LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5054, 15 July 1884, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE GHOST IN THE GREEN ROOMS.

The Prompter's Stort. (From Stories in the Green Boom.) " Not a bit of it !" said Parklemore,. our * ' heavy lead." " Why, I've known a story, myself, quite equal to yours ; which, I don't deny is, perhaps, saying a good deal." " Possibly !" sneered Mr Devigne. " There are plenty of ridiculous theatrical legends which pass muster for facts ;• but very few men can adduce so well-substan-tiated a ghost story as that which I have just related."

" My acquaintance with the aristocracy is necessarily slight and circumscribed/ remarked Mrs Lumley Brown (our leading lady, with a tongue of her own, by-the-by), "but I think I have met somewhere with a romance — was it not in the memoirs of the late lamented Baron Munchausen ? — which, in many points, offers something of a parallel to Mr Devigne's excellent tale."

There were several " sniggers," scarcely suppressed at this speech ; and really Mrs Brown's rudeness was not inexcusable ; for Mr Devigne's ghost story,given with chapter and verse, and horrible plausibility, was too outrageous to be patiently listened to. Mr Devigne was a now recruit in our company, which ( consisted of welltried and seasoned actors and actresses, and didn't altogether relish the affectations and monstrous conceit of this youngest member, whose qualification for our profession seemed to be wardrobe . and cheek. I've been in my profession a goodish few years, and I own to my objections to these broadcloth and shirtfront amateurs, who, so far as I see and read, know more about every other art in the world than that which they honour by pursuing. "Why, only the other day, I overheard a real criticism on one of these sweet young gentlemen's performances. " Splendid, wasn't it P Grand ! the finest Mildmay I ever saw ; did you notice his trousers 1 "

Well, all this means that we weren't, any of us, sorry to find young Devigne tackled by Parklemore and Mrs Lumley Brown; and to put that young gentleman down was the dear wish of my heart. When Parklemore spoke of a ghost story to " cap " Devigne's he looked hard at me, and winked his O.P. eye tremendously, such was his power of facial expression, without disturbing the prompt-sido lid. The fact is, I can spin as tough a yarn as most people when I've the chance and am in the humour, and Parklemore's wink did the trick with me.

"It's mighty funny," retorted Devigne, "no doubt! and what is your astounding story, Mr Parklemore ?"

" It's not my story," Baid out leading heavy, with a strong sense of justice, " it's Flagman's ! " This was putting it on to me with a vengeance j but I lookod becomingly grave, and remarked— "l am sorry, Mr Parklemore, that you should have referred to yhat cannot but be tho occasion for disturbing sad reminiscences, which Bhould otherwise have remained in the slumberous caverns of a sensitive soul." There was quite a buzz of applause at this sentiment, which was, indeed, almost a verbatim quotation from a play expressly written for the late lamented Mrs Therose c"c Tattershaui by a gifted M.P., who war too early lost to the Legislature and hi* country by abrupt interference on tho part of his artful family, aided and abetted by the Commissioners in Lunacy.

" Bother the caverns of thiug-um-bob ! " said Mr Devigne, with that want of real feeling for the sublime which is the bosetting sin of his class. " What's the Btory about P"

" It's about a deceased friend of mine, whose terrible ' re-appearance after his late fatal indisposition' overclouded a portion of my chequered life!" I responded; being, as the astute reader of these pages has already guessed, the Mr Flagman in question, and prompter to our Jcouipnny. I think my poetical words rather knocked young Devigne over, for he only said 'Oh!' But, how Parklemore did wink! My eye !— l should say, h:'i. " Some years since," I resumed, copying as far as lay in my power the gifted tones of the late baritone actor, Scruffum ; not in Westminster Abbey, by the wayl

