12 Mins.; One. The Man Who Grows. Willard, the man who grows at will has one of the most distinct and unique vaudeville novelties extant, combining an interesting study in human physiology with a semi-comic monolog that never touches the monotonous point of a lecture, and behind both a personality and delivery entirely unexpected in a turn of this nature. In evening dress, with a colored attendant in livery, Willard explains a few facts of current and past interest, giving a line on his birth, habits, etc., the spiel being well blended with comedy. Willard, who is six feet tall normally, then exhibits his growing abilities, after assembling a committee on the stage. The elongation is visible and mystifying, more so when Willard disproves the suspicion of a dislocation by freely exercising the joint muscles of knee, neck and waist while at an extreme height. Resting on one foot he elongates the other, and vice versa, following this with a display of arm growth, extending either arm a distance of about fifteen inches beyond normal length. Realizing this to be the only act of its kind in existence, a complete review is difficult, for Willard is one of that strange species of novelty that one must see to appreciate. At Hammerstein’s on a topheavy hill he was one of the evening’s hit and without doubt is valuable card, for Willard will create comment, and with the advertising possibilities contained in his exhibition, should break into the record division if properly handled.
[New act] Comedy and songs, 14 mins.; one. Last winter Ned Nestor and Olivette Haynes headed a revue. Out by themselves they have framed a skit routine called “Her Guardian.” Nestor plays straight, Miss Hayne doing an eccentric comedienne throughout. The opening talk hinges on the young guardian’s threat to marry her off to an old professor, the cross fire working up a tag line, “Get Out.” Nestor singled with a lullaby, the words of which were parodied, and he sued a pillow to represent an infant. He dodged the high notes in the number, but yodeled rather well. Miss Haynes had “Im a Darn Wise Kid.” Her clowning drew giggles and she shaped up as a promising eccentric. On next to closing the act was well liked.
[New act] Monologist, 12 mins.; one. Billy Connery has stories and songs. A good part of his chatter is located overseas and there are war angles which carry out his mention of having been a soldier. Some of the stories were in Irish brogue, but he showed familiarity with French with a song number of the close which drew him an earned encore. A rhymed yarn recited with muted orchestration was anent the war and the part of the Yanks played. That bit went for a good hand. For pop audiences Connery is amusing. He delivered nicely here.
[New acts] Skating and dancing, 9 mins; one. Two young men in evening dress, who have an untutored routine, opening with song and dance on the Doyle and Dixon line, then going into roller skating, after one announced a solo dance as his own conception of tapping He seemed to think more of it than the audience did. The small time is the place for the act, where it may be able to locate more advantage than it does now. Both the boys might learn to take bows without making a facial appeal apparently for them. That is more acrobatic than artist.
After that the applause was frequent, Glad Moffatt in the second spot makes the mistake of too great a similarity in the style of numbers in her repertoire. For instance, the selection of two comedy numbers, both in Irish brogue, isn’t wise. The rube number seems unsuited to her. Perhaps a little switching of songs might prove beneficial.
“Marriage vs. Divorce,” the Rath and Garren allegorical playlet, which is really a combination sketch and singing and dancing act, which held the spot immediately preceding Collins, was one of the hits of the bill. Just why this act is still playing around on the small time is hard to ascertain by looking at the turn. It bears all the earmarks of a big time offering and it certainly entertains.
A pleasing entertainment the first half, altogether the show ran in a somewhat unusual manner with Mitt Collins, the headliner, closing. The audience seemingly was in doubt when he finished as to whether or not it was the end of vaudeville. Collins incidentally did not seem to get warmed up to his work for some little time after he started, and he was pulling hard for laughs. His style of delivery (at lest the style he employed Monday night) lost a great many of the points that should have been sure fire.
The Ricards held them fast in closing with some magic stunts that pleased, but were a shade less interesting than the shadowgraph work of the man.
Cortelli and Rogers were strong in the next-to-closing spot, the wop comedy of Cortelli especially causing the hit of the turn.
Adams and Robinson, in the deuce spot exchanged a note of songs in the duet key for some effective harmony. One plays the piano and the other dances. The colored men were well received.
