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Show "JOHNNY." As Alan Dale said in the New York American the day after "When Johnny Comes Marching Home' 'was first produced at the New York theater, "the success of the comic opera was not a matter of opinion. It was a most emphatic fact." "It is a comic opera with a strong, well-defined military theme, running through both the book and the music, and of the period of a generation ago, when the one distinctive form of feminine Bertha Darel in "When Johny Comes Marching Home." fashion was the enormous crinoline hoop-skirt. At frequent intervals through the entire opera these hoop-skirts are in evidence, and the girls who wear them are pretty. The exhilerating novelty of seeing a comic opera with chorus girls who do. not year tights seems to have been most welcome. Never again should the dainty girl be subjected to the crude and the ugly barbarity of tights, now that it has been proven beyond the per-adventure of a doubt that legs do. not .count." The chorus ' maiden has taken on a new significance, . a new charm. She dresses the stage. She is om importance. import-ance. And in "When Johnning Comes Marching Home" she is ehtrancingly picturesque. There is a waltz in the first act, when the stage is filled with the whirling skirts of these pretty maidens that seemed to delight he audience and aroused a tremendous enthusiasm for a novelty that is cleanly and free from the vulgarity of the average musical show. Stanislaus Stange wrote the book and Julian Edwards the music. . They are the authors of "Dolly Varden," the successful comic opera. The music is full of the early Sullivan character, jingly, jk- jovial and full of cute phrases. It is to be pre- ff sented by a large company in which it is said the 1 chorus thoroughly supports the work of the prin-. jj cipals. "Johnny" wil lbe presented by the W. T. Carle-ton Carle-ton Opera Company at the Salt Lake theater for four performances, beginning next Thursday. , t 5 5 Salt Lake has been honored by the presence of a very distinguished visitor during the week. The name, Eddie Cooke, ahead of "Ben Hur," the play that put Palestine on the map, Mr. Cook's follow will be here with Alphonz Ethier as Ben, for a whole week around Christmas time. He has been the guest of The Family Club during his stay in this city, at his expense, concluding con-cluding his series of entertainments on Thursday evening after the Ade affair. Another nice Indian, who spent Thanksgiving and several kopeks in our city during the week is on the bill under the stage name of R. W. Priest. This name was taken inadvertantly before realizing real-izing how much trouble he might come in contact with on account of it, but he is safely launched on his way to Los Angeles, having taken another train last evening. & The story about the theatrical company in hard luck driving int( town on top of a stage cbach and one of the actors admirng the beauti ful sunset until the driver informs him that the glorious light he sees is the reflection from the burning "opery house" where the company expected ex-pected to play, reminds Nat M. Wills of a theater fire that he once witnessed. "The bass violin playef," said the star, of "The Duke of Duluth," "was stopping at the same hotel and we were both in the office when a small boy thrust his head in the door and shouted, 'The ' opery house is on fire.' "'Mine Gott!' shrieked the musician, a short, fat and excitable German, 'mine fiddle!' and he rushed madly for the theater. Reaching there, he hurried through the stage door and into the orchestra pit. The theater was a mass of flames in the rigging aloft, but the beloved fiddle was still safe. Its owner siezed it and started to mmmmmmiimmmm El M make his escape the way he came. Too latel the stage itself was now a roaring furnace! The German Ger-man staggered to a window that opened on the street and raised it. I was standing outside with the crowd. '"Quick. Nat!' he gasped; take de fiddle!' and he thrust the neck through the window. The body of the violin was too large and it stuck fast. A dozen willing hands siezed it; there was a sound of splintering wood and a wail from the German. 'Mine Gott! Don't break it I' and we all fell backwards with only the neck in our grasp ! We were forced to reach in and drag that crazy German away from the remainder of his ' beloved instrument; and with the broken neck in his arms and the tears rolling down his blistered cheeks he turned to me and demanded: " 'Is dot de way to save a man's fiddle?' '"Fiddle be hanged! You're lucky to escape with; your life!' '"Yah! but vot's de use?'" |