, who had made such & hit with his stage settings for some of the Guild plays. It was kind of him to praise Barry’s little plece, of course, but I couldn’t see that it was fioln‘ to do much good. ‘All right,” says I, folding up the manuscript. f Mr, Klaubert has made up his mind there's no use In my sticking around and being a nui- sance. Sorry I made such a stupid mis- take, but I'm_ awfully een at thi sort of thing. Per! s I'd better qul “Don’t you do it,” young lady,” says Hadley. “You'’re ail right. And if Klaubert here wasn't such a stubborn old bonehead he'd take my word for llhtdut your friend’s play was worth while.” “Huh!" sneers Klaubert. “You're at liberty to back your own judgment, you know, Hadley. Why not put it on yourself if it's such a gem?"’ “T'l1 tell you what I will do, Morri “ asks Hadley. “I'll add to the terms that it comes uptown to take the place of one of your im- AT FIRST HE SMILED RATHER PATRONIZINGLY. IT WAS A NICE SMILE, THOUGH—THAT 1S, HE DID IT |Dorted fallures before New Years.” WITH HIS EYES AS WELL AS HIS MOUTH. o aoute on, Hadley.” says Klaubert. "I suppose you'll hang that much on fl"" next contract if you lose, Pwdoyoumunwwrklt? “I've Jjust thought," says Hadley. I'm going to do a perfectly corki: setting for this plece. Have it all planned—hotel terrace in the fore- Bround, bare and simple; but beyond, just over the stone balustrad usion of space. Do you wonderful shimmery blue of the Swiss twilight _stretching out and away, miles and miles, to the Jung- frau rising majestic and solemn in the distance. It'Il make ‘em dissy just to glance at it, and it will give exactly the right contrast to those whimsical ;l;al. There' o, Sl - be a tall silver vase filled with glad- |down the 1 had slipped i the foll on the polished mahogany desk, | necessary. pped past him, opened elevator well. Gag her, if Sag door lettered ‘Private,” and had and a soft-footed secretary tiptoeing “It isn’t, curly locks,” says I to the |it behind me. And there, with one about. i wire-haired young sport Who jumpsleg draped over the arm of & swivel It wasn't like that. Not at all |through the gate. “But if you don’t|desk chair, is this perfectly nice man After the elevator man had shooed|want to feel how hard I can pat you'll | with the cameo profilé, the broad me off at the third floor I had to|keep your paws in your pockets. I|shoylders and the long, slender fin- push my way through a mixed Iot|know the way out.” gers. He's frightfully busy making of females who were either chat-1 " Ana I was still biting my under lip | aimless pencil marks on a scratch tering chummy to each other or glar-| 35y waited for the car to come down |Pad. He didn’'t seem half as much ing around sullen. From the liberal| when who should drift out but Budge |Surprised to see me as I had expected. make-up on their faces and some of | Figher, a chubby-faced, pieasant-eyed | All he does is glance up casually and the expressions I caught on the fly I| young chap who had bean down to|then go on scratching nothing in par- could guess that they were ladies of |our Greenwich Village joint a few |ticular. But I'd done all the waiting lhg chorus, or wanted to be. times with Barry Platt. He had|around I cared for. My line was -to ‘Say, where do I find Mr. Klau-|something to do with the advertising | rush him off his feet and I went to it hext? I asked one of them. = department on Barry's paper, as I re- | strong. You don’t, dearie,” says she. “If|membered. Anyway, he was a folksy | “What luck!” says I “I simply youre lucky, he finds you. But if know you're going to give me ten you're crazy for a peek, that's him, or fifteen minutes of your preclous over behind the rail. time. I wouldn't ask it for myself, ‘What she points out is a runty, but I'm doing this for & clever young fellow whose - work you're simpl; baldheaded little man with a beak like a parrot and a complexion like bound to want sooner or later an “Oh, I say!” he breaks in. a first run pancake before the griddle gets working properly. He acts wor- “No, I can't leave it says I “He wants me to read It to you. It's onl; ried and peeved, and as he paces up a short, one-act thing anyway and and down he ems to be yapping hostile through a black cigar at sev- can rua through it in twenty minutes Awtul . Klau- eral low-brow assistants who regi: tered manly independence by wearing lly good of you, bert, to—" “But—but see here—" he protests. “I know,” says I. “You have an a sly smirk. Some of 'em were yap- important conference on hand. The ping back, though., and a squeaky- voiced office boy chanted every few other people are bound to be a Httle late, tho and meanwhile—Well, seconds: “Ballet squad now rehearsing though, the title is “The Prince an exiled king who' n -but who wants to keep on playing golf, and an_ex-prince who's_having the time of his life as 2 head waiter. Then there's that de- licions flapper