When I am going for a long railway journey I always buy a number of
papers associated with walks of life as far as possible removed from
my own. Then the time passes easily. The ordinary papers one reads
too quickly; the exorbitant require attention--they open the door to
new worlds. I do not mean to suggest that one could go so far as to
find entertainment in the Financial Supplement to the “Times”--that
is too much; but the organs of dog-fancying, yachting, cricket,
prize-fighting, the police, estate agents, licensed victuallers--these
are sufficiently unusual and concentrated to be entertaining if
they are really studied. Their exclusiveness, their importance,
I particularly like: the suggestion they throw out that in this
world all is vanity save their own affairs (as indeed it is). Such
self-centredness is very exhilarating.
But the best fun of all is to be found in the stage and variety-hall
papers. Not only are they the most amusing, but also the most human,
for the sock and buskin have a way of forcing the heart to the
sleeve. Limelight does more than all the sun of the tropics to bring
emotion to the surface without shame; and it thus comes about that
the periodicals of the players are full of refreshment to the cabined
and reserved. Reading one of them the other day, I found in the
advertisement columns (which should never be neglected) the following
rich feast of opportunity, on which I have been ruminating ever since:--
“THE ANGEL OF HIS DREAMS.”
Wanted, to rehearse April 19th, Summer Tour, Autumn if suitable,
Dashing Leading Lady; must have power, pathos, intensity, and
be capable of strong character work. Emotional Juvenile Lady,
with pathos and intensity (look 17 in first Act; state if sing).
Handsome wardrobe essential in both cases. Clever Emotional
Child Actress, over 14, look 9; own speciality. Tall, Robust,
Aristocratic Heavy Man; Aris. Old Man (Small Double and S.M.).
Young Char. Juv. Man (Small Double); Bright Low Comedian (short).
References, lowest summer terms, and photos essential.
--There is an advertisement if you like! Did you ever hear of so many
strange wants? I certainly never did; nor ever did I hear of so many
vacancies that I could not myself do anything towards filling. For,
as a rule, one feels one could make some kind of a show in most
capacities--one could maintain for a little while the illusion of
being a gentleman’s butler, or even a gardener, a sleeping partner,
an addresser of envelopes, a smart traveller, an election agent, a
sub-editor, or any of the things that are so frequently advertised for,
supposing one to have applied for the post and have been engaged. But
how begin to be a “Young Char. Juv. Man (Small Double)”? That leaves me
utterly at sea. And “S.M.,” what is that?
It was while pondering upon these matters that I realized what an
excellent thing it would be for many of us whose imagination is weak,
and whose sympathetic understanding is therefore apt to break down, if
we could now and then completely change our beat. Many a hidebound,
intolerant, self-satisfied Puritan do I know who, forced into such a
touring company as this, compelled by sheer adversity to assume the
habit of a “Small Double and S.M.,” or a “Bright Low Comedian,” would
come out of the ordeal far sweeter and fitter to play his part in
the human drama, however he may have disappointed the promoters of
“The Angel of His Dreams.” We remain--it is largely the fault of the
shortness of life and the need of pence--too much in our own grooves.
We are too ignorant of what we can really do.
That advertisement came from an organ of the legitimate Stage.
Obviously. In a less classic and more intimate music-hall paper, which
I bought at the same time, I found the charming announcement of the
birth of a son to a North of England Valentine Vox. After stating the
event--“The wife of ‘Baddow’ (ventriloquist) of a son”--it went on
thus:--“Both doing well. Baddow takes this opportunity of thanking the
managers and agents who so kindly transferred, altered, and rearranged
dates, so that I played places near and was able to stay in Liverpool
for this event.” There is something very engaging in the _naïveté_,
pride and pleasure of that statement. It contains so much of the
warm-heartedness of the variety-stage, where money and sympathy equally
come easily and go easily. Baddow’s suppression of his Christian
name, or even initial, I like: his satisfaction in having reached a
position where both are negligible, together with the suspicion that
he is aware that the advertisement would be of less value if the star
style were tampered with. I like also his complacency as a parent of
some importance. And then there is in it too the new evidence of the
kindliness of those in power, all working together to keep the properly
anxious ventriloquist near at home; and finally the really adorable
transition, indicating real emotion, from the somewhat stilted if
imposing third person to the familiar first.
The good, affectionate Baddow! I hope mother and son are still doing
well, and that the son will grow up to be a comfort to his parents, and
as a ventriloquist not unworthy of his father (though never surpassing
him), and a delight to audiences.