'For One Night Only.'

Evening Star, Issue 7646, 23 June 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

'For One Night Only.'

The ‘Argus’ (Melbourne) is publishing ‘ Reminiscences of J. L. Toole, the Comedian ; ’ related by himself, and chronicled by Joseph Hatton, It is generally known that Mr Toole is naturally of a jovial disposition, and delights to turn any chance occurrence to account to provide amusement for himself and others. Here is an instance from the first instalment of the ‘ Reminiscences ’:— “ Toole for one night only !” I have said that 1 was destined to remain in that pleasant little town until the next day. It seemed to me when I went forth into the streets as if all the county were there. The hotel had become suddenly crowded with guests. Carriages were setting down ladies and gentlemen at the Assembly Rooms in a continuous stream. I wandered round to the back of the hall in search of the stage door. I could discover no entrance of the kind, and, returning to the front, found the hero of the evening himself trying to pass the magic portals of the extemporised theatre. The programme commenced with a short piece in which the star did not appear. I understood the situation at once. Toole had come quietly down to take bis place in the entertainment at eight o’clock, and had just made the uncomfortable discovery that there was no way to the stage except through the front of the house. Standing aside within the shadow of the porchway or awning I witnessed a little original comedy in which Air Toole was engaged for his own especial edification, and which enabled me to open that pen-and-ink sketch with an anecdote—the very best way to begin anything, I believe, if the story is only worth telling. “ Do you say you can’t let me in ?” Toole was repeating as I arrived upon the scene. “ Not without a yellow ticket,” replied a hot and excited policeman—one of those big burly countrymen who know their duty and stand by it, Toole glues his eye-glass into his right eye, and contemplates the bustle with evident satisfaction. “ Yellow tickets this way !” is the policeman’s constant cry. The yellows are the higli and mighty county folk ; they belong to the reserved seats. Toole, turning his collar up, now presents himself to the janitor of the yellow seats in another character, and endeavors to push his way in. “ Yellow tickets this way !” says the policeman, looking in an opposite direction, but firmly obstructing Toole. “I must go in,” says Toole, “I can’t come to-morrow night.” “ To-morrow night! ” exclaims the policeman with disdain, “ it wouldn’t be no good if you could.” “ How’s that ?” asks Toole. “ Why, he won’t bo here to morrow night." “ Who won't ?” “Why, this ’ere Toole—yellow tickets this way ! ” “ Not be here to-morrow night! " says Toole ; “ then I must go in, and that’s all about it! ” “ Now, it ain’t uo good a-shovin’, mister ! You can't go in here without a yellow ticket; why don’t you try t’other door?” Then in a louder key, “Yellow tickets this way ! ” Toole looks at his watch, chuckles quietly to himself, waits until the last of a family party has been ushered within the hall, and then returns to the attack. “I say, look here,” he says, making a serious effort to be confidential with the officer, “I don’t mind telling you, but this ’ere Toole can’t act unless I am there.” “Oh, now you mister, please don’t go on a-botherin’ me.” “ But I must go on a-botherin’ you,” Toole replies. “ I curls his hair. He can’t go on the stage without I curls his hair. I’m his barber,” “His barber? Curls his hair!” exclaims the janitor. “ How be I to know you curls his hair ? ” “If you’ll let me outside I’ll show you the scissors,” “ Come outside ? How be Ito come outside ? ” “ You don’t want a yellow ticket to come outside, do you ? ” says Toole, a surprised and very innocent look of wonder upon his face. “Now look here, mister, you must stand aside. Yellow tickets this way.” “ Can I stand aside without a yellow ticket?” asks Toole, now looking at his watch with just a shade of anxiety in his face, the policeman more flustered than ever as he recognises in what seems to be the very last coiners a member of the county bench, with his haughty wife and buxom daughters: “Yellow tickets this way; thankee sir. This way, my lady ; thankee, my lady.” “I can stand aside without a yellow ticket,” says Toole, when the last exciting incident is at an end, “ and you don’t want a yellow ticket to come outside, and you want a yellow ticket to go inside. Really, it is the most extraordinary thing. It does make me so wild ! ” The simple-minded officer looks at his questioner in a puzzled manner, inclined for a moment to get angry, but seeks relief in his war-cry of “ Yellow tickets this way !” at the moment that a burst of applause comes swelling through the half-open doorway, and Toole is rescued by a tall militarylooking gentleman in faultless evening dress, and wearing a moustache and imperial that are dark compared with his white hair. This is Mr George Loveday, his agent and friend, whose merry eye takes in the situation at once, and appreciates the fun of it. Mr Loveday at once provides his chief with a yellow ticket.