from Buffalo—but why ‘waste wo on you, Morrie?” “You've said it” says Klaubert. “I don’t see anything in ft. But if you could settle down to anything so commonplace as planning a $10,000 set for the closing number of ‘Oh, Sus anna’ ¥-should like to get to work.” “Tomorrow, perhaps,” says Hadl ‘Tm not in the mood now. Head’ too full of other things. And if you'll excuse us, ‘maybe, Miss—er—" e.” says “Ah, thank you,” says he. “Can you come down to my shop, Miss ? Td like to have you run over that look who's going to give the drammer a bo now!" says he. “It's Trilby May Dodge, isn't {t? “If there’s enough left of me to call by name,” ys I “Eh?” says s L Budge. “Haven't been trying to horn into squab sextette, have you?" “That seems to be the chronic idea;” says I, “but there’s no truth in the rumor. My simple thought in coming here was to read a play of Barry Platt's to Mr. Klaubert. Cute notion, wasn't it? Either the thing can’t be done, or I'm the world’s worst dra- matic agent. All the success I had was in causing Mr. K. to blow a gasket and almost gefting myself on the roof! Ballet squad now re- hearsing on the roof! So the place out as restful as Sgturday night fectly bully. in a bowling alley. theows, Gut. . We. sxchaaged: BIttsr | and < Ghe e Isu't it, now? . ¥ the ords. was sure you'd think so. are dlear. Eh? Got the I couldn’t figure that this would be niee spot or the proper time to read anything to anybody, unless it was fmp: is 1aid on the terrace of a Bwiss | time?™ - “Who? Where,” asks soen: us. | hotel with—" 4 .| ‘Tm long Budge. I nods toward the door behind on time” says L ing the soe: Ames Hunt is drop down tomorrow and cont " 0, move will be Z fo! commissi hn'mm{n will celebrate with a little dinner somew! next room, you that I can'visualige|in the 'a!m. |WICE, perhaps oftener, the name of James Kearney has been used in this series of nar- ratives on Washington actors. It shall be mentioned in this story because the Rambler feels that he ought to give you a few paragraphs concerning this Washington boy who became an actor of sterling worth and who, as actor and manager, is known by a host of people of the stage and other hosts of people who §0 to the theater. The Rambler would give you more than a few paragraphs, but that is about all the matter he has at hand relating to the subject. ashington wht tate $3°To piay has heard and seen Jim in one role or another, for he and his wife were unfl.l:‘:z: F’zl;; ‘ln:l'lltn led with Ethe! B‘I-rrvlnnrv for eight rs. Few person in Washing- 0% audlonces who saw Jim on U a ink tighi top boots, wrap in a pirats & cardin cape or a kin, or as lover full of sentimental brass buttons and & clanking sword, os as a lover full of sentimertal sighs, gallant flatteries and speeches of endearment, and all that, knew that the actor was Jim Kearney, for- merly of Washington and long of ‘Washington. Then, Washington audiences have secn another name on the program Wwith Jim's. That name was Anita Rothe. She may have been dressed as a queen, a duchess or a princess, or she may have been dressed as a high soclety dame, an adventuress, a maid of honor or a maid of all work, an enchantress, witch, a simple lassie or a regular vamp. Only few of the auditors or spectators—and they old-timers—would say: “Well, well, I do believe if that ‘Why, bless your ‘Washington boys and girls went to one of those -choolz'u one time or another. Perhaps some of the people in the audi- ence would say, “Why I used to play in amateur theatricals with Anita! 'Pon my soul she does not look a day older than she did twenty-five years ago! These actresses certainly must wash their face and hands and neck in water piped from the Fountain of Yout! * % X % ANITA ROTHE and Mrs. James Kearney are the same. Jim and Anita have seldom been separated on the stage and never off the stage. They met in Bob Dobbins’ play of “Teddy O'Shawn.” What that was is not cssen- tial to the proper telling of this story and neither is the Rambler going to tell you whether Jim and Anita have a few gray hairs around their temples. You can guess as hard es you like, but I will say nothing on this subject that will satisfy your idle curiosity. . Yes, they met while each had a part in Bob Dobbins' play of “Teddy O'Shawn.” Dave Towers was also in that play. So was Eddie Walsh, who was a Carroll Instituter—that is, he was a member of the Carroll Insti- tute Dramatic Club. Bob and Annle Devantier were in the cast. Surely you remember Annie Devantier? You know she married Jim Murphy, Tim Murphy’s_brother, whose stage name is James Manley. I do not know why Jim changed his’name from Murphy!: to Manley., but the next time I meet him I'll ask him and let you know the answer. I remember that some time ago Mrs. Anita Rothe-James Kearney or it m have been Jim himself, told me some of the things that had happened to the family since they went on the stage. Jim and