Effie Shannon, Emma Skerrit, Adeline Stanhope, Nelson Wheatcroft, Geo. R. Edeson, Harry Eytinge and Archie Lindsay. Mr. Fleishman is having the scenery painted, and promises a performance complete in all its appointments. McCaull's Opera House will be closed during Holy Week, and the "Ruddygore" company will start on a limited tour through the State, returning April 11. This is Col. McCaull's last season here as a manager, and his retirement from the Opera House makes a good opening for some enterprising manager with a strong stock company. No combinations need apply. If they do they will regret it, for the house cannot be made a financial success on that plan. Local pride and preference point to one manager here, but his hands are too full to allow him to undertake the enterprise. If a petition would induce either Daly or Aronson to take the place as a branch establishment, the writer will guarantee a list of names as long as the waits between Bernhardt's acts. Jefferies. A NEW AMERICAN PLAY ABROAD. (Special Correspondence of THE THEATRE.) SHEFFIELD, ENGLAND, March 15.-I went to the Theatre Royal here the other night to see an American play, "Hans the Boatman," written by Clay M. Green (author of Minnie Palmer's "My Sweetheart ") for Mr. Charles Arnold, the original Tony, in England, of that play. It has some good points and met with a very fair success, but it will need trimming into shape before it is tried on an American audience. I couldn't help wondering if an English play produced by American actors in America would rasp the feelings of an Englishman as this did mine in many respects? The old boatman at Shroon Lake in the Adirondacks, Yank Thursby, was rigged out like a veritable old salt, just off from a whaler, in sou-wester, pea jacket, etc., and he bellowed his part. Arnold sings nicely, and is almost as graceful with the children as Fritz Emmet used to be. The story of the play is that of a young New York girl, who falls in love with Hans, a simple-hearted and handsome boatman, an unequal marriage, and a former sweetheart who is jealous. Finally a divorce, another lover, Hans blinded by explosion, and subsequent return of Hans in Rip Van Winkle style, and final reconciliation all around. Arnold was called out after the performance and said: "I don't know how I can thank you enough for receiving this play so very warmly tonight. After saying so much, I think you can hardly expect me to say much more now. I have, at least I hope I have, heard cries for the author. (Loud applause, and cries of Yes.") He is a very modest man, and he was called away on the last steamer to America, having three more productions to look after. If he had known what a reception his play would have received to-night, I am sure he would have done everything in his power to stay behind. (Applause.) He thought he might leave it in your hands. (Applause.) I ask you whether I can cable him so that the message will reach him before he arrives in New York, that his little play is a success. (Cries of "Yes," and applause.) He is an old 'pal' of mine; we were room-mates when we were young lads. He has made several great successes in America lately, and is now writing a play for Lotta, one of our best stars in America, When he was writing this he said to me, I will do my best to fit you with a part which they will like in England. We have reversed the order of things by producing an American play, by an American author, with an American actor in England for the first time. We can claim rightly that this is a pioneer play. (Applause.) F. NOTES FROM CHICAGO, MARCH 30.- We have here a composer, Mr. S. G. Pratt, an accomplished musician, one who has written some exceptional work. His Grand Opera "Lucille," produced at the Columbia, being to the manner born, should be treated with generosity and encouragement. There are many things in it, so the critics say, worthy of high praise. The book is weak, bad in fact-and what music can withstand the incubus of bad word expression. I am not a musician. I am not competent to express an adequate opinion on technical grounds. I will not therefore attempt it, though this confession I know, entitles me to such a privilege. I join heartily in hoping for a sure success for Mr. Pratt's future efforts. The Chicago Conservatory gave a matinee performance on Thursday last at the Chicago Opera House. The pupils and students of this excellent institution show remarkable and exceptional progress. Prof. Kayzer and his able assistants can boast of establishing here a school of dramatic art, equal, if not superior, to any in the country. The school has been endorsed by many prominent professionals. Mr. Stapleton, the stage director, was at one time a member of Daly's Company. Carrington. SPECIAL NOTICE. THE Convenient size of THE THEATRE renders it an admirable record of the stage worthy of preservation on the book-shelf. There are two vol umes every year. The first volume, ending September 13, 1886, contains over 6c0 pages. Among the portraits-which in each instance are accompanied by an article-are those of Edwin Booth as Richelieu and Hamlet, Fechter as Hamlet, Dion Boucicault, Frederic Lemaitre, M. Got, Daisy Murdock, Henry Edwards, Henry Irving, Ellen Terry, Mrs. Shirley, Mrs. Gilbert, James Lewis, Whistler, James Beard, Gounod, Massenet, Ada Rehan, Modjeska, John Gilbert, Sarcey, Saint Saens, Octave Feuillet, etc.; besides innumerable illustrations of plays and cartoons. Among the contributors to this volume were Barnett Phillips, G. E. Montgomery, H. S. Hewitt, C. M. S. McLellan, Alfred Ayres, Benjamin Folsom, James Parton, George Fawcett Rowe, Charles B. Welles, Cupid Jones, Charles Millward, Henry Pène du Bois, Henry Gallup Paine, Rose Eytinge, F. S. Saltus, Melvin G. Winstock, John M. Morton, Kyrle Bellew, Evelyn Harvier, W. W. Denslow, Henry Whiting, Olive Logan, F. Bellew, Harold W. Raymond, Clara Lanza, Louis Von Eltz, George