LIFE’S STRANGE TRICKS

Otago Daily Times, Issue 21988, 24 June 1933, Page 15

LIFE’S STRANGE TRICKS

FAMOUS JESTER’S ILLLUCK After 50 years of stage fame both in England and America, Fred Evans, brother of the late Will Evans, now ekes out an existence in his old age by playing an accordeon in the streets of London. When a Sunday - Chronicle correspondent spoke to Mr Evans recently he was standing on the kerb outside _ a teaehop just off the Strand. Despite his 70 years his fingers flew nimbly over the accordeon keys, and he played with all his old skill and verve. A sheet of cardboard disclosed in a few words Mr Evans’ identity and tragic history. Attached to the card was a photograph of a laughing clown—himself in the heyday of fame. What pathetic irony lay behind that striking contrast! One of the public’s favourite jesters wearing his grotesque, mirthmaking mask of grease-paint. The other, a handsome old man, with tired eyes, neatly-clipped grey moustache, and a wealth of well-brushed silver hair, “ I never thought I would come to this,” Mr Evans said. “For the last two years my luck has been 4 dead out.’ Before I had come on the streets 3 managed to get a few bookings for concerts and small shows. But to-day. , . .” He shrugged his shoulders wearily. “ You see, I’m an old man now, and the public get tired of seeing the old faces. Yes, I was ‘on the boards’ continuously for 50 years. My father was Fred Evans, the famous clown at Drury Lane. My late brother Will and I used to work together. But when we both got married we separated and and started companies of our own, “ I founded the Florador 1 Musical Quartet, which became quite famous. Eventually I went to .America and worked there for 14 years. I should not have returned had it not been for my eldest son, who induced me to come over here and work with him, but things did not pan out aa we expected, and from that time on my luck changed for the worse. Life and luck. They play rum tricks! ” The accordeon blared a quick, jerky tune, like a man laughing defiantly at fate, and the silver-haired old trouper resumed his kerbside “ act.”