I each had a foot on a brass rail that ran along the front of a counter and was about twelve inches above the floor. We had our elbows on a broad piece of mahogany, which a man in a white apron frequently mopped & wiped with a towel. There was a great mirror on the other side of the mahogany counter and a large collec- tion of bottles w: arranged in an artistic way on the shelf on which the mirror rested. There were pic- tures on the wi and we thought those pictures quite interesting. But, of course, pictures of that kind are out of date now. One dos go to the trouble of lookin, tures. I do not remember sall was said, but I can distinctly recall that Jim sald several times, “Have another!” and I think I replied to ‘him several times in fitting language and that T said (though you may not believe it of me), “Have this one on famous place on Broadway, and this perhaps is also shocking to you, for in all the years that the Rambler has been writing for you, and you, you never found him that far away from Piscataway oreek, Occo creek, Goose creek, Difficult run. Matta- woman and Neabsco or the Leesburg pike and the road to Rockville. * x k% I REMEMBER that Jim and I got tired of standing on one foot at that long counter and that we went over and sat down at a table, of which there were a number, in this strange place. Jim told me that it was years ago that he and Anita left ‘Washington and went to New York ‘with the determination to stick to: gether.” Their first New York en. gament was in “Claudius Nero,” at Garde: My! what an- cient history that i It seems almost as long ago as when John Robinson's circus used to pitch its tent on the other side of the old canal, where the Pennsylvania rallroad station stood at 6th and B streets; almost as long ago as Kate Fisher rode the white horse in “Mazeppa”; almost as long ago as beautiful Pauline Markham the Stalacta of the “Black Crook”; almost as long ago as they used to have soirees at Carusl's sembly rooms and grand balls in the dining room of the -Union Hotel at Georgetown! But, old tempus fugits! In that “Claudius Nero” production were several Washington folk beside Jim and Anita. Wilton kaye was in it, as was his brother Jim. Tom Donnelly was also there. It was quite a home party. I'll say it was! After that Jim and Anita went on the with Mrs. John Dréw. Bi¢ manager and played the edy roles. In the company Rankin, Gladys Phyllis Drew was that night to get Barry Flatt on the phone. “What do you think I've done, Barry?” 1 asked. “The first day?’ says he, “Well, let's see. Talked with Morris Klau- ber have you? . “Klaubert! He's good. 1 spent an hour or more his private office. But say, you Hunt?" no in know Ames ry Oh, “I:Ire! going to featurs your plece in his new show. You're mt: you're & whiss, ‘were “Ny close enough I—T'd—-" ys L ‘“Your mext to write out s check n. Oh, welll Per- here—with Ines for & rone. Sh-h-h! She's only in the know.” have hit Ines she calis out. - 'm‘gnyf' m’l‘h. scene of this meeting was a! stone and Mr. Edison and the other was the annual day’s outing of the Enockafeller boys up to Saratoga, N Y. ers along 80 that we was able to keep in touch with them. through the pub. £ | 110 prints Joyed ¥ WHO HAD UNUSUAL SUCCESS ON THE STAGE HE Work of James T Another Day — An Kearney and His Wife, Anita Rothe, Who Lived in the Capital. Their Eight Years With, Ethel Barrymore in Various Plays——Washington Audiences of Interesting Interview. From Actor to Stage Manager. ¥ MRS. CHANFRAT. (Photograph from the Brady-Handy Collection.) more, who was just practicing to be an tor, and a number of other good actors and splendid people whose names the Rambler cannot recall, though Jim spoke theéem just as distinctly as he could. - Later Jim and Anita became members of the Frohman forces, and I think I can quote Jim on this matter 83 “Shortly afterward we came under the Frohman banner, where we remained for about eighteen vears. Dur- ing that time we were not separated three whole seasons, which, I think, is quite a record. Mr. Frohman rather favored the idea of married couples, though most of the other managers did not. But there was only ome Charles Frohman and there will mnever be another, I am afrai Our old friends the Kearneys played in “The Fatal Card,” with Annie Russell in_“Su were four seasons with the comedians headed by E. M. Holland and ts Williams, and they played with Ethel Barrymore for eight years. Jim told me thi = & 2 “While Anita and I were in Canada with Ethel's grandmother, she (Ethel) came on a visit just after her mother died. She was a slip of a girl about fourteen years old, but very tall. It Is D the editor: As I s2id a few wks. ago in these columns, a man that lives in a place like Great Neck don’t half to go nowheres on their vacation as we have got a summer resort of our own and I don’t mever get jealous when I read in the papers about so and so going up in