Evening Star Newspaper, September 25, 1921, Page 63

‘aking the 'LL say we're a queer lot. Us talk actors, as Inez would put it. Oh, I expect I'm qualified to 3 with the profession. Anyway, I've fizured in a first night nd I've discovered that I have a fully leveloped temperament. I'm not oasting about owning such a thing. 'm sort of jarred to think that I have t. It must be something like being old your heart is located on the rong side, or that you have gift for laying the snare drum. And I would have insisted that I as a perfectly norma! female young erson up to within twenty-four hours efore the dress rehearsal. It was bout then I began to develop a case jumpy nerves. I didn’t realize it at e time, but I must have caught it rom the others. For it swept through he company like a flu epidemic. The old hands showed it first. Mrs. ates, who does mum-mah and has een on the stage since the days of 'The Black Crook.” was the first to hrow a cat-fit. She began to stum- fect in from the first, bungled the st piece of business in the part, and nished the afternoon so hysterical hat some one had to light a cigarette or her. Then Sczernoff went fidgety nd took it out by snapping at me. “Easy on the rough stuff, old dear! warned him. “Go take a bite out of he scenery if you feel that way.” ‘But the next thing I knew I was lipping myself. I missed a couple of ues, nearly wrecked the big scene, nd found myself digging my finger ails into my palms and getting red in he ears. I'd just overheard a side re- ark by O. P. Biggs, who plays the ing. “If this keeps up,” he said, “I hould advise Ames Hunt to buy a ent and send us out on the medicine ircuit.” * k¥ K 7OU should have been In on that dress rehearsal, though. It was oo awful for words, and by the time t was over hardly any two of us on speaking terms. I was in . S state of mind that I couldn't ven be sorry for Barry Platt, who tood around with his jaw dropped nd his face white while we mur- ered his lines. But Mr. Hunt seem- d_quite calm. He's some manager. 11 tell the grand jury. “Yes, you're all pretty rotten, thank ou,” says he, smiling as though%it as a good joke. “The usual thing, loWgever. It will go differently to horPow night, when you have an au- #ence to buck you up. Don’t worry nd everybody get a good night's teep.” He had the true dope. We put over The Prince and the Flapper” as mooth and strong as if we'd had it n the try-out stands fof a month. t went big, too. No, I'm not going make a noise like a press agent, o you'll have to fill in the details. nd, anyway, you know what first ights are apt to be when an organ- ation like the Village Players puts n & new bill—and the manager's jends_out, most of the directors ith their friends, and the friends t the actors, if any. Every entrance reeted with enthusiasm and as many urtain calls as there are members of e cast. T didn't know It then, but a big oise by first nighters doesn’t always hcan 2 long run. Sometimes it's crely a sign llke the singing of ickets—six weeks to a frost. The thefs should have been wise to it. ut ey weren't. They went around atting each other on the shoulder, e women kissed and wept, and verybody agreed that the plece was sure-fire knockout. “Really, I didn’t think there were so any laughs in the lines” says O. P. iggs. “But you heard 'em, didn't oug Real haw-haws.” I1%rodded with the others. Yet I rew who had started it all. Inez, of urse. She was sitting in the fourth w with Uncle Nels, all primed and aded, waiting for that scene where he prince finds I've slipped a glass se into his palm instead of my hand. nd when he elams it on the floor with crash Inez uncorked that hee-haw ¢ hers, just as she did at the re- earsal. "And it touched off all tre ther hearty laughers, clear to the Lck rows. That was enough. From n on they all seemed to be dead this was a comedy they were lis- £ to and that it was perfectly all to laugh at the slightest excuse. ey did. It was a regular epi- . Those who were too dignified L TAKING OURSELVES JUST A TOO SERIOUSLY ! haw-haw chimed in with chuckles giggles. And every bit of it was veet and cheering to us. For we lew we were good. “Mo'll make Broadway before hristmas; you'll see, deart€” says rs. Bates, hugging me impetuous. ‘m going to take an uptown flat.” .