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Actorvicws
were just noises off stage — it was anything to be on the stage. Better shift scenery in a real theater than go to a dramatic school.”
“What good part besides this have you played?”
“In ‘9:45’ I was the ruined maid for seventy-five dollars a week — jumped from twenty-five, and I adored it. I told myself, ‘The old girl’s coming quite along!’ Then I skipped from the ruined maid to this child of thirteen in ‘Happy-Go-Lucky.’ A long life but exciting.”
“What does your father think of this performance of yours?”
“My dear man, Father’s never seen me act. He should be bothered! Oh, yes, once when we were rehearsing this play in New York he came round, but I chased him away.”
“How’d you like your father’s performance in ‘The Tavern’ ?”
“I haven’t seen it; I haven’t even seen Lowell Sherman’s performance in ‘The Tavern.’ The last, in fact, the only time I ever saw Father act was when he made a revival in 1914 of ‘You Never Can Tell’ — which reminds me that I wround up my letter to him with one of Dolly’s lines from that comedy : ‘We mean well, Mr. Crampstones, but we’re not yet strong in the filial line.’ ”
“How’d you like Father’s acting in 1914?” I persevered.
“I — don’t — know.” She seemed puzzled; she laughed eerily.
“What impression did you get?”
“My strongest impression was that he made too many faces. Which sounds like a snippy child trying to get a laugh at her parent’s expense. And that isn’t the idea. The idea — if I can explain it — is that Father’s acting was so notoriously good, according to experts,