Canadian Film Weekly (Dec 26, 1945)

L @ December 26, 1945 continent on the depot wall. He traced the distance between Hickman and Toronto with his finger and shivered a little. It was a long way from home for a 17-year-old lad with 15 cents in his pocket, ten of which he was about to be spent for coffee and doughnuts. Arriving at Hickman, he left his bags and instruments, which now included a trombone, in-a hardware store and walked to the docks. As he arrived a thrilling yet almost dismaying sight met his eyes. There, in all its marine magnificence, came the showboat! He caught the excitement of the waiting natives as it docked. Soon a fine-looking man with a well-trimmed gray goatee and the grandest of grand manners disembarked and strode majestically in his direction. He was Hisen° barth, a showboat captain from Captainville if there ever was one. His intended employee recognized him from the picture on his letter—as if Eisenbarth needed such identification! The man’s impressiveness shrunk his newest recruit’s ego and for a moment the world grew much too big for him. He became conscious of his age, size and weight, the last being under 100 pounds. During that flash of self-doubt the Captain marched by. Jack just couldn’t muster enough nerve to introduce himself. He did later and found him a fine person. Jack took charge of the 14-piece orchestra, “especially augmented for the occasion,” as the phrase of the day had it, and quite a thing, for a goodsized group consisted of nine pieces and most of six. The showboat was a trouper’s paradise, for there were not the daily “two perfs” of musical comedy or “four perfs” of vaudeville but one show each evening. There was much variety in each show and changes of bill on each date. Jack, with a chance to play each instrument, conduct and deliver a solo between acts, received a thorough schooling. He learned things he hasn’t forgotten since, among them production, tempo and personal speed, for everyone carried out a variety of tasks. Audience tastes varied at each stop and had to be taken into account. It was the most enjoyable training a trouper could have. Ten months later, a full-fledged showman in his own mind and almost in fact, young Mr. Arthur returned to Toronto, challenging all assignments and barring none. The return of the local boy who, in his own mind, had made good was something to see—and he was going to make sure the stay-at-homes of his calling and the yokels would see it. The junior Arthur exterior was encased in the latest fancy-cut Canadian FILM WEEKLY Sack Arthur Presents = (Continued from Page 12) overcoat, the type which distinguished the dudes of the day. This was topped by a brown derby, below which a big cigar proclaimed his prosperity. From one hand hung a red-plushlined Three weeks later, when the novelty of needling the natives had lost its flavor, Jack was away again. This time it was as musical director for “Uncle Josh Sprucesby,”’ a post for which he Spick and Spangled Four years after the minstrel boy to the musical wars had gone, his alto horn beside him, along with his trusty fiddle, he found himself with the Primrose Minstrels of song and story. This is a section of a photo taken in 1909 outside the Whitney Theatre, ;Ann Arbor, Michigan, when the company had ended its street parade and was about to begin its concert. The musical units of such shows had both band and orchestra leaders. the former leading the street parade made up of wind instrument players and the latter conducting the pit orchestra which accompanied the performance. The latter distinction belonged to Jack Arthur who, however, took his place in the street band. Arthur is shown in the inset, he having appeared in the photo (too large to reproduce here in its entirety) on the other side of George Primrose, the man in the derby hat, impresario collar and noose-like tie on the extreme right. double fiddle case costing $40, the first and only one in Toronto. His manner, translated into words, would have been “Cheer me, boys, cheer me!’’ “And get this,” he reminisced like a man who knows how to laugh at himself and has done it often, “in my pocket was my entire bankroll, which I yanked out eyery chance I got. It was $300—all in one dollar bills except for a twenty on the outside. I made sure I saved that money because I thought a lot about impressing the locals. What a ham! I three-sheeted every musician in town.” had been signed by Hanks & Frazee on the recommendation of Eisenbarth. They had five companies on the road, each of which contained a scene now a classic of show business—the hero tied to the sawmill and saved in the nick ’o time. Not until 1907 did he really see the continent. That year he was orchestra leader—‘professor,”’ such were addressed with respectful jocularity by the actors—for “Along the Kennebec,” which travelled and played along the Northern Pacific route to California and returned via _ the Southern Pacific. It played one Page 23 night stands, with Jack doing his violin solo between acts, an interlude demanded of him by every prospective employer. Then back home from June to Christmas, during which time he was occupied in various ways musically. By day he plugged Shapiro-Bernstein music in Simpson’s department store for eight dollars weekly, the major benefits deriving from the dance engagements which originated through the job. The road called again, this time for a year as leader with the forever-famed George Primrose Minstrels as musical director, an enviable niche in the eyes of his fellows of the waving arm. He had reached an understanding about a joint future with a young lady named Coral McFarland, an agreement without endorsement by her parents, who did not favor their daughter sharing the uncertain existence of a trouper. Nevertheless they planned to marry when the show played Toronto and did with parental blessing based on a promise of more stationary habits on the groom’s part. Primrose presented them with a silver tea service in behalf of himself and the company and the orchestra played the leader home from the theatre to the east end of the city. Coral, ill for several years, passed away in what should have been the prime of her life. Their only child, Helen, is today the wife of. Billy McLintock. The show closed in Atlanta for the season and Primrose organized a troupe of 20 to play in and around New York for six weeks in situations booked or controlled by the William Morris office, then rising to dominance in the field. In New York Jack was just another musician but that in no way diminished the thrill of the big time. They played in the Sophie Tucker and Joe Welch. The latter was appearing in his famous skit, “Ellis Island.” It was 1909 and quite a year, for Peary beat Cook to the North Pole, a victory still disputed by historians; Carl Laemmle made “Hiawatha,” his first production in the war against the patent combine; the first film color process, Kinemacolor, was demonstrated in London by Smith and Urban; and the Chicago Tribune denounced movies as a corrupter of youth. Jack Arthur’s Broadway neighbors were Forbes Robertson, Yvette Guilbert, Texas Guinan, Lillian Russell, Nora Bayes, Eva Tanguay and Webber & Fields, among others. Their fans were looking at “The Passing of the Third Floor Back” and “The Wizard of Oz’’ among the plays that were challenging posterity, and like as not whistling “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” “Put On Your Old Gray Bonnet” and “Has Anyone Here Seen Kelly?” (Continued on Page 26)