“I knew we had a winner from the st,” said Sczernoff. “Just wait until 1 see the notices the newspapers ve us.” sven Barry had as bad a case as any ‘em. True, he still had on tap that ke speech he’d worked up to spring there should be wild cries for the ithor. Three days before the open- = he had stated quite emphatic that would give way to no such weak- . didn't believe in that sort of ing. and that any author who-did it ways made a bood of himself. Yet caught him going over his notes and - had admitted sheepish that if the \dience did insist on having a few ds from him he might give in. But. ey didn’t insist. Hardly any of 'em - \d ever heard of Barry Platt, any- v, and probably only a few won- red who he was. * k k * T the applause had gone to Barry’s head and the next thing knew he was inviting us all out over lines that she'd been letter | ®0H, BUCK UP, OLD DEAR! SAYS “AND DOESN'T IT STRIKE YOU, RARRY, THAT WE'VE ALL BEEN Bumps 4 for a midnight supper at The Purple Pup. That was where we had a chance to hand ourselves all these verbal bouquets. And after I'd lis- tened a while I was convinced that we had taken part in a dramatic sen- sation that would soon be the talk of the town. I could see long lines of limousines and tax!s streaming down ito Greenwich Village every night, box office queues three blocks long. and the S. R. O. sign hung out for every performance.. I wondered if the mayor or the governor happened to be out front for_the premiere, and if not why not. Would the critics give our piece a full column in the Imorning papers? And what should I say when they came to interview me at the apartment later on? Ought I to admit that I was just breaking into the game, or kid 'em along with mystery stuff? How about that Mor- rie Klaubert person, t0oo? Suppose he sent for me to come up and sign a contract for next year; should I stick to Ames Hunt a while longer, or take the candy while the taking was good? Gosh, but It does get you! This listening to the laugh ripples grow into roars, watching the fat man in the middle row rock his shoulders, and seeing the open-face motions spread from double A to the back rail. And then to have everybody were. You can hardly blame us for collecting the notion that we-ve got the world by the ear, can you? Of cousse, Barry insists on taking me home in a taxi. If I'd been living on Staten Island I believe he'd have chartered a steam yacht for the trip, provided there was one to be had. For he certainly was feeling rich and generous. Also grateful. “You've turned the trick for me, Trilby May,” says he. “Made me write the thing, got it placed. and then made it go. I—I'm going to kiss ! you.™ BIT “When?" says L “Right now, as the cab’s swinging into 6th avenue,” says he. “Well, why all the chatter about it, then?” says I. A And he was so hasty about it that he almost missed. “Were you ever a brakeman, Barry boy?” I asks. “Why?" says he. “I was only judging by.the per- formance® says I. “You know you don’t have to do that as if you were catching a mail sack on the Century Limited. This is no juggling ‘trick Here, lemme show you! It was a huge success, if I do say it. Not that we hung up any dura- tion record, or held the pose for a fadeaway; but it wasn’t any half portion, either. And Barry knew he'd executed something when it was over. “Say says he, taking a deep breath. “That sure was a hummer. I—I'm afraid you're no amateur, Tril- by May.” “Absolutely,” says L “We-do it right simply from instinct. -No! That's the finish. If you think you've started on a marathon yuo've got an- other guess. Besides, I'd rather hear you talk. Go on, Barry, tell me what & great man you're going to be. Walt until I take off my hat. There!- Now we're cozy and comfy—unless my hair tickles your ear. No?\ I sup- SHALL CAL THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D, C., SEPTEMBER 25, -1921—PART 4 | rather nice. Eh ladies out on reformers. ‘em a jolt. | good pal. earned it. either. “Some day," Columbus Circle. lobby?” I asked: “Uh-huh,” says he. | full length. “Then the and gooseberry green, * ¥ X X night,” says Barry. in the firelight. (line, what? myself. thought out. | start on Broadway.” Let's read ‘em together. over about 1 with me. Eh “All right," says I pose it is rather scandalous, but it's I hope there were no shocked old lower 5th avenue at that time of night, or no blue law For we mjght have given But 1 didn't feel the least bit wicked. He's such a clean, whole- | some vouth, Barry Platt, and such a And between us we owned the whole town that night It was ours to play with | or give away, or make over new. | weren't at ail timid about doing it, says Barry. be a new playhouse buiit up near | We shall call | *The Trilby May,' I think.” “With my portrait done hung outside the box office in the “And another in the smoking room down stairs—a ! color scheme of decorations ought to be freckle brown to match my complexion and eyes,” I suggests. «yOUR eves were wonderful to-i “Like opals How's that? T'll use that in the next you meet tell you how clever you|piay I write for you. Eh? Of course, {it'll be for you, and it will be a heap better than this one, for I know what 1 want to do now, and I'm sure of Yes, I have the part nearly And next time we'll “What a clever thought!" says I. Oh, I'm not kidding myself,” says T St ot With Barry——By Sewell Ford l We'd We “there’ll it in oils the Good “SOME DAY,” SAYS BARRY, “THERE'LL BE A NEW PLAYHOUSE BUILT UP NEAR COLUMBUS CIRCLE. WE | T ‘THE TRILBY MAY, I THINK.” “Bad b an? ot a line,” says Barry. mit I was tempted, but I've saved ‘em all up until I saw you. Haven't even taken a peek.” “Noble youth!" looking, says L. says I. “He Tantalus like an also-ran. Well, steam ahead.” “Let's see,” savs he. “Who'll we have first? 