Lubin and Lewis, two men doing black and tan, knocked ‘em for a goal. They put over their comedy talk like showmen, Lubin doing a hard shoe dance, stopping proceeding then and there. They finish with a comedy song and went off the applause hit of the bill.
Swift and Daley play some novelty musical instruments, with some bright comedy talk between, Swift, a good showman, does comedy and gets all he can out of it, while Miss Daley, a clever musician, plays her instruments exceedingly well, but he act is badly arranged, and with a better routine could hold a later spot in the pop houses.
Princeton and Watson held next to closing with ease, a few of their gags missing in getting laughs. Princeton exhaled his slang that appealed to all. It seems strange to see Miss Watson doing straight, not even singing one number, when she had worked so long to establish a standing around here as a singing comedienne. It looks like a good single gone to waste for half of a fair double, though the act did very big.
Faber and Burnette, doing Flanagan and Edwards’ old act with the bed scene, made another clean sweep. These two chaps went through the routine, putting their talk and hoak across in a manner that marks them for the bigger time. They close in “one” with a ukulele and jazz kazoo combination with a parody song entitled “Topics of the Day,” taking them off for a half a dozen bows, with more if they wanted it.
Black and O’Donnell, man and woman, the man doing boob character to the woman’s straight followed. They begin with some bright chatter, getting laughter, the woman making her exit, while the man sings a comedy number. The woman reappears with a new costume and plays a rather lengthy selection on a violin, later changing to a jazz number, and how she can make that Stradivarius talk! The man is of a chubby type and surprises with a buck and wing, while the woman plays the violin, taking them off successfully.
Forrest and Church opened with old-fashioned costumes, special drop, the man strumming on a banjo, with the woman doing an old-fashioned minuet. They got to the bunch fast. Switching to an up-to-date routine, the man is behind as xylophone and the girl does some up-to-date dancing, stopping ‘em cold.
Bevan and Flint pulled down the wow-laugh sensation of the day with the man’s convulsing opening and the fast hoakum all the way and to the very end, abetted by the statuesque and striking woman “straight.”
Barnes, who differs from most monologists in that his talk is intelligent and ironical rather than absurd and punny [sic], seemed to find the center of gravity with this vast mob of reputed lowbrows. His my-wife’s-first-husband-John stuff, with which he is familiarly identified, got screams. He likewise encored.
Bert Fitzgibbon introduced his brother, Lew, playing the piano. Bert plays a xylophone besides doing other nutty things. Then they trade instruments. A plugger back stage takes the place of the jack in the box of yore. Went entirely Fitzgibbon, which means going O.K.
Emma Haig, came next, and on charm, lightness of dancing, carriage, swift switches in the routine and an all-around air of polite but chummy atmosphere, whizzed through and flirted off for a hit.
