THE STORY OF A FARCE.
All London is crowding to see a singu larly neat and laughable farce, which has been produced at the Globe Theatre by Mr Charles Hawtrey, the author of. "The Private Secretary." The play, which is called " The Arabian Nights," and is by Mr Sydney Grundy (writes the London correspondent of the Argua), affords a curious instance of the vicissitudes of fortune, both in the work itself and the management producing it. Mr Grundy's farce was written nine years ago, and has ever since been passing an unquiet existence, tossing about managers* rooms unread and unappreciated, no man perceiving in it aught that was actable or amusing. Now that it has been produced by a manager at his wits' end it is simply "the rage. The sooner it reaches Australia the better. Mr Charles Hawtrey belongs to the family of Hawtreys which have given so many canons and masters to Eton. His father is the proprietor of a school for very youthful aristocrats, called Little Eton. The son was not a promising boy, and was a few years ago little likely ever to be able to earn his living. To amuse his idleness, he tried his hand at adapting a German farce, but no manager would accept it. Finding it accidentally one day lying about bis father read it, and putting it down said, " Charlie, 111 give you £200 to produce this farce with." Armed with his father's cheque, he found no difficulty about a theatre and a company. The plavwas none other than "The Private Secretary;" and from first to last he made about £120,000 by it—marrying, during its run, a beautiful young lady with £1500 a year fortune. This great theatrical success was followed by very "lean years," indeed. "Frost" followed '•Frost* at the "Globe." The Hawtreys had besides, a pretty fancy in racing and rouge ci noir., and when the "Arabian Nights" was put in the bills, things were looking very blue indeed. But now all is changed. Another fortune is piling itself np night after night with astonishing rapidity. Such are the " fissitudes" of theatrical management in England. To parallel them, one would have to cite the experiences of a land speculator in a woolproducing continent, subject to years of drought. There is nothing, like it at this side of the equator.
THE STORY OF A FARCE.
Press, Volume XLV, Issue 6964, 18 January 1888, Page 5
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