0ld Hey, Broun, eh?" 1 nods, so Barry opens a newspa- per. For a minute or 80 he scans the columns eager and then his eyes take on a puzzled look. “Can’t you find it?" I asks. He shakes his head and then goes up and down thg page again. “There —there isn't a word about ‘The Prince and the Flapper/” he finally an- noynces. ~ “No?” says 1. “Perhaps your critic was sick, or out of town, or some- othing like tha says Barry. “Sec here! ' He Phas nearlyyl. (‘nlunrsl about ‘The Antlcs of 1921’ though. All that about a cheesy girl show full of revamped vaudeville acts and whiskered jokes! But for a real play, not an inch of space! What do you know about that?” 5 1 didn’t have the angwer. I couldn’t even make a good guess at the mys- tery. So I did the next best thing. “Oh. well, he isn't the only dramatic critic in town. is he?” I asks. "' says Barry™ “And he'll prob- have something in tomorrow. Let's see what this other fellow gives us, Barry threw the newspaper on the floor and grabbed another. But I could see by his expression that he was getting another hard bump. Tore oblivion?" I asked. “Might_as well call it that” savs I'll come 0 and bring the lot|jual “We will mingle our blughes, as it were. Oh- hum! But I'm tired, Barry boy. I feel as if I could sleep right through to next week.” Barry. he. “I know a hit when I see one.{too. Whole column. display head, And ‘The Flapper's' it. You'll seelsigned. And 'The Flapper gets half when you get the morning papers.|a stickfull in the dramatic notes: That's all. A paragraph done by -some assistant. probably an ad man. No criticlsm at all. Just says that the Village Players put on a new bill and that O. P. Biggs, formerly with the Jewett company in Boston, was in'the cast. Biggs! Say, that's the final stroke. “But Biggs was pretty good,” I suggests. ‘“Bah!” says Barry. “Nothing about the new leading lady. Miss Dodge. Nothing_about the pla: Say, what's the use?” “Tough luck, Barry boy.” says I. “But there are a few others. Perhaps some of 'em left the girl show early and looked in on us.” * ok X % I'l' ‘was poor guess. They hadn't. The longest notice printed about ‘The Prince and the Flapper’ was a ten- line paragraph, which Barry is merely a rehash of some press stuft sent out by Ames Hunt a week ago. And there sits Barry Platt, who a few hours before was talking about dictating terms to Klaubert, slumped in a chair, with his chin on his necktie and a lot of crumpled newspapers at his feet. “All because Hunt doesn’t take big advertising space,” grumbles Barry. “Can’t, you know, with that little house way down town. And what do the critics care about art? Bah!" - “Then we haven't made the town otice, eh?" T asked. Barry. “How disappointing!” says 1. “From what I heard last night I thought— well, I thought Brooklyn bridge would be jammed with the people coming over, and that extra ferries would be running from Jersey. I had myself all posted up, too, as a new theatrical star, just discovered. And it seems that nobody knows I'm even twinkling.” Barry gives a ghost of a smile. “There was one motice I didn't read to ‘you,” says he. “It's a boost, too. Listen: ‘A play called ‘The Prince and the Flapper,’ by'—get this now— 2 Perry Blatt, was produced last night by the Vil Players. The scenery, painted by Hadley Hall, was very .well dome.’ Ye gods! The scepery! And I crash into fame as Perry Blatt! the linotyper who did that to me. He almost looked as if he could. In fact, he glared at the rug so vicious that T had to chuckle. “Funny, isn't it?” he asks bitter. «Oh, buck up,-old dear!” says L “And doesn’t it strike you, Barry, we've all been taking ourselves a bit serfously? Let's see, how many did we have in the house last night? Eight hundred? are about five million more who were not among those( present. Think it over. Lemme see one of those news- papers. Huh! Quite a lot going on “Happy dreams,” says Barry, as he |besides playing openings, isn't there? left me at the elevator. “If any,” says L. to-be too busy for dreams.” For it's generally when I've flivvered | New Rochelle’ murder mustery that at something that the thought works ' geems to There's an election coming off soon. “I think 'm going | I suppose some folks are more or less interested in that. And here's that be flguring prominently. insist on running a night shift. Wor-| There's the news from Ireland, too; ries and faflures will follow you to)and something about the mew tariff the feathers, I fine rocks you to sleep gentle and then steps outside to wait until it can ride | big railroad smash out in Indiana. in again on a sunbeam. And now, for the first time in my young career, I was soothed by the thought that|g great and thrilling event as we had |'would forget it before meorning. Trilby May