Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 May 1884 — Players’ Pranks. [ARTICLE]

Players’ Pranks.

“Stage fright," said a veteran actor, “often causes some funny effects. Edwin Forrest’s tremendous voice and fierce manner used to alarm the utility people and supers, and manv are the stories told of him. One of the best is of a super who had to do a little bit of business and couldn’t manage it to the star’s satisfaction. Forrest did it for him once or twice in the desired way, and then growled out, ‘Why can’t you do it as I do?’ ‘Because,’answered the super, ‘if I could I should be getting your salary instead of twenty-five cents anight!’ Forrest was once about to play Metamora, and at a particular point desired to turn and find a utility man standing close beside him. The cue for the utility man was to be ‘the tomahawk of tne red man is buried at the white man’s hearthstone.’ Several times the cue was given, b it the poor man never got there in time. He gave assurance, however, that it would be all right at night. The moment arrived, and Forrest thundered the speech with all his might. Then he turned, but the man was missing. When For-

rest was in the dressing-room after the act the face of the culprit appeared through an opening just wide enough to admit it. ‘I am very sorry, Mr. Forrest, but I really didn’t hear you give the cue.’ Any other excuse would have drawn from Forrest a torrent of abuse, but this astounded him. Taking out a five-dollar bill he gave it to the man, with the words,-‘Didn’t hear me? Well, go and see an ear doctor in the morning.’ “When eating has to be done on the stage there is a great temptation to play tricks with the food. During the run of ‘Henry .V.’ at Booth's. Bishop, as Pistol, hid to eat a leek every night. It was made from an apple. But once Thorne, who wa3 Fluellen, gave him a real onion, and he had to struggle with it though the tears coursed down his fat cheeks. When Sellers has the dish of turnips brought in there are always two peeled apples on the dish. Raymond can’t bear a turnip. It is poison to him. An actor removed the apples one night and Raymond had to struggle with the real thing. You can bet there was war after the curtain fell. Matt Snyder, now stage manager for Robson & Crane, is an inveterate practical joker. He was sitting one clay at a matinee performance of ‘Uncle Tom.’ Fosberg, who is exceedingly ' tall; was playing George Harris. When he came to the speech in which;he declares that at the worst he can earn six feet of free soil, Snyder arose and said very politely, ‘Excuse i me, Mr. Fosberg, seven.'* ‘Thank yon, Mr. Snyder, seven,’ returned Fosberg, and went on gravely with his lines. “The boys got even w.th Snyder last seasbti when he was playing in ‘4b’ with RknknA Snyder acted the bibulous general who has to take three or four drinks of whisky during the last act. Cold tea was the substitute all along, but at the end of the season the boys got some awful Jersey lightning and handed three stiff drinks to him. Snyder smelt them, but had to drink. The cruelest part of the joke was that, after drinking the whisky, water is offered him, and he has to refuse it with disgust. That night he would have given $5 to cool his throat, but Rankin was

watching him, and he had to do the regular business. When people get up and go out during a scene it is, of course, very annoying. A variety man said to a party of young men who' were moving rathe? noisily from their seats recently: ‘Pfay, don’t get up; 111 have the drinks sent to you.’ They didn’t go. Pistols that have been forgotten, or that have refused to go off. have caused innumerable trouble to actors. This year, in Chicago, Boucicault forgot the pistol which he has to fire from behind the barrel ii} the last act of tire ‘Shaughraun.’ Arte O’Neal and Korry Kinchilla engaged in their desperate struggle, but no pistol came to the relief of the virtuous maiden in distress. Those spectators nearest the front heard this whispered dialogue*: “ ‘Where’s the pistol ?’ “ ‘l’ve forgot it.’ “ ‘What shall we do?’ “ ‘Hit him, and he must fall.’ “Arte raised her pretty little hand and knocked out the villain with one blow. But the actor who had to come or and feel the wounded man was not prepared for the change, and his refer ence to the supposed bullet brought down the house." —New York Sun.