The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 11, 1902, Page 10

THE CALL. SUNDAY Harrigan ar the GRAND QPERA Hovrsx preacher—who has smettled down tn a little town In Germany, w a small church, the cong: is not cultivated up to h the people won let him leave They say: ‘We do not understa that yoa say, bu we know that it must be great and fi “That is the same spirit that sends the public to see some plays; some of the modern productions Shake O the uninitiated it ts the eas: speare and Ib pose that g ir 14 to win 2 d they are much peras—not balf as bad as they sound.” from Edward Quite on a different pk H at Fischer's, arrigan are Kolb and Dill, who have the distinction of being the ) 2 & 3 youngest comedians of any prominence s - In America. Neither is over 28 years old, € and each has reached the top of the lad- der in less than three years. And this is how they did it: 4 Each of them has had a long and ard ous athletic £ t £ three y t symnastics and . the ho ceptionally of which were ments of the comic those days. Young Ferris wa merry comedians an ever growing ambition to be of them. While rustling “props™ he prac- : ticed jig steps, fugny falls and facial con tortions, and c if I could on night the occasion arose. Joe Herbert was playing Mustapha “Fatinitza,” and having been taken sick, - 2 the management cast about for a substi- tute. The property boy had no friend at court to plead his cause, so he boldly of- fered his services, telllng them that he 1 knew the part and was confldent that he m could get through without any serious o R break. With some misgivings he was ac- smae fann cepted. ‘‘Here is my opportunity,” thought the Fadward Hafr{.gcu; ocxRAND orcsra Hovsxz vival of his own plays as soon engagement at the Gr bouse and returns to New York t is not slone that there is laugh- it takes a wrestle with good breeding, the moth of snobbery flickers and dies. None of the Dooleys were snobs. nor the Reillys. Mary Ann—True for you. Reilly—The Reillys were all far-seelng men. Ly father was & pawnbroker end so am I, but 1 never raised my boy Ned to business. Mary Ann—Ned is not ashamed of it. Reilly—No, nor me Mary Ann—Then why didn’t you raise Ned And, as Herrigan says Reilly—Well, there is something about our trade that prevents a man feeling aisy in high My father could have been an M. P, at home but for his.calling. profession must not be mentioned in the glided salons of the upper circles. There's a margin betune pawning a railroad and an eight-day clock. The poor welcome me with a smile, and creations o0 popular. Witness these few lines selected at random from “Rellly and the 400" as evidence: ery 1= & moth 5d glitter of soclety, Our particular that files about in the wlare the rich with a frown, but tc-day society looks up to my boy without smelling the taint of an unredeemed pledge. And it 1s such good-natured, homely wit as this that brings laughter for its own sake: Mary Ann—What'll T talk about. Reflly—The works of the country. Mary Ann—The boiler works? Reilly—Boiler works! Would you balaklam the four hundred? Mary Ann—No, but what will T tell them? Rellly—Tell them of the aristocracy of Ire- land. Mary Ann—Sure they're all in New York. S And there s much sarcasm that cuts both ways—at the frivolities of the most exalted as well as at the aspirations of the most lowly in soclety. Read these from ‘“Cordelia’s Aspira- tions.” Dan has grown rich and Corde- lia is cutting a wide swath: Dan—Where's Cordelia? 4 Planxty—In the arms of Morpheus, Dan—In another man's arms? Planxty—No man, no—the arms of Morpheus s a classical quotation. : . s e Honora—Well, well, Danfel; are yeo moving again? Dan—No; I was taking this bundle of wash- ing to the laundrv, Honora—That's strange. To-dav's Thursday and Monday was always Cordelia’s washing day. Dan—'Tis strange; but how did you find us in our grand new house? Honora—From Mr. Puter. Dan—Ah. Honora—1 went next door and I axed for Mulligan, and ‘they directed the to the stable. Dan—What? Honora—Thetr coachman’s name {s Mulligan, Dan—Didn't they know Cordella moved in here? Honora—No, they thought some poor family moved in here yesterday to take charge of the place while the owner went away. Dan—Away? i Honora—Yes. They sald every family on Madison avenue was away to Saratoga, Long Branch or Burope. Dan—Didn't they know Cordella gave & grand gilded reception here last night? Honora—No. They thought that the poor family that