Frank Merriwell's New Comedian Part 32

"Somebody go for a doctor at once!"

He knelt beside the man, and the old actor murmured:

"It is useless to go for a doctor. I heard you tell them, but it is--no use. I told you--my heart--was broken. I spoke the--truth. It broke my heart when I--had to--burlesque----"

His words died out in his throat.

"He's going!" somebody whispered, for the company was gathered around.

There was a brief silence, and then the old man seemed to draw himself up with pride, as they had seen him do in life.

"Yes, sir," he said, distinctly, "my name is Burns--William Shakespeare Burns--tragedian--at liberty."

The old eyes closed, a faint sigh escaped his bloodless lips, and the old actor was "at liberty."

CHAPTER XV.

A NEWSPAPER NOTICE.

"Yesterday afternoon, through the courtesy of Manager Frank Merriwell, an invited audience of at least five hundred persons witnessed the first performance of Mr. Merriwell's revised and rewritten play at the Orpheum Theater, and the verdict of that audience, which represented the highest and most cultured element of Denver society, was that the sprightly, sensational, four-act comedy drama was a success in every way. The play, which is now named 'True Blue,' was originally christened 'For Old Eli,'

and, after a single performance, Mr. Merriwell withdrew it for the purpose of rewriting it, correcting certain faults he had discovered, and strengthening one or two weak points. As he wrote the piece, he was able to do this work of reconstruction quickly and thoroughly, and the result is a play of which he, as author, manager and star performer, may well be proud. The following is the cast:

d.i.c.k TRUEHEART FRANK MERRIWELL Barry Hattleman Douglas Dunton Spruce Downing Rufus Small Crack Hyerman Bartley Hodge Reuben Gra.s.s Ephraim Gallup Manny Sizzwell William Wynne Prof. Gash Roscoe Havener Edwin Treadwell William Shakespeare Burns Carius Dubad Granville Garland Spike Dubad Lester Vance Millie Blossom Miss Ca.s.sie Lee Inez Dalton Miss Stella Stanley Nancy Noodle Miss Agnes Kirk

"College life is the princ.i.p.al theme of 'True Blue,' and Mr. Merriwell, having studied at Yale, is quite capable of catching the air and spirit of Old Eli, and reproducing it on the stage. This he has done with a deftness and fidelity that makes the play remarkable in its cla.s.s, or, possibly with greater accuracy, lifts it out of its cla.s.s, for, up to the production of this piece, all college plays have been feeble attempts to catch the spirit of the life they represent, or have descended into the realm of farce or burlesque.

"While the author of 'True Blue' has written a play to suit the popular fancy, he has not considered it necessary to write down to the general public, and, for all of the college slang, which of a necessity is used by several of the characters, there is nothing offensive in the entire piece--nothing to shock the sensibilties of the most refined. The comedy in places is a trifle boisterous, but that was to be expected, and it does not descend to mere buffoonery. It is the kind of comedy at which the spectator must laugh, even though he may resolve that he will not, and, when it is all over, he feels better for his laughter, instead of feeling foolish, as he does in many cases after witnessing other 'popular plays.'

"The pathos strikes the right chord, and the strongest situations and climaxes are stirring enough to thrill the most sluggish blood. In some respects the story of the play is rather conventional, but it is handled in a manner that makes it seem almost new. Through the four acts _d.i.c.k Trueheart_, the hero, is pursued by his enemies, _Carius Dubad_, and his, worthy son, _Spike_, and on various occasions they succeed in making things extremely unpleasant for the popular young athlete.

"Through two acts the villains pursue the hero, keeping the audience on the _qui vive_.

