The price of yearly subsbription to THE THEATRE is four dollars in advance. The editor solicits contributions from the readers of THE THEATRE, and suggests that old play-bills, and scraps relating to the stage, notes, news and items appertaining to the different arts, would be acceptable. It is the desire of the editor to establish a widely-circulated magazine, and to further that end every good idea will be acted upon so far as possible. Care is always taken not to needlessly destroy valuable manuscript. All articles appearing in THE THEATRE are written especially for it unless credited otherwise. ENTRE NOUS. It seems to be really settled that next season the theatre which has attached to it the respected name of Wallack will be occupied by combinations and special attractions, and the company which contains a number of people who have become dear to the theatre-goers of this city will cease to exist as an organization. There is nothing very cheerful in this outlook. There is every reason to assume that Wallack's theatre should be better supported to-day than ever, and if mismanagement has brought about this state of affairs, it would be wise to resume, if possible, under a new system, and not let the name die out. It is stated that, of the present company, Mr. John Gilbert-who ought to finish out his days in New York-and Madame Ponisi have "secured engagements" at the Boston Museum. This is all very well for Boston, but does not speak very well for the town of New York. Since the retirement of Mr. Warren from the Museum Company there has been no one to fill his place, and the vacancy made by the death of Mrs. Vincent also created a gap. Now Mr. Gilbert and Madame Ponisi go to fill these places. Well, God bless them! The New York public will, however, endeavor to bury their WHOLE NO. 82. thoughts of the legitimate drama by worshiping more frequently at the shrine of Dixey, Wilson, and Davids, and Mr. Abbey will work to fill his pockets by chiseling the jewel-studded gravestone of the most notable theatre management in this country. MR. GILBERT began his career in Boston. He made his debut on the stage at the old Tremont Theatre, Nov. 28, 1828, playing with Mrs. Duff, who played Belvidera to his Jaffer. He also appeared that same year with Edwin Forrest. After playing in different parts of the country during the following five years, he again became associated with the Tremont Theatre, not only as an actor, but as its stage-manager, positions which he occupied from 1834 to 1843. He was a member of the Boston Theatre Company during the season of 1846 and 1847. He married his first wife in Boston, who worked with him there, but she has been dead twenty-two years. He also married his second wife in Boston. So, after all, considering his associations, Mr. Gilbert will undoubtedly meet with a very tender and sincere welcome in his old home. It is to be hoped he will live on and on, and occasionally be induced to appear on the New York stage. the contrary, I regard one as a triumphal arch, and pay it proper respect by ducking under it. I have used an umbrella in a great many parts I have played. I have whistled on entering a new theatre, and when the 'tag' belonged to me I have always revisited it at rehearsals. I signed my three years' engagement at a prime minister's salary with Mr. George Edwardes on a Friday, and my wife, who was my first love, has a slight squint, and wore black on the occasion of our wedding. Now, thenhere I am, thirty-two years of age, after nine years' association with twenty-one successful and in two non-successful piecesan unequaled average, so my agent tells me. So how's this for superstition?" M. Marius says: "I thank God I have no superstitions of any kind, and will give you a few examples of my theories. 1. I would rather produce a successful play on a Friday than a bad one on a Saturday. 2. I would rather receive £13 than £12 at any time. 3. I would rather sit down thirteen to a good dinner than twelve to a bad one. 4. I do not believe in unlucky theatres or unlucky actors, but I believe in a good play, well acted, drawing good houses wherever it may be. 5. If there is one superstition I have it is to get the best of everything at the cheapest rate. Finally, I believe that the result of this cheerful letter comes from my being very despondent, and that last year has been about the worst I have ever had in my life. I hope to get good parts and a large salary in the future." MR. F. F. MACKAY'S recent discussion at the Lyceum Theatre as to whether the emotional actor really felt his part, or whether it is only acting has excited considerable discussion. It is well known that Adelaide Neilson used to shed tears copiously, and in the fourth act of "The Hunchback" as Julia, her tears often trickled to the ruination of her costume. One night after her performance at the Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia, as she went off at the fall of the curtain, she said in her excitement, Damn these tears!" W. E. Sheridan who was standing near quickly put in: "Don't let them flow!" ** ** ALL KINDS of devices have been used by actresses to add to the reality of crying. Some put vaseline under the eyes, and others use a tiny drop of mucilage. Miss Maddern needs no such subterfuge and has no difficulty in working up her feelings to such an extent that when she sings "In the Gloaming" in "Caprice," the fire-light scene always discloses her watery eyes and bedewed cheeks. Clara Morris's tears are real, and in Alixe" it always excited the wonderment of those around her to see the tears begin to drop at a given cue. Mary Anderson has tried hard to add this genuine effect but has never succeeded, although it is said that in "The Winter's Tale" she has been known to give way. But I doubt it. ** ** SPEAKING of Clara Morris, her recent performance of Alixe shows, that instead of losing any of her power, she is greater today than ever. When she keeps her mouth