[Speech of William P. Hall (popularly known by his pen name, "Biff"
Hall) at the fortieth dinner of the Sunset Club, Chicago, Ill.,
January 7, 1892. The Secretary, Joseph B. Mann, acted as Chairman. The
general subject of the evening's discussion was, "The Modern Stage;
its Mission and Influence."]
GENTLEMEN.:--I must confess that I have never regarded the
drama in a very serious light. As to its purpose and mission, if I was
trying to find out, I should consult the pleasant-faced young man who
sits in the box-office. He knows how these things stand with the public.
Perhaps the reason I do so regard the matter may be found in my early
experiences. The first theatrical performance I ever saw was in this
city twenty-five years ago, and one of the prominent features was our
old friend, Billy Rice.[6] Billy Rice never gives rise to a serious
thought on any occasion. Why, the other night I went to hear Billy Rice,
and I heard him tell that same old story that he told in the same old
way twenty-five years ago. It really gave me the idea that the drama is
not progressive. [Laughter.]
I consider that the theatre and the newspaper are brother and sister;
they are always together. Wherever two or three are gathered together in
the wilderness some venturesome individual starts a newspaper, and then
immediately through its columns induces some other equally venturesome
individual to build an opera-house. The people who act there are called
turkey actors, for the reason that they hibernate during most of the
year and only appear when the turkey is ripe for plucking in holiday
time. They then go out and depredate the country. They have a wonderful
repertoire, from Howard's "Shenandoah" to Hood's "Sarsaparilla." They
play everywhere; it is called the kerosene circuit. If there is nothing
else available they let the water out of the water-tank at the station
and play in that. [Laughter.] Gentlemen, these are the pioneers of the
drama. They convey to the rural mind what knowledge it has of real
fire-engines and the triumphs of the scenic artist, and I think we
should give to them the credit of spreading through this land those
beautiful dramas, "Jim the Westerner," and "The Scout of the Rockies." I
do not know what their influence may be; I don't care to touch upon that
part of the subject; but I think I cannot better illustrate the straits
they are in sometimes than by reciting a little parody on W. S.
Gilbert's Bab Ballad, the "Yarn of the Nancy Bell." It is entitled:--