"The climax of the third act was the great sensational feature of the play. In this act _d.i.c.k_ escapes from his enemies and all sorts of crafty snares, and is barely in time to take his place in the Yale boat, which is to race against Harvard and Cornell. _Carius Dubad_ has appeared on the scene, and, at the last moment, in order to break _d.i.c.k's_ spirit, he reveals that _d.i.c.k's_ guardian has squandered his fortune, so that the hero is penniless and will be forced to leave college. For all of this revelation, _Trueheart_ enters the boat and aids in winning the race against Harvard and Cornell, greatly to the discomfiture of the villainous father and son, who have bet heavily against Yale. Of course, Mr. Merriwell made Yale win in his play. The mechanism that showed the boat race on the distant river, the moving observation train, the swaying crowds with waving flags, hats, and handkerchiefs, was truly a most wonderful arrangement, and it filled the spectators with admiration and astonishment. A quick 'dark shift'

followed, and then the boats actually appeared, with Yale the winner, and _Trueheart_ was brought onto the stage in the arms of his admiring fellow collegians, while the curtain descended amid a burst of genuine enthusiastic applause such as is seldom heard in any theater. Mr.

Merriwell was called before the curtain, and he made a brief speech, which seemed modest and characteristic of this young actor and playwright, who is certain to follow a brilliant career on the American stage.

"In the final act the hero was in straitened circ.u.mstances, but all ends well, with the discomfiture of old _Dubad_ and his worthy son, and the final settlement of all jealousies between the other characters.

"Not only as author of the play, but as the star does Frank Merriwell merit a full meed of credit and praise. Although he is young and impulsive, and his acting might not meet the approval of certain critics, there was a breeziness and freshness about him that captivated and carried the audience. It is said that he has never attended a school of acting, and this may readily be believed, for there is nothing affected, nothing stiff, nothing stilted and mechanical about his work on the stage. In his case, at least, it has been greatly to his advantage not to attend a dramatic school. He is a born actor, and he must work out his own methods without being hampered by convention and instruction from those who believe in doing everything by rule. He is a handsome young man, and his stage presence is both striking and effective. Worthy of note was it that he enunciated every word distinctly and p.r.o.nounced it correctly, in great contrast to many other stars, who sometimes mangle speech in a most distressing manner. He has a voice that seems in perfect keeping with his splendid figure, being clear as a mellow bell, full of force, and delightful to hear.

"The work of Douglas Dunton as _Barry Hattleman_ was good. Mr. Small, who is a very large man, faithfully portrayed _Spruce Downing_, the lazy student. _Crack Hyerman_, the hot-blooded Southerner, as represented by Bartley Hodge, who made the Southerner a thorough fire-eater, who would fight for his 'honor' at the drop of the hat. As _Reuben Gra.s.s_, Ephraim Gallup literally convulsed the audience. Without doubt his delineation of the Down-East Yankee was the best ever seen in Denver.

"Miss Ca.s.sie Lee played the sweet and winsome _Millie Blossom_, and her singing and dancing met approval. The _Inez Dalton_ of Miss Stanley was handled with great skill, and she was jealous, pa.s.sionate, resentful, and loving in turn, and in a manner that seemed true to life. As _Nancy Noodle_, an old maid in love with _Prof. Gash_, Miss Agnes Kirk was acceptable.

"And now comes the duty of mentioning a man who was the surprise of the evening. His name was given on the program as William Shakespeare Burns, and, as he represented a burlesque tragedian, it was supposed that the name was a.s.sumed. It has been learned, however, that this is the name by which he was known in real life. Mr. Burns first appeared in the second act, and as _Edwin Treadwell_, the frayed, back-number tragedian, he literally caused many of the audience to choke in the effort to repress their uncontrollable laughter. At the close of the third act, a local theatrical man declared that W. S. Burns far excelled as a comedian anybody he had ever seen essay a similar part. But the sensation came in the fourth act, when the actor started to parody _Hamlet's_ soliloquy, but seemed to forget himself and the parody together, and swung into the original William Shakespeare. The laughter died out, the audience sat spellbound, scarcely breathing. The eyes of every person were fixed on the actor, who went through the soliloquy to the end, giving it with all the power of a Forrest or a Booth. As the actor retired, the audience awoke, realized it had seen and heard a man who was no clown, but a real tragedian, and the applause was long and loud.

"William Shakespeare Burns did not appear again on the stage of that theater; he will not appear again on any stage. He is dead! But few particulars have been learned about him, but it seems that this was his first attempt to play comedy--and his last. He regarded himself as the equal of any interpreter of Shakespeare, living or dead, but misfortune and his own weakness had never permitted him to rise to the heights to which he aspired. Grim necessity had compelled him to accept Mr.

