21 Mins.; Full Stage (Special Interior). Allan Dinehart may be the meanest man in the world, but it will be a long time before he manages to make anyone believe it is his present offering. Allan is a nice boy and it seems more or less of a pity that he shouldn’t manage to get an offering more fitted to his talents than the present piece. He is a comedian, pure and simple, and a comedian who can convince an audience in a serious scene is about as rare as a snow-ball at the equator. T present Mr. Dinehart is not of the type of actor classified as a rarity. He is handicapped in the matter of support, but that was an error that should have been rectified before the act was shown. “The Meanest Man in the World” is a lawyer who self-styles himself thus in order to convince himself that he can be a regular Simon Legree and wield the black snake over the small debtors of a large corporation evidently is one that deals in women’s wear at wholesale. One of the creditors is J. Hudson & Co., who conduct a small shop in Kingston N.Y. they owe the corporation $200. The meanest man in the world is sent to collect or to close the establishment. On his arrival in the little office at the back of the Hudson store he encounters what he believes to be the firm’s stenographer, but it isn’t the stenographer at all, she really is the whole of J. Hudson & Co. (the audience is in the secret all the time) but the meanest man wasn’t wise even though there wasn’t another soul in the store. He tells what a bad man he is and the supposed stenographer pleads for time for the firm, claiming there is to be an Old Home Week Celebration within a month and the shop will make enough during this period to take care of the indebtedness (but anyone who ever lived in Kingston and managed to get away could not be gotten back to the burg other than in a coffin). The meanest man finally awakes to the fact that the stenographer is really the whole firm and has softening of the heart and incidentally of the brain, telephones to New York and borrows enough to take care of the firm’s debt. He also learns that through some legal manipulation J., Hudson has been trimmed of $20,000, and he is about to start out to collect that for her, when the stenographer suddenly shows she is more interested in the meanest man than in the money and there is a happy curtain. The act will do as a feature turn on the small time.
9 Mins.; Full Stage (exterior).
Three English dancing girls, who dance only. That helps some. Usually dancers find it necessary to sing. There are hard-shoe dancing and high kicking steps in the routine that fitted in on the early spot. The girls dress neatly and put vim into their work.
“True to Nature” 20 Mins.; Five Grant Carpenter has written a comedy playlet for Kathryn Osterman that carries more comedy at the finish than at the commencement. Its title, “True to Nature,” was once employed by Tom Mann. The Carpenter piece is about a divorcee who has attracted a married man to her side. He is a galivanting husband, and when discovered by his latest flame to be married, pleads his wife is an invalid, who forces him to seek congenial companionship of the opposite sex. To assure herself of this, the divorcee, receiving a check for $250, from the “chaser,” buys gowns with it, depositing the receipted bill into his overcoat pocket at his next call. In this way the wife learns of her husband’s latest infatuation, and calls upon the divorcee. A preamble ensures upon the duties of a wife, and the necessities to “hold a husband.” The wife is a dowdy looking creature, in contrast to Mrs. Best (Miss Osterman), the divorcee, elegantly gowned in evening costume. They talk and talk with smart repartee on the wife’s side calling for a repression of injured pride by Mrs. Best, Mr. Smith, the husband, is calling. Mrs. Smith had better slip into the new gown, and follow Mrs. Best’s instructions, which she does, to the consternation of Mr. Smith. He exclaims, “Can this be my Mary?” or something like, when Mrs. Best breaks in saying, “Listen, the biggest chump in the world is the man who finally finds out he has been buying wine for the wrong girl.” The speech seems to make a bigger hit with the audience than with Mr. Smith, for as he leaves the room with his wife, Smith runs back a minute to remark to Mrs. Best, “You are the loveliest woman in the world, and you little devil, I’ll get you yet.” The action starts with the entrance of Mr. Smith (James Kyrle MacCurdy). Mabel Wright plays the wife. The early portion should be edited by a non-interested party, and the husband introduced before ten minutes have elapsed as at present. Miss Osterman carries her role nicely, looks extremely well, and her assistance ably assist her, particularly Mr. Macurdy. The principal and the playing should carry the piece along nicely for one over the circuit. The sure fire of it is its appeal to women everywhere.
It’s Claude Seixas, the life saver, who leads this act under Charles Earl’s management. Seixas should be able to get a lot of publicity en route, as he is a life saver who has medals, cups, honor certificates and much newspaper and magazine stuff. The act opens with a short announcement by Earl and a reel of pictures showing Seixas at his life-saving tricks. Then Seixas and five girls offer a diving routine that is of similar construction to the other acts. The work of two girls stood out above the rest. The act will be all right when shaped on smoother running order and the girls evince more pepper.
Man and woman, apparently foreigners, with a routine of two dancing numbers in which they feature some excellent spins and whirlwind work. They look good, work gracefully and can dance, but there’s hardly enough for the present dancing requirements of big time vaudeville. They open at the Palace and except for occasionally applause in appreciation of a spin or twist, failed to arouse any noticeable enthusiasm.