moved in were having & good tima, bekase the real artistocratic upper-tendom quality families don't have receptions in the summer, Dan—Oh, well, lave it go st that. Did yeu. miss me in Mulligan's alley last night? Honora—Did we miss you? Faith, that's what T come up to tell you about. Dan—TI didn't get in till € this morning. Honora—Why? Dan—1 started downtown, but T didn’t get as far as the alley. I stopped at Casey's and there was a fight in the back room and I ref- ereed it. Honora—'Twas too bad you' couldn‘t hear what the neighbors said about you. Dan—Tell me, Mrs. Dublin. Honora—Well, Kelly the milkman, Dolan the truckman, Gilligan, Milligan and all the neighbors were talking about you. Dan—They couldn’t say but good o' me. Honora—The praises and the flattery and the unconimus they gave you would fill & book. Dan—Ah, well, they know me. Honora—Where's Cordelia? Dan—8he's not up yet Honora—What, not up, o'clock ? Dan—You mustn't rise too early In soctety. Honora—Cordelia was always up at half past 5 and had your breakfast at 6, Dan—That's all changed now. Honora—How ? Dan—Well, I'm to have my breakfast at 1 o'clock in thie day and then a lunch at 7, and the great supper in the middle of the night, and then I'm to-lead the cotillon and receive 11 5 in the morning, when I go to bed. She's making a, change in me tout assembly. Honora—Are you going to the assembly? Dan—Not from this dlstrict. by e, . Cordella—Why dldn’t you come home on the elevated last night? Dan—Oh, that's so. Con Higgins fell off the big grain elevator loading barley at pler forty yesterday. Cordelia—I'm not speaking of a grain eleva~ tor or Con Higgins. Dan—You remember Con Higgins? Cordella—No, I don't. Dan—When we had the raffle for the stovs *twas he that sang the “Maid With the Marble Eyer and it's near 1 -y Cordelia—Oh, 4id I ever! Dan—And there's Wally McSweeny. Cordella—Don’t talk of that man. neath me, Dan—He lived beneath you for twenty years in Mulligan’s alfey. Cordelia—Stog, sir! place in my présence. Dan (locking at Cordelia’s riding hat)—Are you wearing me new Sunday hat? Cordella—Don’t you know’a riding hat when e one? Go and put on your breakfast He's be- Never mention that low you gown. Dan—Do you mean the coat wid the tassels on ft? Cordelia—TYes, sown. you stupld. Yer morning Harrigan's own opinion of the difcul- ties of acquiring fame is all summed up in the single sentence: “You can buy ‘Hamlet’ for 15 cents, but ~find your Hamlet.” . e+ e But if you are & woman and beautiful, you will find your chief stumbling block on the road to fame lles In the constant comparison you will have to suffer with some other actress of greater beauty. Marian Stone, the new Gibsonesque beauty of the Nelll company at the Cali- fornia Theater, 15 sald to look lke Max. ine Eilliott. She will have a hard time to lve it down, or rise above it to an individ- uality of ber own, unless she is content— as many another actress of less charm and talent has been—to borrow Miss El- lott’s crown of fame and wear it However, Miss Stone is not that sors. She is a Louisville belle, one of the great- est beauties in the blue grass State, and already she has set half of San Fran- cisco’s clubdom by the ears. Beauty alone will give her fame on the stage. She had won a higher place in society before she ever thought of the theater. She is an intimate acquaintance of Senator Black- burn and his family of Kentucky; also of Senator Willlam Mason of Illinois; has been a brilliant figure at many a White House reception in Washington; attended dozens of diplomatic dinners at the na- tion's capital, and even hobnobbed with several of the Princes and crowned heads of Europe. Before going on the stage she dined at the same table with Emperor Franz Jo- sef of Austria, and attended a garden party where the present King of England was also present. She entertalned on her private yacht, “The Marion” (which, by the way, cost $60,000), has ascended Mount Fujiyama in Japan; knows Osaka, Nagasaki, Calcutta, Lucknow, Bombay, Ceylon, Egypt, South Africa as well as she knows the boulevards of Paris or the winter gardens of St. Petersburg. She can come close to telling you the rates on « excess baggage from El Paso, Tex., to Ceylon or Port Sald. By special author- ity she was permitted to fire a big cannon at the famous Agra fort, constructed in the sixteenth century by the Emperor Akbar. Within this fort are the .palace and audience hall of the famous