Dodge was about to become a regular person, and not a walking joke from Tamarack Junction, Minn. It looked like I had arrived, and thQ; maybe I was soln' to to tell the world about. be somebod: So I snuggled down under tire covers and hardly|Trilby May, wiggled a toe for eight hours. I was just finishing my second corn muffin and the twin of the first soft boiled egg when Barry came breesing | You seem to have kept your head on in with a bundle of newspapers under | your shoulders.” his arm. “Wux-tree! Wux-tree! the big comedy hit.” AN about | but’success only | bill, and another scandal in the po- lice department, and an account of a Say, I'm beginning to suspect, Barry, that maybe our first night wasn’t such it sized up for. Eh?" 2 * X ¥ % BARBY stares at me a moment and then grins. “T guess you're right, ays he. ‘“We threw a pebble into the Atlantic and then looked for a tidal wave. All but you. “It was a bit wobbly along about midnight,” says I “Of course. T don’t understand this . newsoaper “Have you read | “I'll ad- | has “The critic favors the Antics. | says | LD Washington actors come to the Rambler from many and | distant parts of the world. In this narative one hails us| from California, where after an ap- prenticeship in politics, he is now in the service of his adopted state, as a member of its legislature. Many of you remember Ed Baker, who was mana- ger and top-liner and all that of Baker's Dramatic Company, organiz- ed in Washington in 1891. Well, Ed lsI out in California and is extensively known as “The Hon. Edwin Baker,” representative of the 75th district in the assembly of the California legis- lature. Ed is now doing his third term (not turn) in the assembly. When Ed !steps out on a stage now the orchestra strikes up, “Behold the Conquering Hero Comes,” “Hail, Hall the Gang's Al Here,” or some sweet melody like that, and the chairman of the meet- ing says, “We have with us tonight a statesman whose voice can be heard from the Bay of Fundy to Key West, from Hell Gate to the Golden Gate, and from the Little Falls of the Po- tomac to the Big Trees of Maiposa— a man you all delight to honor and who is a credit to the climate of Cali- fornia (applause). 1 now take pleas- ure in_introducing to you the Honor- able Edwin Baker,” (prolonged ap- ause and hats thrown in the air). hen Ed _begins by saying, not Friends, Romans, Countrymen,” nor Most Potent, Grave and Reverend Seignors,” but “Fellow citizens and electors of the 75th district” Many of Ed's old friends back home will smile with happiness to hear of his success in California politics, but some of them will weep to hear that Ed is a republican. Ed is not only a republican, but he has even gone | to the extent of being a reformer. i Lying on the Rambler's desk is a { card which has gone through a po- | litical campaign. On it is Ed's plc- i ture. He is dressed up like a states- man, but his _smiling eyes, classic ! nose and the dimple in his chin are the same as when he lived in Wash- ington. Reside his picture on the card is this: “Re-elect Edwin Baker, rcpublican candidate for assembly, | seventy-fifth district. primaries, Au- | gust 1. Resident and taxpayer of District fourteen years. For good { government on a business basis. In- dorsed by ‘the Association for Better- ment_of Public Service. Residence, 118 West 23d street. Campaign head- | ters, Laughlin building. Phones, | ess, 14569: residence 85, this is in Los Angeles. Ed is Al , 2 member of the committees on gov- | smental efficiency and economy, la- { bor and capital, manufactures, reap- | portionment, state grounds and parks, and ways and means. * X % ¥ AROXNG the junk which.a man col- lects and to which he generally refers as “among my treasured pos- sessions™ is an old circular, and 1 as- sume that you would like to read it. I say that because 1 am going to use it anyhow. Here it is: “Season 1893-94. Office of Baker's Dramatic Company, 143 F street northeast. Edwin Baker, manager. “The attention of lodges, societies, etc., is called to the above company, organized two years ago, for the pur- pose of furnishing a reflned and complete evening's entertainment, for the benefit of such lodge or society who might desire their services. “Our repetoire, embracing ‘Hick’ Farm,' ‘Take That Girl Away/ Honor Bound,’ ‘The Spectre Bride- groom, ‘At the Picket Line’ ‘Meg’s Diversion,’ ‘East Lynne’' ‘Withered Leaves,’ ‘Woven Web,' ‘May Blossom,’ ‘Rip Van Winkle,’ ‘Confederate Spy. ‘Bound by an Oath,’ ‘Little Sentinel and 'The Charcoal Burner, includes both comedy and drama. “The company is.composed of such well known dramatic people as Edwin Baker, Harry Kennedy, Harry Ander- son, George M. Tysinger, Harry Alli- son, William T. Frazier, Miss Helen Prentiss Donohue, Miss Gertrude Hamilton and others. “This company points proudly (Ed was pointing with pride even then) to the complete satisfaction and pleas- ure they have given the many hun- dreds who