EEEEEEEEEEESEEESESEEEEEEEEEEEEE but my good friend for all that, and possessing a capacity for keeping up his voice in Macbeth and similar parts, which I havo never heard equalled in these 'piping times of pieces' — "some years since, when I was with old Grimston's Company, and pretty well used to all lines of business ; throwing the real legitimate, i.e., the prompting part, in, of course; I came across, while we were travelling, one of theatrangest characters which (the present company always excepted) I ever encountered. Where Bancalari came from, what he had been, or what he was likely to be, were ordinary and not unnatural questions amongst us from the first tragedy downwards. It was reserved for me, having always a heart ready to respond to the outcry of Buffering or oppressed humanity (from * Ursula the Undone/ five ;v. fcs), to dive into Bancalari's secret. In «>ur Company ho was strictly a nobody. He was 'cast ' for dead soldiers, speechless guests, even ' outside shouts ;' but never for a ' speaking part,' though such was his lowest Ambition. Personally, lam above this ; I rjhave spoL<. v some of the finest lines in the whole repertory of the drama ! — for others ' " If b no joke, though, if you're ambitious, to be kept under ; smouldering so to speak don't suit would-be inflammatory 'stars;' and Bancalari drooped, visibly drooped. To me alone did that broken creature confide lis woes. He felt within hjni (it waa about all he did feel, for he wpurnad food, as it were), a ' divine hiatus,' / a craving to excel in the — what I may call / —sepulchral parts in Shakespeare's plays. I But it was not to be. The iron heel of / tyranny was crushed upon his brow ; (I quote V from ' Dulacho the Dauntless.") The man / __- flank; when our company left Tembury, V"" Bancalari declined to follow our fortunes. J "We haven't made 'em yet, by the way. He W remained. But why? A chance opened i for him, that's why! A weak-minded manager had taken the T.R., Tembury, for six months certain. Here was Bancalari residuum of a stock Company of renown. Distinctly his chance. We were glad to hear of this, and we went our ways to the north, and Bancalari stopped in Tembury. Stopped altogether. " It seems that the poor chap had made up his mind to come out strong and for that purpose had studied every principal part in the Shakespearian and legitimate drama. Judge of my, everybody's, horror, to read in the Banffshire Banner the ghastly tidings that Bancalari had hung himself (from a batten) two days after the new Company had arrived at Tembury. Never mind about the details; the facts were, professionally, these : Bancalari had gained the lofty summit of his ambition. Ignorant of his speechless position in our Company, the manager of the ' Meteoric Mummers ' had caat him for no less a character than Guildenstern in 'Hamlet;' and Bancalari felt his importance to the quick. Unhappily, a bill-sticker (whose weakness in ' posting ' programmes upside down might have led to more charitable and generous acts in another less publicly culpable) let out on Bancalari's real professional status, and the part was taken from him ; officially, tho character assigned to him was one of the bearers of Ophelia's remains. The generally grave atmosphere of Hamlet was too much for this bursting bouI; and throwing up the part nature had written for him, he left the theatre and the world for ever. Poor Bancalari ! " Some two years afterwards, I, with a very different troupe, was back in Tembury for a fortnight's engagement. Terms were good, and both Screwer and M'Howler were with us, so that business was pretty sure. Odd to say, both low comedy and., high tragedy stars objected to tho engagement the very first night, and there waa a regular shindy in the manager's room after^fehe performance. The cause soon eked oit. It appeared that when p-ade up for the farce, went into y the Grepii Room, and, as he was accustomed - ' to do, began to ' mug ' in the cheval-glass, » gloomy, pale-faced, seedy-looking personage suddenly showed himself behind the .•distinguished comedian, and with an exw pression of contempt beyond even theatrical hitherto experience, observed, " Bad ! low ! not a bit like ! could do better myself !" and incontinently left the apartment. " Screwer never played so badly in his life, and never swore so successfully ; but M'Howler's time had to come. While he was gesticulating before the glass the apparition returned. f Very bad !' said the ghost. ' Shockingly bad ! Bow, wow ! Not a bit like it ! not a little bit ! You play Hamlet ! Go home !' and once more the figure vanished. There was ' fits ' for the manager next day, for it turned out that every one of the visiting company who had gone into the Green Room had been similarly insulted. "Of course, it all came to my ears, and somehow everyone soon knew of this outrage, ahd a watch was set ; but the next night the same trouble ensued. The ' starring ' lady was sent into hysterics by what folks began to call * the Ghost in the Green Room,' and really things were getting quite unpleasant, when it occurred to me to go and look the case up myself. I transferred the book to the under carpenter, who knew the 'pulls/ if nothing else, and betook myself to the little green-room. It was empty, for everybody was on in the last act of the drama and I stared about. Suddenly, I heard a sigh, and looking to the door, I saw Bancalari standing just inside the room, where his figure was reflected in the big glass. ' James !' I cried, * Jamea Bane; — * I couldn't get another word out. I was downright petrified. " Yes, Flagman," said Bancalari's ghost, intones which our greatest living tragedian cannot hope to rival. " Yes, I am, or was, Soncalari!" " I trembled like an aspen, but remembered Hamlet. "Why do you trouble ua ? What do you want ? " " « I want a " part," ' said the Ghost. ' I think I can play one now.' '"Now, James?' I faltered. 'Now? Why, Guilden— ' '"Away with your Guildoasterns ! I play the Ghost in Hamlet to-r.iorrow night, or farewell to the fortunes of this theatre. Here I suffered, here I died. Here, too, I will revive the Shakesperian drama! Which is it to be ? ' and the spectre frowned remorseless. The tomb had produced in Bancalari that haughty indifference to everybody's feelings or convenience which marks, and will ever mark, the successful actor when living. " ' James/ I Baid, ' we were ever on good terms whilst we were in that little Company, and it would go to my heart to deny you a trifle Buch as you demand ; but how is it to be done ? I confess you are better qualified for the part you have so judiciously selected than anyone I could name. But how is it to be done ?' " At this moment the call-boy entered the room, and before a word could pass between any of us, the apparition had disappeared. I seemed to hear, however, a sort of sad whispering sound in the air like the woid 'Remember!' and I shuddered. Next day I made a singular effort to accomplish my poor old friend's wish. I got up a little quarrel between our two leading men on the subject of tragedy acting, and the inevitable result was that the manager wan obliged to put up 'Hamlet.' The rehearsals were brief, for we were all well up in the legitimate ; but, odd to say, at the last call, our gentleman (old miin) who played the Ghost of Hamlet's father was taken suddenly ill. This, I ne«id not tell you, was by private arrangement with me. The manager weis furious, so waa the Hamlet. What Mas to be done Would they leave it to me to find a substitute? Could it be managed? I •answered for it, it could. My friend, I told them, of the name of James Banks would eaaay that part. ' W i. he look it ?' wji* the not unnatural qi: . fcion of the management. 'He will/ suia I, shivering, 'remarkable.' IS.'-' I went into town ; my spirits were low ; I entered a retired hotel (where there was a bar), and while supporting worried nature against what was to happen that niyht, who Bhould tome in but Mr Screwger, tho dramatic critic of the Tembury Times. Tho idea occurred L ■ .ie that that gentleman should be presen ; . md place on record his opinions of tho l, -w ' appearance/ After the second glass ho yielded to my request, and would take the trouble to be at the theatre, though he confessed