New Hampshire or the 1000 islands for a few wks. but still and all they's been 2 parties that come oft this summer that I would of liked ,to tend them both, only my in- vitation got lost in the mails and one of them was the camping trip of which the members was President Harding and Mr. Ford and Mr. Fire- 7| “rEE GUY TOLD HIN HE WAS LOSING HIS HAIR AND OUGHT TO HAVE = A TONIC» Mr. Ford’s party had some report- ;and know how they en- Imaginary Summer Vacations; Or, the Knockafellers’ Outingl generally claimed she made her first ap- pearance with her uncle, John Drew, and Maud Adams, but she made it up there in Canada as Julia in “The Rivals.” The part was cut out in the Jefferson ver- sion which we used, but Sidney put back a scene with Faulkland.” * x x % ] REMEMBER that at about this time Jim and I were both talking at the same time and rather fast. 1 was trying to tell Jim about an interest- ing tombstone that I had found on the road to Dumfries near the head of Nebasco creek. or it may have been about the foundation of an historic house which I had uncovered on Sugarland run in Loudon, Rabbitts branch in Montgomery or Tinkers branch in Prince Georges. Jim in- as | was saying something about ons more, Jim, before we part. startéd in telling of some slight dif- ference which arose between Charley Vernor and Sidney Drew. I believe they were disputing as to which was the better actor, or as to which of where Harvey Firestone was reading Mother Goose out loud to the other 3 boys who sat stareing at him with expressions of such rapped interest that you would of thought they was Eskimos watching the city serfes in Philadelphia. But the Knockafellers did not have no press representatives with them and we will half to imagine how they spent their holiday which might be a difficult stunt for a person who was a stranger to them but is no trick for a man that has known the 2 boys as long as I have and in fact I bet I can pretty near describe ex- actly what was done and said with- out no dope to go on only my knowl- edge of the 2 boys. ‘Well, .they was both due in Sara- toga in the moraing and Bill went by train and was standing out in front of the hotel when John drove up -in his machine and you could retty near tell who he was because |of e had pennants with Tarrytown and Cleveland both on them. “how 1Is THE RAMBLER WRITES OF WASHINGTONIANS them the bouguet had been sent. or some serious disturbance of that kind. Because of this misunderstanding Jim was set to playing the part of Sir Luclus. Jim put it this way: “And had the extreme pleasure and honor of playing Sir Lucius O'Trigger to Mrs. Drew's Mrs. Malaprop, an honor which few can clalm.” Two of tiy separatiors between Jim and mice (in a theatrical sense only) were dui to Mrs. Kearney being shifted to the company of Maud Adams in emer- gencies, and Jim was with Kyrle Bel- lew for two seasons, and was Wit him when he died. a man and gentlema: we had another. Mr. Kearney got the reputation of being a reliable and efficient stage manager and they would not let him act any more. Mrs. Kearney has been away from New York a good deal during the past few years with Miss Barrymore in two or three of her later plays, and Jim has been with Faversham, Leo Detrichstein, in “The Concert” and “On Trial”; with 2 couple of Charles Dillingham’s pr ductions; with Cyril Maude, in “Jefl, “The Basker” and “Grumpy,” and not long ago he went with “Beb” and “Mary Stuart” Last season Anl was with “Mrs. Jimmie Thompse® under the Klaw manzgement, and in the “The White Villa.” for a series of special matinees by a group of actors known as the Players' Fel- lowship.” ~Jim said they made a start and he hoped the movement would live. Here is a little card { which may interest you: “The Play- ers' Fellowship, in conjunctios with A. H. Woods, presents ‘The White Villa’ a play by Edith Ejile. founded on ‘“The Dangeous A by Karen Mechaelis, at a series of matinees at the Eltinge TLeates, beginning on Monday, the 167 ¢ February, and | playing’Mon wesday and Friday matinees. Ca# -Sdward Eilis, Frank Morgan, Edwr_.d Reese, Kenneth Hill, John Clemencs, Lucille Watson, Doris Kenyon, Olive Oliver, Anita Rothe and~ Grace Fisher. ' Art director, said Jim. And | Charles Livingston Platt, and busi- ness manaer, Barbara Chambers. When Jim and Anita Kearney went to New York to live, Mrs. Rothe, Anita’s mother, went over to keep house for the young people, and get them started right on life’s journey. The Rothe family lived in Washing- 12th nue and E street. an exceptionally good cook, and at the New York home Sunday night was a time when many playerfolk gathered there. Mrs. Rothe could fix up dishes that made great artists smack their lip The actors who gathered around the supper table always said the food beat anything that Sherry could put up, was better than any food served at Shanley’s up-town place, and as to the 42d street place, why, an even- ing at Jim and Anita’s home, 204 West 7fth street laid over anything else in the town. It surely was a fine place to visit. Last week we were recalling mem- ories of Billy Ryan, who went out ir that famous Washington “Mikado™ troop_with Giles Shine, Effie Darl- irg, Fred Darling, Dessie McElvain, George Crump, Bob Dobbins, Lillian Lawrence and others of our friends of old. Billy, the last 1 heard from rim, had a fine home at Coney Island, and his son Jack, is one of the firsi- ciass character actors of the stage. Billy was the proprietor of Ryan's Inn on 12th street. 