GREENROOM GOSSIP.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1352, 23 March 1916, Page 36

GREENROOM GOSSIP.

Just think of it —the Christmas theatrical season of 1915-1916 was one of the busiest on record. We are indeed a wonderful people!—“London Opinion.”

“I have come to the conclusion,” says James C. Bain, one-time rival of Harry Shine for single comedian honours, “that I would sooner draw a salary on. Friday night than have to pay a lot of salaries away to other people. I have had my share of theatrical trials as a manager, and and now I am going to sing my little songs and let the other fellows do the worrying.” James C. Bain goes back to vaudeville as a performer after many years as a manager. He is now appearing on the Fuller circuit, and in his new act will have the assistance of an agile and able young daughter.

Her Majesty’s Theatre in Sydney is known as the Soldiers’ Club, so popular is “So Long Letty” with the boys in khaki. Miss Dorothy Brunton is the Letty of the production.

Hobart has decided, by a majority of 420 votes, in favour of a continuance of Sunday picture shows.

A Sydney paper recalls the fact that “Arrah-na-Pogue,” dear to Irish hearts, bore the sub-title of “The Wicklow Wedding” in its early production. Its first performance was at the Dublin Theatre Royal on November 7, 1864. It reached London, at the Princess’, on March 22, 1865. In these productions the author, Dion Boucicault, played Shaun the Post, and Mrs. Boucicault was seen as Arrah. The author played Shaun in Australia some 30 years ago. At the London Adelphi in August, 1876, J. C. Williamson and Maggie Moore took the leading parts. In later years in Australia Miss Moore had the play in her touring repertoire, and used to sing such songs as are how usually heard from Shaun.

“Arrah-na-Pogue” had an appreciative revival in Sydney, with Mr. Gerald E. Griffin as Shaun the Post, and Miss Ethel Buckley (Mrs. George Marlow) as Arrah.

Mr. George Marlow is preparing a big war chest matinee to take place at the Adelphi Theatre, Sydney, on March 31. Artists from the J. C. Williamson, Fuller and Mclntosh managements will also assist.

Mr. Charles Berkeley is managing the Brisbane season of “Mother uoose” pantomime for J. C. Williamson, Ltd.

There is one notable artist who never suffers from -wounded feelings over what the newspapers say aoout uer periormances, so says a Maaoume correspondent. This is Miss Myrtle Tannehill, starring with Hale Hamilton in “It Pays to Advertise.” She never reads the newspaper notices of the productions in which she appears. Not that they ever contain much that might hurt Miss Tannehill’s susceptibilities, or give her cause for depression. But Miss Tannehill has for years made it a practise, after first night performances not to read the newspaper critics’ reports. She confesses that her supersensititiveness is the reason. “If the papers say nice things about me, all right,” she said. “If they are otherwise, well, what the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve for! ”

Miss Thelma Raye, one of the new stars of the Tivoli Follies, who will tour New Zealand again very shortly, is a London girl, who made her first successes on the concert platform. Then the late George Edwardes engaged her, and after a while she came to Australia. Her success with the Follies eclipsed any achievement she has ever made in musical comedy. It is a success of personality, a triumph of womanly charm and grace. Miss Raye, in private life, is everything that the vaudeville star is expected not to be. She is of a retiring disposition, of studious habit, and is an enthuriast of the East.

When “The Merry Widow” is played in Melbourne by the Royal Comic Opera Company, Leslie Holland will be Danilo. Mr. Holland was originally approached by the J. C. Williamson management to come to Australia to play this part, but, being unable to obtain a release from his London engajement, Andrew Higginson was sent insteofL

TRAINED SEALS IN THE CIRCUS.

CAPTAIN RULING’S METHODS

Captain Frank Huling, whose troupe of performing seals is such an attractive item at Wirths’ Circus, which is at present showing in Auckland, near the Hobson Street baths, tells some interesting things about seals.

These animals inhabit the rocky parts of the coast of California and live exclusively on fish. They are exceptionally fine swimmers and can catch almost any fish. The average life of a seal under natural conditions is from 50 to 75 years, and some grow to a weight of over a ton. Netting these animals is quite an industry on this coast. “When they are first caught,” says Captain Huling, “they are very ugly, and are all the while waiting to bite and to injure you. This goes on for about four or five months, and when they have become accustomed to you and are used to being handled, their education commences. Sometimes they take even longer and sulk. I

knew one seal that refused food for 50 days. This is only a short way on the road though, for they are about the most difficult animal to train and present that I know of. They have a keen brain, but they seem to be all the while using it to kind of take a rise out of you, but if you treat them kindly you can get along with them all right. It takes about two years to break them in for performing before the public.” “Yes, I believe in kindness to my animals. I don’t think much can be done by cruelty.” continued Captain

Huling. “I have a letter here written to one of the papers in Nancy, France, by Mdlle. Marguerite Mangen, the president of the Society for the Protection of Animals. She says, ‘I have much pleasure in announcing that owing to the way in which you present and treat your animals, your act is really a treat to watch. I have nevei' seen animals better trained than those, and they seem to have a great affection for you.’ That is one of the points I insist on —kindness.”

“I was touring Texas at one time and we were on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico at Galveston. One of my best seals, a very valuable animal, was sick, and the only way I thought of to save him was to let him go. I took him down to the beach and put him in the water. He swam out until he seemed but a fly speck on the sea, and I thought he was gone. He came back, however, and crawled to my feet and I fussed him, bade him good-bye and drove away. The manager of the theatre undertook to look after him, and for a time after I had gone I was told he was doing well, but one day I got a wire saying that he was dead. He was a fine animal, but I knew that was his only chance of living — freedom —and I took it.”