THEAT ICAL SUPERSTITION.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume IX, Issue 673, 29 January 1903, Page 9

THEAT ICAL SUPERSTITION.

Mr Frank Thornton tells a gooa -story illustrative J of the superstition that prevails amongst theatrical people, as with Others.. Here it is in his own words “ Once upon a time I came to an agreement with! poor D’Oyly Carte to stagemanage and produce ‘ Princess Ida ’ in 'America. 'And we further agreed that the contract should be signed and that I should start by to-morrow’s midnight train for Euston. Home I went, packed up trunks, sweated, bustled, worried, grafted, 'got ready. Then, early, next morning, I rattled ’ *jg cab. down!‘to Mr ‘ Carte’s* office. Self-congratulation rose within me as I reflected that the signing of the contracts would occupy but ten minutes, and that then I would have the rest of the -day to spend in the way that I liked best. The doorkeeper , stopped me. ‘ Beg par-

don, sir ; Mr Carte is very busy now, sir, and cannot see you.' For a moment the news knocked me over, then 1 knocked'the doorkeeper over, jumped up the stairs and into Carte’s office. ‘ D’Oyly !’ I shouted. ‘ what’s the game ?’ He looked up from his desk and said very affably, ‘ There is no game I will meet ®vou at the train and sign the contract.’ I answered : ‘Rats! If you’re going to sign the contract why not do it now ?’ Rising with dignity he said very solemnly and collectedly, ‘ My dear Thornton, don’t get excited ; I’ll meet you at the train and sign the contract.’ “ Well,” continued Thornton, “ at about, fifteen minutes before midnight I arrived at the railway with my bags, my trunks, my boxes, my portmanteaux, my hatboxes, my mackintosh, my great coat, my Umbrella, my goloshes, my orange, my biscuits, my tea-bottle, my milk-bottle, my cushion, my fur-cap, my slippers, my cough-mixture, my whisky, my cigar-box. etc. And there was no sign of D’Oyly Carte. I began and kept at it for ten minutes. As I stopped momentarily to get

breath, I heard a soft, suave voice purring at my side : ‘ My dear Thornton, my wife has come with me to see you off.’ 1 “ ‘ Oh, no, D’Oyly; I’m not off.*;’ “ ‘ My dear Thornton, don’t make a scene; kindly get in the train and I’ll sign the contract.’ “ 1 My dear D’Oyly, I will get into the train after you have signed the contract, and it’s now two minutes to twelve.’ “ Mrs Carte got hold of my right arm, Mr Carte took my left, and partly by entreaty and mostly by shoving they got me into the carriage. “ The clock began boomimg the midnight twelve. “ ‘ Sh-h-h ! dear Mr Thornton,’ purred Mrs Carte. “ ‘ Sh-h-h, be blowed,' I said ; ‘ look here, D’Oyly, if that contract’s not signed, I’ll get out at Liverpool' and come back.’ Bang ! went the last stroke of midnight “ Shriek ! went the train whistle.' D’Oyly Carte whipped the contracts out of his pocket, Mrs Carte fetched an ink-bottle and pen out of her pocket, and we were

off ; I in the carriage, D’Oyly Carte and Mrs Carte running along the platform, Mrs* D’Oyly clutching her skirts up with her left hand, and keeping stride with her husband. So for thirty yards we sped along, Mrs Carte holding the ink-bottle in . her right hand, D’Oyly Carte signing the contract, then scrambling me the pen, I signing the duplicate. Throwing the duplicate to them I Ihung out of the window and shouted, ‘ Why didn’t you fix it up before ?’ And D’Oyly Carte propping at the edge of the station with red puffing cheeks, with /his panting wife beside him,... clutching the ink-bottle in her right hand and her skirts in her left,.; clapped his : hands one each side of his mouth and shot back the answer through the distance, above the roar of the train, ‘ Because —I— nev-er —sign! — a — con-tract — on — Frir dav-v ! !’ ”