Watch Yourself Go By

by Al. G. Field

Alfred was engaged by Matt Canning, the manager of the Pittsburgh Opera House. In those days all first class theatres employed a stock company; the stars traveled alone, or at least with only a stage manager. The manuscript of their plays, the scene and property plots were sent in advance. The company studied their parts until the arrival of the star when a grand rehearsal was gone through with. This was a strenuous day's work, particularly if the star was a stickler.

Booth, Barrett, McCullough, Edwin Adams, Joe Jefferson, Jane Coombs and many other noted stars appeared at the Pittsburgh Opera House and Alfred had the honor of supporting all of them, by assisting in moving bureaus, dressing cases, center tables, cooking stoves, bedsteads, bar fixtures and other properties required in the plays, up and down stairs. However, parts, and minor roles, were entrusted to Alfred. If the stock system had continued it would be greatly to the advantage of the dramatic stage of today. It made the actor, it proved the actor. He remained in the ranks alone on his ability, impersonating many characters in one season. His art broadened.

Actors do not compare with those of the olden days. This is true. We may have a few actors as able as any that ever lived but the dramatic profession in general has deteriorated since the combination system superceded the stock company.

The stage has advanced in the authorship of plays and their production, not in their rendition. The actors of today are not the students or workers as were those of the earlier days, neither have they the opportunities.

Alfred was entrusted with many roles not congenial to him; in those he generally failed. In a society drama, appearing in evening dress, a turn-down collar, a large red and white flowing tie, a huge minstrel watch chain attached to his vest, he was reprimanded by Jane Coombs, the star, in the presence of the company.

Another time he led a Roman mob costumed as a Quaker. John McCullough laughed over this afterwards, but at the time, what he said cannot be printed. When Joseph Jefferson appeared as Rip Van Winkle, in addition to impersonating one of the villagers, Alfred was entrusted with the task of securing children to take part in the play. The stage manager advised the bashful children to make merry with Rip; that he was very fond of children and would enjoy their familiarity. Whether it was the shaggy beard or the assumed intoxication of Rip, a child refused to clamber up on Rip's back. The stage was waiting; that the scene should not be marred, seventeen year old Alfred attempted to perch himself on Rip's back. It was not the Jefferson of later days but the Jefferson of middle manhood. Alfred was dropped to the floor amid laughter that the scene never evoked previously. Instead of the great actor being peeved, he kindly inquired of Alfred if the fall had hurt him. As a matter of fact Alfred purposely made the fall awkward.

Dick Cannon had a number of young friends—Billy Conard, Clarke Winnett, Charley Smith, Billy Kane and Alfred. Dick had a large luxuriously furnished room in the hotel. One evening each week he set apart to entertain his young friends. To pass the time away Dick introduced a game he had played a few times while tending lock at Rice's Landing. It was a Greene County game, new to Fort Duquesne but universally popular in Pittsburgh since. The game was known as "Draw Poker" in Greene County.

After several lessons, in which Dick's courtesy and unusual interest in his young friends was evidenced at the end of every deal, as Dick raked in the pot with the air and manner of a learned professor of a college, he explained to each player who had lost—and his lecture always embraced the entire class, for when the pot justified it, they all lost—just how they should have played their hand to win. "It's just as important to learn how to lay 'em down as it is to play 'em up," was his advice.

Alfred had failed, notwithstanding Dick's teachings, to learn even the rudiments of the game, so he sought the dictionary. He had become convinced that a person to be proficient should, as Dick advised in one of his lectures, not only study the game but human nature as well. Therefore, Alfred decided to start right. He found the word "draw" signified "to drag, to entice, to delineate, to take out, to inhale, to extend." The word "poker" signified any frightful object, a "spook."