: “One Word.” New? Yes. Novel? Yes. People? Two. Star? Yes. Who? Crosman. Henrietta? Yes. Words? Yes. Each? One. Length? Ten. Hours? No. Minutes? Yes. Enough? Plenty. Action? No. Punch? Depends. Upon – What? Idea – yes! Strikes – Who? You. And so on it might go until the end, the same as Miss Crosman and the young man supporting her in this sketch carry on a one-worded dialog. It’s away from the usual run of dramatic sketches, yet one can hardly see where it will set vaudeville afire. The redeeming feature at the Orpheum was the way Miss Crosman and the man handled the single word “conversation.” It keeps one on the alert connection the sketch as the utterance of one word by Miss Crosman and then by the man gives the dialog a halting, jerking momentum. Fortunately, the litthe skit by Frank C. Egan runs only 10 minutes. That’s about all the vaudeville would stand for, although any audience is going to pay Miss Crosman a lot of respect for she is capable actress and has done some big work on the stage. “One Word” is very light – too might for vaudeville perhaps, and would better serve as a curtain raiser to some short dramatic play where it was first seen before Miss Crosman accepted it. Vaudeville may accept “One Word” because of its ingenious construction, Miss Crosman’s prestige and its brevity. There are one or two good laughs and that’s about all. The act was mildly received at the Orpheum Monday night.
9 Mins.; Full Stage. The World’s champion heavyweight announcer, Loney Haskell, introduced the world’s champion lightweight pugilist, Freddie Welsh, to the Hammerstein audience Monday night. One gained his honors by talking and the other by fighting. Both showed how they did it that evening. The Boxing Commission would not permit a sparring exhibition, so Mr. Welsh went through his simpler methods of training as a stage display. These were interesting, including pulley and floor exercises, shadow and dummy boxing. Though a lightweight, Welsh is a slimly built young man, of fair appearance, and did neatly and nicely what little he could do under the limitations imposed. As a stage attraction he should have some value, for the championship, wrested by him from Willie Ritchie, holds much concern to fight fans. There’s no doubt, however, in a long distance or finish contest between Welsh and Haskell Loney could talk him to sleep.
14 Mins.; Full Stage (Cage). In Haveman’s Animals vaudeville has secured an attraction well worth while. A wild animal act of mixed beasts has been seen about on the variety stage for a long time. Hammerstein’s has not held one for years, or in fact, since Haveman last appeared there about eight years ago. This German doesn’t “train” the beasts, he plays with them, going so far as to feed them raw meat while in the cage, feeding three lions, two tigers, two leopards, and two cross-breeds (lions and tigers). When you are familiar and popular enough to give the full-grown kings of the forests a lunch of raw meat while putting them through tricks, it’s about due to the man who does it that he be dubbed the King of Trainers. Maybe it isn’t much of a feat, but it has never been seen before, and there’s no one hanging around this part of the country who wants to try it. Mr. Haveman fondles one of the leopards while it is munching the meat. Others he teases with the food, passing it before their faces, but while pawing for it, they do not leave their positions. At the finish, Haveman stands under the largest tiger, which is on the top of a pedestal and allows it to lap his face and head with its tongue. Other little points of interest are wrestling with a lion, rolling over with three or four of the animals, and allowing a tiger to punch him underneath, the trainer face upwards. Pleasant little pastimes. It’s especially a fine act for children, as an example of superior animal training or mastery hasn’t been touched to date. Haveman starts off with such speed and beyond the usual animal training, the house can’t understand it for a few moments, then everybody is marveling. It is said about the theatre Haveman sleeps with animals. It needn’t be doubted, for from the expert work shown, he will soon have lions and tigers running errands for him.
Smith and Hatch are a colored male pair that have gathered together several songs and a little more talk. The dialog is commonplace with the best laughs coming from the “language” bit. The songs are put over nicely. The “I’m the Guy That Paid the Rent” number used by the stout fellow, could be replaced by something with more comedy. Smith and Hatch should be able to make good as colored entertainers on small time.
Julian Dayton has a clever little sketch. It is a good laugh-maker and, with a little girl who plays the wife, cannot help but go along. Dayton is a hard-to-please husband who has a wife slaving for him. Across the airshaft is a woman who has had a great deal of experience in matrimony. She tells the wife not to let her husband walk all over her. When George (the husband) pulls in on this specific evening, he is out of sorts. Wifey wants to go to the opera. Husband finds fault with everything. It is the maid’s day out, and things do not run smoothly. The wife finally prevails upon him to put on his evening clothes for dinner, but does not tell him about the opera. George returns in the glad rags and finds fault with the wife’s cooking. He becomes enraged (the house. It is raining. He returns. The wife thinks it is her twin. She throws dishes around and surprises her spouse, following the instructions of her friend across the court. George is buffaloed. Then she springs the opera thing, and off they go. The second woman has little to do. The wife is acceptably done, some real laughs coming from her interpretation of an angry woman. Mr. Dayton is a fair husband, but owes the success of the sketch to his side partner.
