Frank Merriwell's New Comedian; Or, The Rise of a Star

by Burt L. Standish

“The pathos strikes the right chord, and the strongest situations and climaxes are stirring enough to thrill the most sluggish blood. In some respects the story of the play is rather conventional, but it is handled in a manner that makes it seem almost new. Through the four acts Dick Trueheart, the hero, is pursued by his enemies, Carius Dubad, and his, worthy son, Spike, and on various occasions they succeed in making things extremely unpleasant for the popular young athlete.

“Through two acts the villains pursue the hero, keeping the audience on the qui vive.

“The climax of the third act was the great sensational feature of the play. In this act Dick escapes from his enemies and all sorts of crafty snares, and is barely in time to take his place in the Yale boat, which is to race against Harvard and Cornell. Carius Dubad has appeared on the scene, and, at the last moment, in order to break Dick’s spirit, he reveals that Dick’s guardian has squandered his fortune, so that the hero is penniless and will be forced to leave college. For all of this revelation, Trueheart enters the boat and aids in winning the race against Harvard and Cornell, greatly to the discomfiture of the villainous father and son, who have bet heavily against Yale. Of course, Mr. Merriwell made Yale win in his play. The mechanism that showed the boat race on the distant river, the moving observation train, the swaying crowds with waving flags, hats, and handkerchiefs, was truly a most wonderful arrangement, and it filled the spectators with admiration and astonishment. A quick ‘dark shift’ followed, and then the boats actually appeared, with Yale the winner, and Trueheart was brought onto the stage in the arms of his admiring fellow collegians, while the curtain descended amid a burst of genuine enthusiastic applause such as is seldom heard in any theater. Mr. Merriwell was called before the curtain, and he made a brief speech, which seemed modest and characteristic of this young actor and playwright, who is certain to follow a brilliant career on the American stage.

“In the final act the hero was in straitened circumstances, but all ends well, with the discomfiture of old Dubad and his worthy son, and the final settlement of all jealousies between the other characters.

“Not only as author of the play, but as the star does Frank Merriwell merit a full meed of credit and praise. Although he is young and impulsive, and his acting might not meet the approval of certain critics, there was a breeziness and freshness about him that captivated and carried the audience. It is said that he has never attended a school of acting, and this may readily be believed, for there is nothing affected, nothing stiff, nothing stilted and mechanical about his work on the stage. In his case, at least, it has been greatly to his advantage not to attend a dramatic school. He is a born actor, and he must work out his own methods without being hampered by convention and instruction from those who believe in doing everything by rule. He is a handsome young man, and his stage presence is both striking and effective. Worthy of note was it that he enunciated every word distinctly and pronounced it correctly, in great contrast to many other stars, who sometimes mangle speech in a most distressing manner. He has a voice that seems in perfect keeping with his splendid figure, being clear as a mellow bell, full of force, and delightful to hear.

“The work of Douglas Dunton as Barry Hattleman was good. Mr. Small, who is a very large man, faithfully portrayed Spruce Downing, the lazy student. Crack Hyerman, the hot-blooded Southerner, as represented by Bartley Hodge, who made the Southerner a thorough fire-eater, who would fight for his ‘honor’ at the drop of the hat. As Reuben Grass, Ephraim Gallup literally convulsed the audience. Without doubt his delineation of the Down-East Yankee was the best ever seen in Denver.

“Miss Cassie Lee played the sweet and winsome Millie Blossom, and her singing and dancing met approval. The Inez Dalton of Miss Stanley was handled with great skill, and she was jealous, passionate, resentful, and loving in turn, and in a manner that seemed true to life. As Nancy Noodle, an old maid in love with Prof. Gash, Miss Agnes Kirk was acceptable.

“And now comes the duty of mentioning a man who was the surprise of the evening. His name was given on the program as William Shakespeare Burns, and, as he represented a burlesque tragedian, it was supposed that the name was assumed. It has been learned, however, that this is the name by which he was known in real life. Mr. Burns first appeared in the second act, and as Edwin Treadwell, the frayed, back-number tragedian, he literally caused many of the audience to choke in the effort to repress their uncontrollable laughter. At the close of the third act, a local theatrical man declared that W. S. Burns far excelled as a comedian anybody he had ever seen essay a similar part. But the sensation came in the fourth act, when the actor started to parody Hamlet’s soliloquy, but seemed to forget himself and the parody together, and swung into the original William Shakespeare. The laughter died out, the audience sat spellbound, scarcely breathing. The eyes of every person were fixed on the actor, who went through the soliloquy to the end, giving it with all the power of a Forrest or a Booth. As the actor retired, the audience awoke, realized it had seen and heard a man who was no clown, but a real tragedian, and the applause was long and loud.

“William Shakespeare Burns did not appear again on the stage of that theater; he will not appear again on any stage. He is dead! But few particulars have been learned about him, but it seems that this was his first attempt to play comedy—and his last. He regarded himself as the equal of any interpreter of Shakespeare, living or dead, but misfortune and his own weakness had never permitted him to rise to the heights to which he aspired. Grim necessity had compelled him to accept Mr. Merriwell’s offer to play in ‘True Blue’ the part of the burlesque tragedian. His heart and soul had rebelled against doing so, and often at rehearsals he had wept with mortification after going through with his part. His body was weakened by privation. He declared last night that his heart was broken. A few minutes after leaving the stage the last time he expired in one of the dressing rooms of the theater. Thus ended a life that might have been a grand success but for the failings of weak human nature.

“Mr. Merriwell will go on the road at once with ‘True Blue.’ He has engaged a competent man to fill the place made vacant by the death of Mr. Burns. His route for some little time is booked, and he leaves Denver to-day for Puelbo, where he opens to-morrow. The play, the star, and the company merit success, and we hope Mr. Merriwell will find it convenient to play a regular engagement in this city before long. It is certain, if he does, he will be greeted by packed houses.”—Denver Herald and Advertiser.