The star's wife turned to me and asked, "What is the matter? Why can't —— do this?"
"It is very simple, my dear friend," I replied. "He hasn't solved the problem. He has failed to change his method."
THE SKATING RINK
It was some time after, I forget the exact date, that I became associated with the late Frank Sanger in the production of a farcical comedy, called "The Skating Rink." We surrounded ourselves with a capable company, including Henry Donnelly, Fanny Rice, James Ratcliff, the Fletchers, a trio of trick skaters, Major Newall and others.
We opened in Buffalo (where I had the misfortune to meet the second lady who bore my name).
We opened to a packed house and when the curtain rang down I credited myself with another failure. I was amazed to ascertain the next morning that I had made another "artistic success." But this time the house sold out for that evening—also. I was far from being satisfied, but I was convinced that if the public fancied the material offered at our opening I could improve the entertainment very much. I so informed Sanger, suggesting that he book us for four weeks at Hooley's. I guaranteed to give him an entirely new and better interpretation of "The Skating Rink" for Chicago. He acquiesced and started the next day for New York.