STAGE-STRUCK,

Evening Post, Volume LXIV, Issue 47, 23 August 1902, Page 3 (Supplement)

STAGE-STRUCK,

Life is full of surprises, even to the most mature omd sceptical of us {writes Mrs. Kemlal in the Daily News). To a busy nctreßs one rich nourco of surprise is tlie increasing number of stage-struck people who clamour for a- hearing ; another the amazing unfitness nnd still more amazing self-confidence of a large proportion of them. Il is my lot to interview many wouW-be actors nnd actresses — sometimes out of curiosity, sometimes out of compnspion for their wearisome persistence, often with real hope that I mny discover a new Talma or Rachel — and to receive letters by the score about their "burning zeal" or "burning desire" — it is always a "burning" something — to go upon the stage. . On the whole, it is easy to be kind, but hard sometimes to be serious.

Here are extracts from two letters I actually possess: — (1) "I nm considered good-looking by many who ought to know, tall, splendid figure, perfect enunciation, could play young lover, would not object to good character role, though prefer leading part." (2) "My friends tell me thnt my face is made for tho stage. That, of course, is an exaggeration, but I venture to think you wiU be struck by my general appearance." I was struck — dumb. In my household, people who come to recite in order to test their dramatic capabilities are fumiliarly known as "To-be-Henrds." The average girl To-be-Hoard, even if she has a roof lo her mouth — not so common a blessing, apparently, as one would imagine — thinks nothing of a slight imfiediment in her speech, a stammer or isp ; it does not strike her ns a drawback when her voice proceeds from the ono spot nature never .intended it should proceed from ; she will be either short and stubby, with leanings towards domestic drama, or tall ana thin and ambitious to play ingenue parts. Her recitation, if not a lugubrious nccount of a shipwreck, is almost certain to be Queen Catherine's Appeal to Wolsey. A reasonably cheerful recitation I have long given up hoping for ; in fact, nine out of ten To-be-Heards openly doubt one's nbility to detect their talent ("their real talent, you know!") unless they hnve full scope for startled looks, rapid breathing, and the usual cries and moans.

Mothers and fathers often write. They describe a benutiful girl or a handsome boy, "who displays such extraordinary powers of drnmulic expression thnt they feel more than justified in 'Venturing to address me." Both boy and girl are probably bright and intelligent, nothing mor,e.

It is when mothers accompany their cliildren that I really tremble. They — the mothers — wear such a look of expectancy, such a "your-opinion-a-forogone-conclusion" nir! I know at once that, short of ruslung up to their child and, overcome with emotion, murmuring between my sobs of delight, "At last! at last! what I have waited for, a genius I" I must sink hopelessly, irretrievably in their estimation, not merely as an actress, but as n human being. They ba\e rehearsed the scene so often to themselves, poor dears! In some cases, I am sure, they have even written on imaginary notice: — "Mrs. So-nnd-So's thief, perhaps only, title to celebrity lies iv the fact that sho was among tii« first to perceive and acclaim the extraordinary genius of the now world-renowned Miss Topsy Jones, etc., etc.," Not long ago a gentla little American liidy came to mo with o. perplexed countenance. She had suddenly lost all her money, nnd which did I think wonld be th© more lucrative, to "raise" chickens •or to go upon the stage? Sho recited, and it was with daliglit I felt able to urge her to combine chicken-raising with a professional career. She was undoubtedly clover, and I often wonder whirh of her employments she found most profltnble.

It is flattering, of course, to find one's profession fo eagerly sought nfter, but tho following conversation I had the other day with tlio mint of a wilful niece has left me -wondering: — Aunt — Do you think Snrnh could go on the stage?

M.-—My dear, Sarnh has never shown the slightest aptitude nor evinced the least desire. She hns a strong Germnn accent, and is so short-sighted ns lo be practicnUy blind! Aunt— But sho must earn a living somehow ! She can't tench ; she knows nothing to teach. She hales music, so she can't evou give music lessens. Sho can't be ai companion, because the only sort of person who could put up with her hs companion would never require a companion. So she must go on the stage- !