closed she is still the reminiscence of the Alixe who used to draw crowds to Daly's old Broadway Theatre in the days when Fanny Louis James, Charles Rockwell, Davenport and Sara Jewett were in the company. But as indelicate as I may seem to say it, the present condition of her teeth is such that her once sensitive mouth is now almost repulsive. Sara Bernhardt was enthusiastic over Miss Morris, but she said that her teeth destroyed whatever attractiveness she might have. In these days of tooth crowns and wonderful inventions, it is strange that Miss Morris does not attempt to have herself mended. I understand, however, that she hesitates only because of her physical weakness and highly nervous condition. But on this subject she has always been, more or less, a fanatic, and appears to have a penchant for displaying her eccentricities. It has been noticed that during some scenes she does not hesitate to imbibe frequently from glasses of cold tea, which are placed in convenient positions, but whether this is because she wishes to lubricate her organs or to convey an idea to the audience that she must have some stimulant to carry her through, has never been satisfactorily determined. * ** SOME one writes me to ask if real wine or liquor is used on the stage. Very seldom. In scenes where wine drinking is necessary, the fluid generally consists of syrup and charged water, and sometimes cold tea. Once in a while genuine champagne is brought on, but this is not very often in these days of managerial speculation. Modjeska used to insist upon the real article in " Camille," but I am not informed as to her present habits. * FROM the collection of books in her husband's library Mrs. James T. Fields has made for the March number of Scribner's Magazine a paper of reminiscences entitled "A Shelf of Old Books," dealing especially with Leigh Hunt and his friends, Shelley and Keats. A number of annotations and inscriptions by distinguished men are reproduced from the old books in fac-simile. LITERARY MEN'S WIVES" has often been the subject of debate; the question whether they retarded or assisted the prayers of their more than often eccentric husbands. Alphonse Daudet, the celebrated French novelist has a wife who works for his interests constantly. She goes with him to all kinds of places in order to help him to find description for the story he is writing. “It is my wife," he says, "who has most often had to endure these repetitions of my spoken work-the changes run upon the subject twenty times over. What should you think my killing Sidonie? **Of allowing Risler to live? * * What ought Delobelle, or Franz, or Claire to say in such a case?' And so on from morning to night, every moment, at meals, driving, on our way to the theatre, on our return from a party, during those long cab drives which one has to take through the silence and the sleep of Paris. Ah, poor artists' wives! It is true that my wife is so much of an artist that she has taken part in everything I have written. Not a page but she has read it, retouched it, thrown upon it some of her beautiful blue and gold sand; and yet she is so modest, so simple, so little of a literary woman. At one time I had expressed all this and my gratitude for her tender and indefatigable collaboration in the preface to Le Nabab,' but my wife would not allow that that preface should appear, and I have preserved it only in a dozen presentation copies, very rare nowadays, which I recommend to bibliophiles." THIS is not a country of large editions of books, if you compare the most successful sales with those of England and France. There are, exceptions, however, but even American books frequently find a larger sale in England than they do here. At a recent dinner in London tendered to George Routledge, the veteran publisher, he said, "That in 1852 a London printer brought him 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' to sell to the trade in town and country. It was a common thing," said Mr. Routledge, "to see six first-class passengers in one compartment reading this book coming up from Brighton in a morning. We have frequently sent out 10,000 copies in a day. The stererotype plates got worn out-the printer not being able to supply the demand-and other rival editions coming out, we were under the necessity of getting a new set of stererotype plates prepared, with a long introduction by the late Earl of Carlisle, which gave it a distinctive character, his lordship being a personal friend of the authoress. This book, in the various editions we published, from sixpence to six shillings, has reached a sale by us alone of upward of 500,000 copies up to this time, and still Uncle Tom' is lively." THE clever young character actress, May Robson, who has been connected with the Madison Square Home Company, for two years past, has just been engaged by Mr. Frohman, for his Stock Company, at the Lyceum, for next season. By the way Mr. Gillette has just selected Miss Robson, from all others, to play the part of Miss Ashford, in the "Private Secretary," which he opened in Boston with, on Monday last. Mrs. Seligman will fill the place of Miss Robson, in “Jim the Penman" during her absence. ** MISS GERTRUDE BARRETT, daughter of Lawrence Barrett, sailed for England, February 15th, on the new North German Lloyd steamer Larne. She goes abroad to visit Miss Mary Anderson at her home, at South Hempstead, and also to see her fiancé Miss Anderson's brother Joseph. Miss Barrett is about eighteen years of age, and a very lovely girl. Joseph Anderson is about twenty-five years of age, and the only fault I ever heard ascribed him was that he" is entirely too good." He is a devout Roman Catholic, worships his sister, and is blessed by a splendid physique. Before he grew a beard his resemblance to Miss Anderson was startling. ** I HAVE received the following letter from St. Paul: DEAR SIR: Probably the most eccentric and remarkable performance of Dixey's "Adonis" ever