Merriwell's offer to play in 'True Blue' the part of the burlesque tragedian. His heart and soul had rebelled against doing so, and often at rehearsals he had wept with mortification after going through with his part. His body was weakened by privation. He declared last night that his heart was broken. A few minutes after leaving the stage the last time he expired in one of the dressing rooms of the theater. Thus ended a life that might have been a grand success but for the failings of weak human nature.

"Mr. Merriwell will go on the road at once with 'True Blue.' He has engaged a competent man to fill the place made vacant by the death of Mr. Burns. His route for some little time is booked, and he leaves Denver to-day for Puelbo, where he opens to-morrow. The play, the star, and the company merit success, and we hope Mr. Merriwell will find it convenient to play a regular engagement in this city before long. It is certain, if he does, he will be greeted by packed houses."--_Denver Herald and Advertiser._

All the Denver papers contained notices of the performance, but the one quoted was the longest and the most elaborate. Not one of the notices was unfavorable. They were enough to make the heart of any manager glad, and it was not strange that Frank felt well satisfied.

But he was inexpressibly saddened by the sudden and tragic death of William Burns, for he had recognized the genius in the old actor, who had been dragged down from a highroad to prosperity and fame by the hands of the relentless demon that has destroyed so many men of genius, drink.

On account of his bookings, Frank could not remain in Denver to attend the funeral of the veteran tragedian, but he resolved that Burns should be buried with all honors, and he made arrangements for a suitable funeral.

Of course, the papers announced the funeral, and, the story of Burns'

remarkable death having become familiar to all, the church was packed to the doors. The man whose wretched life had promised a wretched death and a nameless grave was buried without pomp, but with such honors as might have been given to one well known and highly esteemed.

Above his grave a modest marble was placed, and chiseled on it was a single line from the "Immortal Bard," whom he loved and understood and interpreted with the faithfulness and fire of genius:

"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well."

And every expense Frank Merriwell provided for. Nothing was neglected; everything was done that good taste and a good heart demanded.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE VEILED WOMAN.

As may be understood, the members of Frank's company were individually and collectively delighted with the apparent success of the play and their efforts. Perhaps Agnes Kirk was the only one who complained. She was not at all pleased by the notices she obtained.

Frank immediately secured a supply of Denver papers and, marking the notices, mailed them to the managers of theaters and the editors of papers along the route "True Blue" was to follow.

Then he had typewritten copies made of extracts from these notices, which he added to his collection of press notices already manufactured for advertising purposes, and sent them on to his advance agent, who had been out on the road several days.

Frank knew how to work every point to the best advantage, and he did not lose anything. He was tireless in his efforts, and it was wonderful what an immense amount of work he accomplished. No one knows how much he can do till he makes the test.

Hodge aided him as far as possible, and Frank found Bart a valuable a.s.sistant. Hodge was fully as eager as Merriwell for the play to be a great success.

Frank had opened with the piece under its original name in Puelbo, and it had met disaster there. He vowed that he would return to that place with the play and make a success of his engagement. He engaged the leading theater in the city for three nights, being obliged to pay in advance for it, as the manager had no confidence in the revised play.

Frank had been working the papers of the city. One of them was edited by a remarkably genial gentleman by the name of Osgood, and this editor had seen in the original play material for a strong piece. He admired Merry's pluck in opening the second time in that city, and he literally opened the columns of his paper to Frank, who telegraphed down extracts from the Denver papers as soon as the notices appeared.

The house in Puelbo was to be well "papered" the first night, but was to depend entirely on the drawing qualities of the play for the audience on the following two nights.

Frank was making a great hustle to get away from Denver, and he was returning from the theater to his hotel, after seeing the last of the special scenery moved to the railroad station, when a heavily veiled woman stopped directly in his path. As he was walking hastily, he nearly ran against her.

"I beg your pardon, madam!" exclaimed Frank, lifting his hat. "Very awkward of me."