1 was talking with my old friend Gus Bruehl a few minutes ago about Ryan's Inn. It was next to Hogan's Oyster House and the Raleigh covers the site. The in had a side yard and a green and shady garden at the re: and of course, in summer this was “a sum- mer garden.” The inn was a two- story brick house with a plaster front and did not face directly on the street. There was a patch of verdant sward between the entrance and the present building line. A great many printers, writers, actors and musicians, and also quite a number of common peo- ple, such as senators, representatives, departmentalb functionaries, etc., con sorted and resorted there. Ah, dear! jhow time passes! The foreman of the Ramblers’ Union jremiods: me that: the whistle will blow" im" thirty minntes, and that it is time’ to throw down my typewriter, telephone for my car and dress for ldlnn‘:r. I hope to meet you all mext week. “You certainly look prosperous,” says Bill. “That's the old oil,” says Johnny. So then they went in the hotel and checked their suit case and went out to breakfast and the waiter re- minded Bill of the story about the 2 greeks and John hadn't heard it and laughed 80 hard that he fell off the ool After breakfast they went back to the hotel and set down where some- body had left a copy of Racing Form and they looked up the entries and selections for that day and Bill says: “Now let'’s make up our minds be- fore we go out just who we like and then stick to it because you remem- gart in the last race but you got that sour tip on Night Raider and instead of finishing the day $3 ahead we was $1.50 out.” es,” said John. “and don't forget you still owe me six bits from that day, or rather 79% cts. includeing in- terest. “Try and get it." says ell, they marked the horses they liked and it was only 10 o'clock so they figured they would have time for 9 holes and Bill win the 7th. hole with an eagle 11 and was 2 up when John lose his ball and they had to quit. So then they layed around till it ‘was time to go to the track and when they got there they had a couple of hot dogs and Bill give the man a quarter and told him to kesp th change and John started to ball hi brother out, but Bill said he had did it once before and it brought him luck. So they played Eager Eyes in the first race because they both liked the name but it finished outside the money and things went from bad to worse till they come to the last race $7 to the bad and they had picked Touch Me Not in that race because John said it was his favorite motto and it was 4 to 1 and they played it on the nose for $2.50 and it win in a canter and all and all they left the track in pretty good humor, but before John cranked the car he stuck his pencil in the gas tank and seen it was pretty near empty and they had to stop at a garage and buy 5 gallons and the guy soak them 26 cts. per gallon and John said it was an outrage. But when they got back down town Bill loosened up and bought a couple of nut sundaes s0 John was all smiles again when he went in the barber shop to get a shave and was figureing on giveing the wop extra dime till the guy told him he was loosing his hair and ought to have a tonic. That always gets Jack’'s goat. ‘Well, the boys decided they wouldn't need no dinner on acct. of the sundaes and hot dogs so they was walking along the main st. about 7 o'clock when they came to a pool rm. where it sald base ball returns was recd. in- side so they went in and Bill had the laugh on John because the Yanks had win and Cleveland got beat. “Never mind,” says John, “Just wait till Duster Mafls gets back in shabe and watch us go.” ‘Then Bill suggested a game of ro- tation for a quarter a side with the understanding that the winner would take the loser to played and Bill win a Ben Turpin comedy had to come down and tell them to be more quiet or they would half to take e air. After the show tney went back te the hotel and put the flivver Ilr an it wouldn’t need no lights and they went in the hotel and they was & dance going on but the dames was all old, 30 to 35, and Bill al- ways says.a gal can't toddle after she is 26 so he went to th “.kth:nd got u“: kfi" ‘(;Idboj ‘fi(. y of Jui J‘l; and bought a o0 i Jomi bed Uil Bill made Jems and read it in couldn’t neither- the day’s rois- him put the light out. ‘But even then (ML