Parsons Lathrop, Thos. W. Pittman, B. F. Hapgood, Hilaire Grezy, Townsend Percy, A. C. Gunter, P G. Cusachs, Frank Fowler, Joseph Fleming, Francis Day, T. H. Howard, Charles Lotin Hildreth and Ernest Knaufft. Volume I. of THE THEATRE is handsomely bound in cloth, and will be sent anywhere, post-paid, for three dollars. Vol. II. will shortly be announced. AT a recent meeting of a committee of the Board of Directors of the Princeton College Art School, Dr. McCosh laid before the Board a list of subscriptions amounting to $42,300. The working plans for the museum also were submitted, and it was resolved to proceed with the construction of the main part of the building. A meeting of the entire Board of Directors will be held on April 8. No, she did not take her mask off, and she did not say a word while he was serving; but the waist, the outline of her figure, the bouquet of roses, all conform to the recital of Madame de Riverolles which Lucien repeated to Henri and I in all its details. All that Eugène knows is that this woman ate but little, a few oysters, a few grapes, and drank a half glass of cognac. When the unknown gentleman desired to pay the bill, it had already been paid. It was here where Eugène spoke admirably.-I said to him: "Then if this ly paid the bill, she was a lady in society." He right, 1887. And the gentleman ? STANISLAS. Eugène never saw him before, and he has a remarkable memory for faces. He is not a man of our society, he told me. Young? Young. THÉRÈSE. STANISLAS. Thirty years at most. THÉRÈSE. Blond or dark? STANISLAS. Dark, tall, with distinguished air; handsome fellow; no decorations. LE MARQUIS. It will be easier to find him then. THÉRÈSE. And then Eugène does not suspect the name of the lady? STANISLAS. He has no idea. That is why Lucien gave me this errand. He would have given himself away. He is agitated; and a man agitated is a man agitated, though he hide it as much as possible. LE MARQUIS. Did the gentleman eat much? He ate all Eugène did. He is a relation. LE MARQUIS. THÉRÈSE. And how did they part? Alone. (She leaves him to go to the Marquis.) My dear father, I wish to speak to you before Í go away, of a person whom I love as though she was my sister,-your daughter. I have taken the trouble to study her since she has been here. She is very simple, very reasonable, very reflecting, sometimes a little sad, always serious, and who does not dream of life more than she ought. We live in a very flashy society, especially since a few years; she is afraid of this society of which she has but name and birth, and yet she neither can nor ought to have it. In brief, it will not astonish you, if I tell you that from among all the men younger or older, more or less interesting, more or less frivolous, who surround us, her thoughts are for the oldest, but also the least jolly, and who would never have imagined himself capable of such distinction, and who has done nothing to provoke it. He is more than forty, and his hair is almost gray. And it is? LE MARQUIS. FRANCINE. It is M. de Symeux. LE MARQUIS. She has told you her sentiments? No; she is not a girl to tell them to anybody no matter whom, before speaking to you; she respects you too much for that; but she has spoken to me often of M. de Symeux, and a little while ago again, in such a manner that I have no doubt whatever. I will not say that she loves him, that word for so many things venal, strange and shameful, that one hardly knows if one can use it, but she certainly sees no one but him to whom she would consent to be a wife, with whom she would That is the state in which I pass all her life. return your daughter after two months of tuition. LE MARQUIS. You have decided to go? Yes, it is too cold in Paris. Lucien goes with you? THÉRÈSE. You were so afraid of finding her guilty? LE MARQUIS. Although I find her simple and calm on the surface, so much the more I believe her wounded profoundly. She is not an ordinary person. No matter what hand has caused the wound, I would not know how to approach her, no more than one of those other gentlemen. She must be approached with a woman's tenderness. (Lucien re-enters.) THÉRÈSE. I told her I desired to talk with her, and I will wait. (During the last words of Thérèse, Lucien has entered and is talking in a low voice with Stanislas, who was waiting by the fireplace.) THÉRÈSE. M. de Riverolles is here. LE MARQUIS. He has probably come back to do something stupid. (They walk away talking.) STANISLAS (to Lucien). Here, my dear, is the result of my commission. And you-where did you go during all this time? LUCIEN. I went to the skating pond, without showing myself. I watched from a distance. I wanted to see if Madame de Riverolles met with any one that I might not know. STANISLAS. She was with her sister, you can be very sure... LUCIEN. Of what is one sure? She skated with Annette, as if nothing had happened. She kept among old friends, and came back quietly. I followed them at a distance. STANISLAS. And now, how do you feel? (He takes him by the hand.) LUCIEN. How do I feel! What do you mean? Yes, I ask you what you think. Have you still a desire to choke this gentleman? Do you still wish to twist your wife's neck, who has never been so pretty, nor seemed so quiet, as to-day? Are you going to forget all, and love her most beautifully? People do so sometimes, and everything is simplified. On the contrary, do you fear dying of grief little by little, or do you think you will do it in time? Novelists and moralists wrangle over this subject. I would like to learn from some one who has played his part. LUCIEN. When you get through making fun of me. I am not making fun of you. If you cannot answer me immediately, if you desire a little retirement for meditation, we can put off your answer till later. I have plenty of time; don't tire yourself; but I shall wait. LUCIEN. You will end by making me laugh, and, God knows, I have no desire. |