The laugh register was Mary Haynes, substituting for Kharum, opening after intermission. Miss Haynes’ material in a considerable proportion just suited the Colonial audience. Much of it isn’t very high. They thought well of her “five-an-ten-cent store clerk,” which she does well, but the best bit in the turn, and new for Miss Haynes, is about marrying a juggler. Miss Hayes took rank as a single on the small time with little polishing.
Maurice Powers and Vernon Wallace started slowly with talk on a bench, but the good verses gradually lifted the pace and they finished to good applause with a comedy wedding number.
17 Mins.; Full Stage (Parlor) “The Kleptomaniacs.” Miss Florence and Mr. Ely are presenting the former Rice and Cohen sketch on the small time. A good laughs producing farce as ever in their hands. Barring a tendency to overplay Mr. Ely, the act can play on any bill that has a spot for a sketch.
Eddie Dyer and Mabel Walzer came next. Dyer is a neat appearing juvenile, while Miss Walzer is a nut comedienne of the comedy clumsy type, having earned quite a reputation in this section with Boyle Woolfolk’s Tabloids. She leaves an impression that she is imitating Harriet Lee of Ryan and Lee, but she should get out of the habit, as she is clever enough to impersonate no one. Their chatter is nifty, and a soft shoe dance by Dyer and a kid number by Miss Walzer got them off with big returns.
Annie Kent and Co. followed, Miss Kent is a clever comedienne and put her numbers over extremely well, the best of which is “It’s a gay Life,” with some very good interpolated gags that act her out as one of those women who will do anything except falling into the bass drum for a laugh. She gets laughs throughout the numbers and gets a good hand after her session. Her assistant at the piano works hard to put his number over with little success.
17 Mins.; One. Albert F. Hawthorne and Jack Inglis make up this team of “nut” comics. Inglis has had a reputation as a “nut” on the small time and at last has framed an act with a partner of sufficient class to warrant the turn making the big time. The turn the duo are offering contains 17 solid minutes of laughter and the boys work hard throughout the entire time. Their bit with the instruments at the finish is definite bid for additional applause but as it worked legitimately enough there can be no objection. Inglis has a peculiar style, entirely his own. He throws ginger into the turn from the first minute, and his partner, feeding as he does the biggest part of the time, fills in nicely. Acts of this type are much needed.
Vine and Temple delivered in usual style. Vine is not doing as much Hebrew stuff as he used to, but what he did proved him a showman of first water Miss Temple, a sweet-looking plump darling, won admiration on looks and ability. The team is sure-fire small time and is always welcome in this house.
Morton and Dennis, another two-man act, doing a silly clown, the other straight, sprung plenty of released gags, but have an unusual deliver and style that struck just right.
Resista closes, girl they can’t lift ballyhooed by a well groomed woman, and for a finale eight men with a derrick can’t budge her. Held them in solid. Audience exits talking about her.
“My Wife from London” 19 Mins.; Five (Parlor). “My Wife from London” is Scotch, played by Scots. Like other plays and playlets from that country or that country’s authors, it has irresistible humor, in dialog, expression and emphasis. The Scotch writer, while not as wildly anxious for continuous laughs as the English or American comedy penman, making a bull’s eye when he does aim. It may be said to be a fault that he doesn’t aim often enough, but this is offset in part at least by the continuity of the story told, even in a sketch. Walter Roy wrote “My Wife from London,” perhaps as good a title as any. The playlet is very entertaining, or would be those accustomed to refined vaudeville and to those who prefer that sort rather than slapstick. It’s hard to say whether the Fifth Avenue crowd Tuesday evening liked it better than they did a Swede comedian. Some of the best matter in the Scotch turn got but half of what it deserved, while the Swede when he opened his mouth, giving a long howl, for no reason and no possible object (excepting he hadn’t had anything else written in for him to do) received the loudest laughter of the night from those in front. Comedy is comedy to those who like it. It’s also a matter of education by those who sell it through the box office. Some keep the box office busy and some do not. Mr. Roy plays the principal role in the Scotch skit, although Peggy McCreed is featured. She’s a good-looking blonde girl, plump and living up to the usual Scotch billing of “bonny,” although she is English in this case, in character and in fact. The story is of an elderly couple, always quarreling. Their son left for London a few years before. The girl is their ward. The son married her before going away. He returns after having become successful on the London musical hall stage as a Scotch comedian. The mother is glad to have her boy back, regardless, but the father is stern. He wants to know what he has done, and is horrified at his boy turning into a “play actor.” The father asks the son how much he gets a week for making a fool of himself. “Thirty pounds,” replies the boy. “For thirty pounds we can afford to be disgraced a little,” answers the pater. The piece is nicely played. It is restful in a sense and there are surprise laughs obtained without effort. It is well written effort and should be able to make itself worth booking on big time, although it is not a big comedy number, though capable of improvement, especially the finish, which might end in another quarrel scene. Mr. Roy makes up well as the father and does equal well in his playing.