given, took place at St. Paul. While the company were at Minneapolis, the thermometer dropped one night to forty-two degrees below zero, and the company, unused to sudden changes, did not know how to prepare for them, and as a result, principals and chorus were all afflicted with severe colds. When they reached St. Paul ready to open Monday night, a long conference was held to decide whether to play that night or not, but an enormous house had been sold, and play they must. When the graceful Miss Tinnei's opening speech "Come Astea" was barely recognized in "Cub Ardea," the audience smiled somewhat, but when Miss Summerville began to talk about the "Innocend vflladge baiden," and to do the sneezing act between each sentence, and even the versatile Dixey to use a superfluous amount of b's, d's, g's and handkerchiefs, the audience caught on and roared with merriment. When Summerville remarked that she was "going to faintd," Dixey said, "Give be a troche firsdt." The voice of the old man in the chorus when he tried to reach low D, flew suddenly up among the flies, and even the property hog seemed to have the asthma. Dixey's "Englishz you do" seemed to amuse him as much as the audience, and he remarked at the end of the performance, that he would not go through the torture again for a red-headed girl or a white horse. C. H. W. Trophonius. AN EXCELLENT PICTURE, GENIAL Harry Edwards, looking somewhat as he did in the old California days, when he was Prince of Bohemia, stands out in the current number of THE THEATRE as the frontispiece of that excellent periodical. Mr. Edwards is a classic in the theatrical world, and in literary life has no mean place. as his entertaining book, “Mingled Yarns," bears a witness. Mr. Deshler Welch is to be congratulated upon furnishing so excellent a picture of so excellent a man. NEVER WITHOUT A GOOD IDEA. THE THEATRE is a magazine never without an article that presents some new, good, instructive and interesting idea to the reader. It is the best and highest-toned publication of its kind. Mr. IN THE LIME-LIGHT'S GLARE. THE season at Wallack's, Abbey has thus far been a tempestuous doubt. It now resolves into a prosy certainty. The sincere manager has grown ashamed of seeing the public draw rosettes of tissue paper out of his grab-bag, and now he spreads on his counter the fruits whose mellowness can be sworn to by anyone. Gems that are supposed to shine with the sure and regular effulgence of the firmamental stars. Winter must labor in the atmosphere of something like a paradoxical hypothesis when he engages to supply the Tribune with the eventful glamour that a first night of "London Assurance" can occasion, and it must trouble sorely the finest inventive skill of Mr. Wheeler to blossom again with modern thought in The World to mark another initial showing of “Old Heads and Young Hearts" at Wallack's. But the edict is out, and the comedies are in ambush for us. We shall like the dear old things with their serene smiles, their silvery bloom, their wigs, patches and snuff-boxes. What would Wallack's have done had the old comedies neglected to have been written? Kept young Robertson, perhaps, at two hundred a week, to stay in the fashion of failing by the month. It doesn't need stage management to put on an old comedy at Wallack's. It goes on and takes its place automatically, the gas-man gives the key a single turn, and there you have Coghlan squaring away and pulling in air to last her through the description of the hunt. The flats and wings are sentient and run into place alone, while the scene-shifters sit about on the dressing-room stairs and smoke cigarettes. We can none of us count on life, on fame, on good digestion, but we can count on the annual flux of old | comedy at Wallack's, no matter who manages the house. Mr. Abbey has been criticized expansively for his management of Wallack's this sea fortunateness, he has failed with his new theatre as completely as would have been possible had he given it to some schoolboys to handle for him. The house had run a long way out of popular favor before he took it, so he had not only to sustain but build up. He has retrograded. Some peo ple say he employs numbskulls or uncultured boors for his business assistants. Others believe that he has instilled newer and fiercer blood into his stock instead of seasons. reproducing the property antiques or dead And these last are not wrong. It shows a lack of progress for a manager to be afraid of leaving the beaten path of past endeavor, and to pull the same strings decade in and decade out. There is a sickly sentiment attached to the dethroning of a once popular idol. But iconoclasm is often a virtue, and the manager who can find and offer a new and beautiful image to the public is wiser and more valuable than he who simply buys the moss-grown fixtures of an age that could not discriminate as this one does. A John Gilbert is a dear old talented ornament till he peters out in hopeless senility, but jeunesse ceases to be jeunesse after it gets married and is fat, and slim, spontaneous womanhood with something to learn, is an improvement upon heavy torpidness that runs in a well-greased groove of conventional adequateness. The feminine element of Mr. Abbey's company has been weak to the verge of mushiness. The idea of never getting beyond Rose Coghlan has been preposterous for the last five years. Managers have not yet become thoroughly alive to the fact that the era of Coghlanism, Davenportism and Langtryism is on the They should realize that we can sacrifice the sure poise and the nerve of physical comfortableness for the hesitation, the helpless grace, the nervous transcendentalism of girlishness. If you saw Annie Robe on the first night of "Paul Kauvar” you know what Coghlan cannot do. If you have heard Minnie Maddern sob you know what is impossible to Davenport. If you have been in the blessed glow of Cora Potter's gaze you can appreciate the glacial, wane. |