It é& very pleasant, indeed, to come in personal tact "With those who have entertained you for an evening, be it with comedy or with' tragedy, and to see just what they look like with the paint washed of. Of course, this last refers only to the gentlemen of the company. The ladies, having removed one variety!
paint, immediately substitute this with another as is the mode with all daughters of Eve, be they thespians oF not.
Moreover, one learns by the process. One learns how great an insight into human nature the! Philozopher of Gad's Hill betrays in his description of the experiences, of Nicholas Nickleby whilst with Mr. Vincent Crummles's strolling players 'Again, one learns how sweet it to see' brethren dwelling together in harmony, and how evan: ent that The simple gesture of the leading lady, assumed by the audience to be on€ of affection, turns oat to bea hasty snatch the! 1, windpipe of the leading ma the juvenile, which only the quick eye of the intended victim enabled him to evade.
In return, he was really] trying to sever the lady's jugular vein with his teeth, all the whi the audience thought he was bestowing, a tender kiss on her lovely throat. For such is the love between actors and actresses, my children.
The enter pri 1g publicity man. lager conducts us behind the scenes the moment the final curtain falls.
We are naturally thrilled by the lea of of inspecting the histrionic 1200 at close quarters. We are to see the lion and the lioness first, and the lioness, who is the leading fore the lion, who is only the man. How misleading that term, "leading," is!
She is a lioness only in respect of her roar, which identifies her as of the genus Leo, species, "I love me." Of course, she excusing ourself, we hasten back. It seems the lady' will be unable to sleep that night until she has learned. our opinion of her in that scene where she stands with arms outstretched, protesting her innocence to high heaven. Of course, we inform her that Sarah Bernhardt, Elenore Duse, Ellen Terry, and the whole bunch of back numbers couldn't do it half so well. What we tempted to tell her was this.—
Many years ago, a troupe of Shakespearean actors were stranded in the Southern States, and while waiting for some angel to come to the rescue, conceived the. idea of teaching some negroes to do "Othello." Everything went swimmingly. The house was packed with, friends. The gallery, particularly, overflowed with those of Othello, fine looking darky. The audience were breathless during the "hand-Kkerchiet" scene, which went a follows:
"Desdemona, whar am dat handkerchief I, done lend you day fo? yesterday?" (No answer).
"Desdemona, I demands dat hand-are, Wha ame it ath" (Agate no answer).
'Desdemona, fo' de third an' 1 time, T axes yo, fo" dat handkerchief'
specified by Cunnel Shake peace, T done needs dat handker-
(Still no answer). "AIL right, chile, I proceeds to wring yo" neck, supposen yo" don't give me dat handkerchief!"
At this juncture, an aged Mammy. in the gallery could restrain herself no longer, She had been rocking to and fro with excitement, and now, cupping her hands, she shouted at ake, niggah, wipe Wye an' let de show. go out"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.