have witnessed their en- tertalnments this. and last season, having no failures to record, but each and every performance has been a glorious success, both financidlly and artistically. Therefore, we can say our record of the past s evidence of the future. All communications re- garding dates, terms, etc., should be addressed to the manager, at the above address. Among my clippings I have this undated scrap, which was published in a local newspaper about 1893: “The Baker -Dramatic Company produced ‘Nevada,’ a western drama, last Monday evening at Sheridan Hall, Soldiers’ Home, under the aus- pices of Henry Wilson Post, No. 17, G. A. R. All the characters were well assumed, Edwin Baker winning the lion's share of applause (lions were always hungry for applause) in his original character of ‘Sllas Steele. The remaining characters of the play were taken by Miss Kate E. Halloran, ; Miss M. Cantwell, Miss Helen Pren-| tiss Donohue, and Messrs. H. D. An-| derson, John C. Bennett, Harry Ken-| nedy, George M. Tysinger, Harry Alli- son, William T. Frazer and T. D. Golden.” Here is another little clipping, made, it is believed, in 1893: “Harry Kennedy and Harry Allison of the Baker company will soon leave for New York and Philadelphia, re- spectively. Mark W. Howe will take Mr. Kennedy's place in the company.” Ed keeps up his interest in the stage. Out Los Angeles way, in a magnificent open-air theater among the hills of Hollywood, a theater, which they call “El Camino Real The- ater,” a large soeiety is presenting ! “The Pilgrimage Pla; depicting the life of Christ, “being a literal trans- lation of the gospel compiled in dra- matic form by Christine Wetherill Stevenson.” In this play, now in its second sea- son at Hollywood, Edwin Baker, be- sides being assistant Stage manager, takes two parts, Father of the Dumb Boy and Simon the Cyrenean. Ed's e at all. But everything isn't is it?” lo;;l;y he admits that there is still bope. And sure enough, there was. Two of the evening editions had real ice things to say about us and the n Say, I could murder| lay. One critic was almost enthu- siastio. True, he did squander more adjectives on Hadley Hall's Swiss mountain set than on the piece prop- er, but he added that Miss Dodge, as the Flapper, did a very creditable bit of work. And by dinner time Barry had been assured that the big critics would be down later in the week to see if there really was any- And there | thing in his play worth mentioning. I'd had my hunch, though. I knew that I’'d made a broad jump and had landed fairly well; better than I ever hoped for. It was a big thing—for me. But I was also getting hep to the fact that I hadn’t shaken Manhat- tan Island to its foundations. The subway hadn’t caved in, the Metro- politan tower was still standing, and there was no:panic in the theatrical district. Tonight folks would stream into the movie houses, or have late dinners, or gather in somebody’s apartment for poker or bridge just as usual. Not one in a hundred would ven know that such a plece as “The §1-nper" was being played, and ten chances to ome the party who dsl'd, why kid myself that I had made it easy for Maude Adams to retire? I chirked up and hummed a tune as I got ready to start for the theater. 1 caught Ines staring curious at me out of those calm gray eyes of hers. “It's swell, eh,” she asks, “being TElk actress?’ “In the head, yes,” says L .'“That 1s, if you don’t watch out.” “You feel that way?’ says Inex. *I &ia” says L “But I've had a puncture; and just at present, Ines, Tm bumping along on the rim 25 Sewei Ford.) MISS LUCY DE. LETTER From California—Baker's Dra- 2 matic Club, Organized in the Capital in 1891—From Stage ‘to Politics—Just a Word About Famous Race Horses and Their Records—’rhe Shakespeare Club. AN, ACTRESS. From the Brady-Handy collection. father, Willlan-H. Baker, is llving at Sawtelle, Calif., and his son “Eddie” Baker is prominent in the “movie business. * %k ok (GOING back into the early 90's, the Rambler finds accounts of two local dramatic clubs which have here- tofore escaped mention in these an- nals. One was the Capital City Dra- matic Company and the other the Richard Brinsley Sheridan Dramatic Company. Among the players in the Capital City company were Alice Ir- win, Jenny Young, Louise Ennis, Grace Ross, Ruby Irving, Robert W. Test, Wittiam T. Kirby, Bramwell Davis, Elbert Richmond and D. M. Edwards. 