mmmmammmmi^tmmmmtmmmmxmamamtaaamrmmmmaß to me that our leading gentleman's Hamlet injured his health severely, as much on its own account as because of the necessity for stimulants which it occasioned. " Nevertheless, ho would come. " So did the evening, and M'Howler was in a pretty way with me. There had been no signs of anybody to play the Ghost, and I was regularly denounced by the lot. ' Mark my words,' I said stubbornly ; ' he'll be on the spot for his cue.' "The curtain roa?, and Francisco, Bernardo, Marcellus, and Horatio were leading up to the entrance of the late King, when I noticed a blue light in the first wing, and there, looking as" no ghost ever looked before, stood James Bancalari ! Tho next moment he was on the stage. * # * * # * # "To tell you how that play of ' Hamlet ' went that night is beyond me. The alarm of Hamlet at sight of his father's spirit was about the best thing M'Howler ever did, and the Queon's fainting fit in Act iii., scene ir., was very like real. I went hastily to the Green Room. James Bancalari was there, lurid, but self-satisfied. " There will be a notice of this performance to-morrow," he said, smiling; "let **"hat is said of me be written on my tomb, and I shall rest in peace." I agreed gladly, for I was cold all down my spine, I tell you. "The Company all met next morning on the stage to discuss the new addition to the ranks. Tho Tembury Times was brought in. M'Howler seized it, ari read aloud, as follows : — " ' There was little to call for attention or notice last evening, at our pretty little Temple of the Drama, seeing the well-worn tragedy of Hamlet, with Mr M'Howler in the part of the melancholy Prince, occupied the boards, and with the merits of both our readers are familiar. The Company sustained their respective rules with much effect. We must, however, take exception to the performer who attempted to play the Ghost. Neither by physique nor any other qualification was he fitted for the character — in fact, he was not in the least our notion of a Ghost, and we must chronicle what we believe to be a first appearance, as a complete failure.' "There was a dismal wail in the air close to my ears, and a sort of rushing sound, and then silence fell upon us. " ' Poor fellow ! ' waa our one remark. " This was the first and last appearance of James Bancalari. "His ghost was never seen again." **#* * * * • "And you mean to tell me," said Devigne, " that a real spirit played in a real theatre ? Then I don't hesitate to say that the whole story is a 'cracker' from end to end." " I said I knew a story which could cap yours," said Parklemore, grinning.