"Mew Chapter," he murmured.
It was revolting. That it should be Plock of all others!
We did the "Band of Brothers" together—my oath compelled it—but I have never voiced its loving sentiments so half-heartedly.
Quiet fell at last. So did most of my companions. One by one they toppled over. Whinney was the last to go. It is said that the loss of one function strengthens another and I suppose that the absence of eyesight gave him staying power. But he finally succumbed, smiling happily and crooning to himself—"I don't no' whish is, m' I blin'-drunk or drunk-blin'"; and he was gone.
My last memory is of Frissell saying "my next imitation" and then playing "taps" on a mouth organ. I knew the impossibility of competing with a parlor entertainer. Nothing will quiet such chaps but a dead audience. So I rolled over, and slept the sleep of a tired but happy explorer.
What awakened me I cannot say, but I am sure that it was something unusual, for my awakening was not gradual or difficult. It was the same quick instant leap to consciousness as that which rouses the suburban wife when she leans across the interim between the twin beds and whispers tensely to her husband, "Horace, someone is trying to get into the dining-room window!"
SOMETHING NEW IN DRAMATICS
A happy thought in the formation of the personnel of the Expedition was the inclusion of Frissell, the professional entertainer, who is here shown playing a leading part in the amateur theatricals which it was his delight to organize. The scene chosen for illustration is the famous shipping episode from "The Taming of the Shrew." Reginald Swank, who is no mean dramatic critic, tells us that Frissell's "Petruchio" was a spirited performance, while Snak's "Katharine" rivalled Ada Rehan at her best. The nautical background added a novel touch to the somewhat hackneyed vehicle and it is safe to say that Shakespeare is permanently established among the Klinka and Kryptok tribes.
Not content with the success of this production, Frissell plans to bring to Broadway a newly organized company, "The Polar Players." They will appear in repertoire while the B and C companies tour the provinces. The Winter Garden has already been engaged for the venture, Al Jolson obligingly shifting to the Metropolitan Opera House. Tickets for the première of this interesting novelty, which is set for November 1st, may be had by application to any of the well known speculators. Mr. Frissell has already shown photographs of some of his best scenes to prominent professional critics. A few sample opinions may be of interest.
George Jean Nathan: "Foreign and therefore good."
Heywood Broun: "Lacking in background; we like it."
Al Woods: "Niftik."
Dorothy Parker: "I hate actors, but these people are different."
Frederick O'Brien: "Taupo aloha che."
The Literary Digest: "Better than the average and more average than the best."
David Belasco: "All to the spot-light."
Bernard Shaw: "They go further back than Methusaleh."