1 have this un- dated clipping: “The Capital City Dra- matic Company made its first bow to the public several weeks ago at Mar- tyn College Hall and it bids fair to rank among the most prominent ama- teur organizations of Washington. The programs to be presented by this! company will be in the form of a triple biil similar to the performances presented by the late Rosina Vokes. The plays will be in one act and of a very refined order. such as are now being presented by the Linthicum In- stitute boys. Nine dates have been made for the month of April” Among the players in the Richard Brinsley Sheridan Company were Mary T. Lloyd, Lena Bright, Sara Wheeler, Jennie Lloyd. Mrs. J. R. ely, John R. Neely, William H. Myers, Fabian Columbus, O. L. Suess, H. W. Weber, Fred Dalton, John A. Bresnahan and Guy E. Jenkins. Three of their bat- tle horses were “Our Boys,” “In Hono; Bound” and “The Midnight Charge. And speaking of “battle horses” reminds the Rambler that he has in his pocket a letter from his old race horse friend, Charlle Harris, whose formal name is Charles T. Harris, ad- visory member of the Harness Horse Association. Charlie js not really in- terested in honest-to-goodness thor- oughbred race horses, but for the past hundred vears or so he has been an authority on trotting horses. 1t may interest vou to know that the hon- orary president of the Harness Horse Asmociation is E. F. Geers (Ed Geers), who has held the reins over the fast- est trotters that ever pulled a sulky against a stop watch. Ed Geers and Charlie Harris go back to the days when Flora Temple gave us thriils by stepping a mile at Kalamazoo, Mich,, in 2.19%. You remember that that event came to pass October 13, 1859, and it occasioned more talk among the American people than Con- gress can get off in a week. Eight years after Flora Temple made her record came Dexter, at Buffalo, step- ping a mile in 2.174%. Four vears 1':.;:‘!;( (1!7q1) !Golgnml!h Maid, at Mil- ee, September 6, 18 the time down to 217. eyt e next summer (June 9, 1872) th same wonderful mare clipped a r}u-.—f ter second off the record at Mystic Park, Boston. Two years later (July 16, 1874), at East Saginaw, she brougnt the time down to 2.16 flat. August 7 that year she lowered it 2.15% at Buf- falo; five days later, at Rochester, she brought it down to 2.14%, and on September 2 of that year, at Mystic Park, she cut her time for the mile to 2.14. Then followed Rarus, St. Julien, Maud 8., Jay-Eye-See, Sunol, Nancy Hanks, Alix, The Abbot, Cresceus and Lou Dillon, who trotted a mile at Readville, Mass., August 24, 1903, in iwo minutes. Cresceus clipped off a quarter second at Wichita two months later; Lou Dillon retaliated by doing a mile at Memphis October 24, 1903, in 1.58%; Uhlan brought it down to 1.58 at Lexington, in 1912 and then, paced by a running mate, at Lexington Oc- tober 10, 1913, that great horse brought down the time to 1.541. Well, Charlie drops in to see me at The Star when he is down my way, but last Sunday, when he read the “ram- ble” about Bill Thorne, Charlie Back- us, Billy Birch, Dave Wambold, Kate Fisher and the others he sat down and wrote me this letter: “Your. theatrical reminiscences of this date mention many old-timers that I have known. Of the Thorne's I think there was another son, Edwin, if T am not mistaken. Emily, the only daughter of Charles R., sr, was an accomplished actress and married John Chamberlin of this city. The Hamblin you mention as a member of ‘Kate Fisher's company was Tom and he was an actor of the robust school. Of all the Mazeppas, Adah Isaacs Menken was the most beauti- ful. One of her several husbands was my old friend, the late Robert H. Newell (Orpheus C. Kerr). whose heart she broke and who_died with her name on his lips. ‘Her poem, ‘Resurgane,’ is & classic. ~“The second wife of Charley Back- us was Kate Newton, who was once & ‘member of Miss Fisher’s company and was_for many years comnected With stock companies in New York city. You remember that a generous-sized mouth was one of Charley’s most wvalued possessions? I have heard him 2ay that when he saw it in a mirror it reminded him of a red morocco pocketbook. g “Dan Bryant once told me that “Dixie’ was originated by Dan Em- mett previous to the civil war and P. H. Buckler,| was first sung at his hall on Broad- way. Bryant asked Emmett if he following week's program and ‘Dixie’ was the result. “Some years ago, while at an In- diana race meeting Dan Emmett, then a hale old man, was pointed out to me. I made bis acquaintance and he told me the story of ‘Dixie’ as Bryant had told it.” * ¥ ¥ X GOMEWHERE back in the remote months of these narratives the Rambler wrote a few pages about the Shakespeare Club. and he has prom- ised some of his friends that he would not let the Shakespeare Club put it all over the Unity Clup, which flourished about thé same time. These old clubs gave many of our amateur actors and our real musicians a chance to get a_lot of talent out of their system. We would listen to recitations, “vocal selections™ and the reading of an “essay, could think up something new for the | and then if no| ~—g-" THE RAMBLER COMPLETES SERIES ON OLD DRAMATIC CLUBS OF WASHINGTON stew and then ride home in a horse car—or as near home as a horse car would take us. We used to have rip- roarious fine times! The Unity Club was organized In 1874 and lived a peaceful life for a long time. For many years Will C. Stierlin, llving at 1805 G street, was