“The Fascinating Mr. Vanderveldt,” a comedy in four acts, is a skit upon a phase of Society—with a big S, when so many members of the peerage are concerned. The motive of this smartly written play is that of an adventurer, who in order to force a lady into marriage endeavours to compromise her by compelling her to pass, unchaperoned, a night at a village inn, at which he also is staying. You can all take your choice about the play. If you are serious you may regard it as a melodrama of the motor-car; if you are flippant you may laugh at the farce of the sparking-plug; but however you take it, you must regard yourselves and the play as very chic and up to date, and then everybody will be pleased. Mr. Vanderveldt is labelled “fascinating” in the promiscuous fashion that some eggs are labelled “new laid,” perhaps with just as slight veracity, and in this matter much depends upon faith. To some of us he appears to be a colossal cad, but to the ladies in the play he is made to appear irresistible, although even to some of them, may be, highly ridiculous.
There are a couple of dull old gentlemen suing the Lady Clarice for her hand, and there is a very proper colonel who has the cheek to give her good advice, but not the nerve to keep on asking her to marry him, and there is the fascinator who can do more with a lady in ten minutes than many a man in a lifetime. And greatest and most novel creation of the author’s brain, we have the Deus ex machinâ in the proper person of the clergyman who drives the motor and saves the reputation of the light-hearted lady, by his ready adaptation of the sparking-plug. And so the alleged fascinator is left in the parlour of “The Cow and Calf Inn” to the novel experience of drinking a bottle of champagne to his own solitary cheek, and the tongues of the gossips are silenced, and there is a prospect of wedding bells in honour of the alliance of the coldblooded colonel with the laughing Lady Clarice.
This same Lady Clarice is played by Miss Violet Vanbrugh, and that, to our mind, is the best of the play, for she gives a very charming rendering of what cannot be regarded as a very great part.
Of so-called musical plays there are just now a large variety in London, no less than eight West End theatres being devoted to that form of entertainment. Mr. George Edwardes has in “The Little Michus” at Daly’s Theatre what appears to be a perennial success, and certainly the charm of Miss Denise Orme, the music of Messager, and the mirth-compelling humour of Mr. George Graves, with a fleeting appearance of the great Genée, combine to provide a delightful evening’s amusement. At the Prince of Wales’ Theatre “The Little Cherub” has grown into “A Girl on the Stage,” with much the same company as before, including those very funny men, Messrs. Willie Edouin and W. H. Berry. Miss Ruth Vincent is a valuable recruit with her charming voice, and Miss Zena Dare and Miss Gabrielle Ray are as beautiful as ever.
Wyndham’s Theatre now finds itself the home of “The Girl behind the Counter,” a musical comedy by Leedham Bantock and Arthur Anderson, with music by Howard Talbot. It affords us an opportunity of welcoming back to the stage that popular singer, Mr. Hayden Coffin, who is great in the part of a millionaire miner just returned to London society in full mining kit, and an imperial arm tattooed with the Union Jack. He is supported by Mr. J. F. McArdle, who supplies most of the comic element in a manner pleasantly suggestive of Mr. George Graves. Mr. Horace Mills as an office boy apparently has based his methods upon those of Mr. Edmund Payne, and there is a family likeness between the work of Mr. Laurence Grossmith and his brother Mr. George Grossmith, junior. Moreover, Mr. Hayden Coffin always seems to us to be imitating himself, so that a mind keen upon imitations can revel in its fancy at Wyndham’s Theatre just now, although about the best mimic of them all, Miss Marie Dainton, who brightens the caste, did not, when we saw the piece, give any of her celebrated imitations. Miss Isabel Jay sings and masquerades charmingly as the girl behind the counter, and Miss Coralie Blythe is once more at her best in a soubrette part. There are several good musical numbers and some amusing lines, and altogether we can recommend “The Girl behind the Counter” as a capital entertainment.
Another amusing entertainment is “The Dairymaids” at the Apollo Theatre, with those charming ladies, Miss Carrie Moore and Miss Agnes Fraser, disguised first as dairymaids and then as athletes. They have a half-sister in Miss Florence Smithson, and as Miss Phyllis Broughton and Miss Gracie Leigh are also in the caste, it will be seen that there is no lack of fair ladies in “The Dairymaids.” Mr. Walter Passmore supplies some fun, although, personally, we dislike his dressing up as a woman; but the hit of the evening was made by Mr. Dan Rolyat, who, we believe, is a new-comer to London. As a comic sailor-man he at once won the hearts of his audience by his funny methods and agile clowning, and probably by this time his part has been expanded to allow him better opportunities than he at first enjoyed.
The last scene of the play takes place in a ladies’ gymnasium, which is a clever set, and bids fair to make “The Sandow Girl” very popular.
Sporting Intelligence.
[During April-May, 1906.]
The international match for the tennis championship of the world (professional) and £250 a side was played at Prince’s Tennis Club at Brighton on April 22nd, 25th, and 28th. The match was between C. Fairs (champion), and Ferdinand Garcin (challenger). The conditions of the match were the best of thirteen sets, played on three separate days, four sets to be played each day. The match was exceedingly well fought, but terminated in a victory to Fairs by 7 sets to 4, 56 games to 47, 373 strokes to 332.