The play? Why there was no play. But I was not bothered by a little detail like that, and I explained that Hanako would offer a wonderful play, one that was easy to understand whether you knew Japanese or not.
Then I signed a contract for ten performances on trial. A contract? Yes, it was a contract. And I had not secured my actors yet. And I had no play yet. I had, altogether, Hanako, her maid and a young Japanese actor. I was not discouraged, however. I undertook to find another actor. I secured one in London, thanks to an agent. Then I went to work to construct a play for four characters. There were two major roles and two supernumeraries. The result of my efforts was “The Martyr.”
A great difficulty now arose. The question came up of procuring wigs, shoes, costumes and various accessories. But here again luck helped me out. They made a very successful first appearance at the Théâtre Moderne in the Boulevard des Italiens. The play was given thirty presentations instead of ten and twice a day, at a matinee and in the evening. Presently the manager said to me:
“If your actors have another play as good as that one I would keep them a month longer.”
Naturally I declared they had another play, a better one than the first, and I signed a new contract.
New stage settings, new costumes and new accessories were necessitated. The result was a new tragedy called “A Drama at Yoshiwara.”
While the new play was running the manager of the Palais des Beaux-Arts at Monte Carlo made a very important offer for my Japanese, for three performances. I accepted. The troupe left for Monaco, where they gave twelve performances instead of three. In the meantime a small theatre, that of the Musée Grevin, proposed to engage my Nipponese for a month in a new play which was to be a comedy. To suit the purposes of this theatre we wrote “The Japanese Doll.” Next the Little Palace offered a month’s engagement for a play that was to be a tragi-comedy. There my Japanese played the “Little Japanese Girl.” Finally they went to the Treteau Royal, where Mr. Daly engaged them for their six plays, a circumstance that compelled me to increase their repertoire by three new pieces, “The Political Spy,” “The Japanese Ophelia,” and “A Japanese Tea House.”
Hanako finally began a tour of Switzerland with the company. Mr. Daly suddenly wanted Hanako to appear in New York, and to break off this trip I needed more imagination and took more trouble than in writing a dozen plays. Then I was obliged, still on Mr. Daly’s account, to break an agreement for a tour in France.
Such is the history of my relations with Hanako, the great little actress from Japan. As it is always fitting that a story of this kind shall end with a wedding, I may say that, conforming to the tradition, the actor Sato, whom I sent to release Hanako at Antwerp, is now the husband of the little Japanese doll.