president; Mre. D. T. Voorhis, then living at 1428 Q street, was vice president; R. A. Phil- lips, then lving at 1422 New York avenue, was treasurer, and D. C. Hay- wood, then of 1106 O strect, was sec- retary. I have with me a card of in- vitation to attend “the fourth meet- ing of the season of the Unity Cluh. at the Elsmere, 1406 H street, Wed nesday evening, December 19, 1894 The card says that “Hon. W. J Bryan of Nebraska will entertain t club with a paper on ‘Income Tax Think of going to a meeting for a good time and listening to Jilliams Wenning Dryan talk on income tax’ It is written in the invitation that he would “entertain” the club! atx and little fishes! Wehat an evening of { pation! And yet even now the people who, with the hope of hooking some feeble-minded vietims send out invitations which tell that “The Hon. Gulduzzle Bunkem" or “the Hon. Pott B. Mushhead will a dress the meetin But in spite of the “entertainment’ j which the eternal candidate furnished with the paper on the income tax, we Ihad a good time at the Unity Club meetings. The club_several times met_at th of or Matthew G. Emer T sirect northwest 1 remember very happy H. B, Moulton presided a Stierlin, later president Recretary, read the minutes previous meeting. Gen. Bi a paper on The ch Ancient Li Lway of gelting { They confronted you at ever ing. i Maggie Maddox gave us a piano { selection. Ann Virginia Culbertson ro- cited two s which she had wri'- ten, Travis Cocker plaver the piano Mme. Dagny Rolland, Will Caulfield Harry Shelley and Mila S vorke AtLec whistled med, Love" and Bird,” Maud Jarvis recit from *“Ben Hur,” Will Conley imitations of the leading it age. Victor Poesche e entitled “Watermelons nd Bicksler did a turn on a do; cal nts, Barton Mil ted Inciting Against esar’—an _ old-f: Tecitation that has not bad a new 1i added to it for more than hundred rs—and Clint Balinger, Talbot Tu- Around amusing Bob Lowe plaved one of ihe period another meeting of the did no nd dramas remembe b It w have the pleasure 0 a paper from th e on “Income Ta “t a paper on | “The Aechinpus in “Ancient Litera- ture,” but just for the purpose of keeping us cheered up Dr. Artbur the MacDonald addr us o of “Experimentz! Criminology Walcott played x popular piano i 1 “Way Down Unpon and ang a new v Au Revoir But Not Lulu Facius playing the ong Good-Bye." ccotapan ment. The Walcott Orchestri wis | there—Mrs. W. H. Walcott. Blanch | Maude, Clinton and Will id., the way, I wonder where pleasant’ parlor musicians { Collins recited “Aux Italians” to slow piano music by Julia Singleton. Beu- lah Gilbert did a monologue. Miss Wilma Willenbucher sang “Time and ) Tide” with Mrs. Susanna Oldberg as accompanist. Ned Hay recited, Zot the instigation Scene—we | Strong in “instigations’—from Oth |To, with Barton Miller as Iugo and Bo Lowe as the jealous Moor, who raved about the handkerchief and let th: green-eyed monster get him Hammack and Talbot Pulizzi “A Pair of Lunatics,” and really | aia it to perfection! ! presidents of the Unity William A. Jack, now years young, and another was a Mr. Philp Ah. my friends, them were the gold- | an days! When little vellow gas jets were the etreet lamps. when the 14th street horse cars stopped at the foot of the hill and the Anacostia ome- they president refreshments were served we would stop in downtown and get an oyster Cheese and O the editor: I suppose most ladies and gents life sometimes has the same experience like myself name- ly they receive presents from un- known admirers which generally always takes the form of food stuffs or garments of one kind an- other or maybe jewelry though per- sonly my mail ain’t often cluttered up with rubies, saphires, lapis lin- guae and etc, but my worshipers mostly confines themself to daintys for the inner man as they figure that the way to a man’s heart is through their stomach though they’s a good many {men that if you took that route to their heart you would get caught in a traffic jam. However, the pt. is that a man like | myself often gats remembered by their readers in_the form of victuals and eatables and when I recelve same I always take the trouble to set down and write a letter of thanks to the donor couched in such polite turns that they will think they done me a favor whether the gift was welcome cr a drug on the market. Like for inst, once I was working on a paper in Chi and I had the kind of a job where you can do 3 or 4 days work ahead of time and then stay home and give the old brains a rest and one time I stayed away from the office 5 days on acct of it being the merry yuletide and when I finely went in the office they was a ibig package waiting there for me land it turned out to be a xmas tur- key which Mr. Yost the Mich. foot ball coach had sent it up from sh- ville and it had arrived 4 days pre- vious and the office boy had found parking space for it on the radiator. i * K X K BUT as soon as I could breath I set down and wrote the old boy a letter thanking him and telling him how much we enjoved the bird and etc. and he don't know to this day what a real thrill his gift give me and they's no danger of him reading same here as this article ain’'t the memcFirs of Napoleon or the 1921 foot ball guide. 