Actorviews (1923)

The First Gentleman of the Theater 5 chin — save on the stage — and if any woman ever was the “toast of the town” — save in a play. “John, how far back do you remember the stage?” “Oh, I remember as a boy going to see Charlotte Cushman play Meg Merrilies,” he said, as casually as you’d say you remembered Bernhardt as Camille. But, casually as he said it, I couldn’t help thinking that Cushman was born in 1816, and that somehow this not-at-all-aged gentleman had contacts with a century ago. For a minute I felt that I must not call him John, no matter how affectionately meant; it didn’t sound quite respectful. But only for a minute. Then one of the hotel valets came in and hung up a suit of tweeds, and my host observed that he must be a very disorderly person to require so much pressing. Speaking of which, he remarked a line in “The Circle” which struck him as being peculiar — the line where Mr. Lawford’s character observes of Mr. Drew’s that, “He wore his clothes better than any man in London.” “Curious thing,” he said, “for one Englishman of that class to say about another. They rather take that sort of thing as a matter of course.” “It is rather American,” said I, and reminded John Drew of the days when what he wore was almost as important a matter of news as what he acted. And I thought that what he wore now was no bad tribute to the fading art of dandyism, as I noted the subtle harmonies of his brown homespun, pink-striped collar, wine-colored handkerchief (in the pocket, not the cuff!) and olive tie with its counterpoints of pink. But I kept my thoughts, and, as I say, recalled the days when the product of his tailor rivaled the product of his playwright. To which John Drew said, laughing, that