PLAYING TO ONE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2274, 16 July 1881, Page 4

PLAYING TO ONE.

[From the “Era.”j

Mr Emmett, being interviewed, was asked to how large an audience he had ever performed. ‘ Well, I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘ There were nearly 1500 peraons in the Grand Opeia House last evening. Of course, as it was a fir.t night, some of it was paper. But my share of the receipts was more than 800 dollars—that is sixty per cent, of the gross receipts at the box office. 1 think I played to over 2000 people in London once. The smallest audience X ever had was in Columbus, Ohio. The manager had been trying to introduce matinees, but with not much success. Joe Jefferson, Denman Thompson, and some of the big stars had gone through the mill, and the audiences had been so small that they had shied, and refused to take the gate. The money had been returned at the box office, and the disappointed ticket buyers had departed, determined never again to patronise a matinee in Columbus. The afternoon business was at its lowest ebb when I struck the town. After two or three performances the posters announced a matinee, I went to the theatre at two o'clock that afternoon and found my company skylarking behind the curtain, in their every-day suits. I looked out in the auditorium. There was just one man in the theatre. He sat clear Pack in the parquet. It was as muoh as I could do to oatline him in the darkness. 1 went out to the box office, ‘ Did that man pay for his ticket?’ I asked. ‘ Yes, 50 cents,’ tne treasurer replied. * The manager told me to return him his money and close the theatre.’ ‘No, ycu won’t,’ I said, ‘I have never disappointed an audience when I’m sober, and I don’t propose to do eo now We’ll play for him ’ I went Into the parquet, introduced myself to the man, and thanked him for his attendance, I told him that, as he had thought enough of me to come and see me and pay fifty cents for the privilege, he should have as good a performance as though the house was paoked. I then went behind the curtain and requested the company to dress. * Great Caesar, Joe,’ said one of them, * you ain’t a-golng to play to that one man, are you ?’ 4 Yes, I am,’ I replied. 4 He s paid his money, and he shall have his money’s worth,’ ‘ Oh, the devil,’ broke in another member of the company. ‘ I’ll pay his fifty cents and you let him go.’ I told them that the performance must go on as usual, and I warned each one that any attempt to guy the audience or any failure to play a part in full would be the signal for a discharge. ‘Well, the orchestra played an overtnra and the curtain arose, ’ Fritz continued, ‘ I walked down to the footlights. I invited the audience to come forward and take a front seat, where he could see and bs seen. He thanked me and settled In the front row. I suggested that a little generous applause thrown in where he thought the actors deserved it would serve to Inspirit them and warm thorn to thoir work. Ho seemed to appreciate the situation and agreed to give us all the encouragement that he thought we deserved. The performance began. I don’t think I ever played better. I threw myself heart and sonl into the character, and .sang the ‘Lullaby’ so tenderly that the entire audience was in tears. He called for aa encore. I told him that wo rarely gave au encore, but aa this was an extraordinary occasion he should have one. He applauded liberally at times where no applause was deserved, and again failed to applaud where applause was deserved. At such times I called his attention to the omission, and arkod whether on reflection he did not really think that he had made a mistake. A hint was sufficient He would clap his hands as though perfectly enchanted ond shout ‘Bravo I’ like an Italian over tfalvinl. The company paid no attention to him, but went on with the performance as regular as clock work. Between the acta, however, one or two of them evinced a disposition to go out into the auditorium and mingle with the audience, I set my face against it and they refrained. Atthec’ose of the second act the manager entered the theatre. He had been out for a walk. He seemed dumbfounded at seeing the house brilliantly lighted, and the orchestra playing soberly to one man. But ho was more astonished when the certain arose and the performance. was resumed with as much unoon cern as though there were a thousand dollars in the house. But ho had an eye to business. Ho sent word to the newspaper reporters, and half a dozen of them arrived in time for the last act. No actor ever received bettor criticism. Some of them were over a column long It turned out that the audience was the owner of a coppermino in Michigan, and very wealthy. On the following night he gave the whole company a banquet at the leading hotel. He entertained na ss handtomely aa we had entertained him, and wo parted with mutual regrets. Jus - another year afterwards I announced another matinee at Columbus. It was well advertised, and the house was packed to suffocation. I took over 1200 dollars. My sense of duty to that one man, who had invested the small sum of half a dollar had returned mo a golden harvest.’