1, Well, friends, the reason I am bringing up this subject at this time is on account of haveing just received another of these here presents and have wrote a card of thanks for same, but wile 1 was writeing it the idear come to me that maybe some of you folks is rignt this minute thinking of comeing acrost with some token of your esteem in the shape of delicacys for the abdomen and if so why should I set here in silents and leave you pick out the gift without knowing something in regards to my likes and dislikes and likely as not you would make the same mistake like this guy who T have just wrote the letter to, namels select some viand which is as welcom to me, as a bee sting and though I am well broughten up and would thank you just as heartily as if you ‘had of sent maple sirup or doughnut: still and all what is the use of leaveing you waste your money on some victual which the only enjoy- ment I will get out of it is throwing it in the ash can. So, my friends, here is a list of articles that if you have made up your mind to send me one of them please change your mind and thé both of us will be better off: Cheese, 3 Apple buter, - Sweetbreads, Bananas. Alligator pear, Egg plant. That is lrfl!&l list of the forbidden fruits around this joint and the greatest of“theese is cheese. in public | horse car turred on a turn-table at the navy yard gate! Other Gifts ‘By Ring W. Lardner. 17 SUPPOSE by this time my readers |1 ts burning up with curiosity in re- |gards to what was the present that this guy sent me and which I have Jjust wrote him the thank-you note |for same. Well friends, it was cheese and mnot just 1 cheese or 1 piece of cheese, but § boxes of cheese. That is what the bird sent me and that is what I thanked him | for though people who is in the side circle of my friends will tell vou that me thanking a bird Ccheese is like Carpentier thankin Dempsey for that second clip on the chin as cheese affects me the sam like that punch affected the greck god, and mot only that, but just hearing the word cheese sends the |slivers up and down my spine and the only reason I mention it now is to set myself right before the {public so as from now on they wo be no mistake and 1 only hope tk if they's anybody reading this herc that expects to invite me to their house for a meal that they will ¢ me victuals which is not tainted witlh this luscious viand as 1 have camn home from many a dinner iy starved because mine hostess had the idear that no dish was complet: unlest the hired girl smeared it with limburger. Cheese, my friends, is the favorite rations of a rat and people that says they love cheese has got the samc tastes as a rat and some of then even looks like rats. When a person wants to catch a rat they put chees: in a trap to decoy Reynard to the trap and when people wants to catch a fish they gencrally always put a angleworm on a hook. Well then, friends, if it is O. K. for people 1o put cheese dressing on salad, why ain’t it O. K. to go out wit a shovel after a rainstorm and some garnishments for the desser! course? * ok k% SO)IE of my readers who has got the cheese habit may take offense at my remarks on this subject and say to themself that I haven't no right to make such remarks about a articlc of food that pretty near cverybody eats and likes it. Well friends, in dc- fense of how I stand on this subject I would like to ask the question, do people really like it or do they just pretend like they like it, and if the latter ain’t the truth, why is it that Iwhen somebody mentions s man that you haven't no use for and they ask You what you think of him, you say: “I think he is a cheese.” Or take a man and a gal that is stuck on each other, why what ar- ticles of food do they pick out to call each other. The man gays: “How are you feeling tonight, duck?” And the gal says: “I am feelfg fine, lamb.” She @on't !say: “I am feeling fine, chees And when a man asks you what do you think of his wife, you say you think she is a peach. You don’t say you think she is a cheese, pot unlest {you want a punch in the eye. Many a Lall player has been put ous of a ball pk. for calling the umpire a cheese, but I never heard of one getting canned for calling one a dish of catmeal or a corn fritter. The word cheese is a slur and right- ly so, and that shows how cheese really stands with the public down in their heirt, and if cheese lovers 18 not convinced by these arguments why'I will close by merely reminding them that for some yrs. yet we will #till be paying the bills for a war which wouldn't of pever come off if they hadn't of been a cheese fad na- tion to stamt it. RING W. LARDNER. Great Neck, Sept. 23.