Shah Jehan and the “Pearl Mosque.” Amid all the famous tombs, mosques, shrines and temples of the famous old Agra, the greatest and most interesting, according to Miss Stone, is the splendid mausoleum built by Shah Jehan for his favorite wife, and where he also lies buried. And by a recent chance she met Prince Heary of Prussia. She is a direct descendant of the Earl of Ross of Ireland, and Sir Rob- ert Peel of Kings County, Ireland, and Kearneysville and Parsons Town, Ireland, were largely owned by her grandmother. Elizabeth Davenport, whose recent deatr has left her mother a large fortune. One of her uncles is the Hon. W. Davenport ‘Whithead, the prominent financier of San Jose, Cal. Her first appearance upon the stage was not with a very prominent theatrical company, but she had to make a start somewhere if she was to acquire fame, even if she did have money in her own right to pay the expenses of a whole com- pany of her own—several of them if need be. And now that she has attained to great prominence, this is what she thinks of it all: “I think that the public generally, though, Is gettng to know (oo much about the practical side of the theater, and understand too much about the tech- nical things. If I were going to write a play, I would attempt to say things that the public could not entirely understand, You know that in some of the swell ug; it you can sometimes talk about things a little over.the heads of several of those present, you become an added attraction, “I bave a friend—a wonderfully great coming comedian, “and I'll give ‘em all I've got in the shop.” And he conscientiously carried out his programme. He introduced business that was never heard of in the part, did cart- wheels, falls and various and sundry cen- tortions, till the other people in the cast were driven well nigh distraught, and John McWade, who was playing Iszet Pasha, ran him off the stage and threat- ened to annihilate him. Hartman had made his hit with the \xdlenco. however, and then and there aduated from the property business, ext season he was engaged as secend cpmedlan, and—well, most of our readers know of his progress since then. ‘And strange as it may seem, too, to the uninitiated, those who have won the greatest success on the stage are eoften the least anxious to continue in the pro- fession. This is the case with dainty lit- tle Frances Keppler, who is the sensation at the Chutes this week. She is one of the cleverest dancers on the stage, aven though she is only 14 years old, but it is because of her youth that she is going to leave the stage and go to school again. Aty And apropos of the difficulties of ac- quiring fame—they aré nothing to the troubles that follow after. Which recalls the tribulations of the eight pretty little English girls of the Pony ballet on Fri- day night of their last week at the Or- pheum. In the early morn of that day they had giyven all the fluffs and frills of their bal- let costumes to the laundry man, with strict injunctions to return them to the theater all white and crinkly by 8 o’clock in the evening without fail. Then In the afterncon they posted off to the Chutes in a body and had a merry time until such a late hour that they were obliged to bolt their supper in order to reach the theater in time. And there, shade of disaster, walted the laundry man with the awful tidings that the machinery of the ubs had broken down and—well, T Meyer- feld had the busiest evening of his career. The programme was changed so th the ballet could appear last—if it woul be able to appear at all. And all energ: was bent to provide a new wardrobe. The theatrical costumers were visited In vain —all the actresses at the other theat were besought for help—but they coul be of little assistance. And everybedy was almost in Meyerfeld hit upon the happy buying brand new lingerie of conv length and having it cut to fit. haste a well known shopkeeper for to open his store and messen. hastily dispatched for a corps of seam- stresses, the property room of the Or- pheum was cdnverted Into a dressmaking parfor and for the next hour even girls of the Pony ballét themsel worked with nerve-straining energy to sew yards and yards of shimmering laco on plain skirts to make them billowy enough, while the corps of dressmakers cut them off and tucked them In deep tucks to make them short enough. The Pony ballet vows it will lose a whole engagement before going through a second experience of that sort.