Life — October 28, 1886 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE - THE POINT OF VIEW. SHE. KINDRED spirit thou, dear Tom, Does not the saying run: “Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one?” Since over all my mind and heart Thy loveliness doth reign, Dear Luce, had we “a single thought,” That thought would make you vain ! C. Condé Obear. HE attention of the metropolitan theatre-goer is at pres- ent divided between such distinguished foreigners as Mrs. Langtry, Miss Fortescue, Miss Violet Cameron, and Mr. Wilson Barrett, who are situated in four of the best New York theatres, and are all holding forth at the same time. Dissatisfied with dividing American adulation into four, and taking a quarter apiece, this quadrupled Anglo-Saxon attrac- tion the other afternoon determined to hold a meeting and decide once for all as to who was most justified in coming to America, and who should take the lion’s share of Jonathan’s respect and esteem. A mass meeting of citizens and actors was called, and met in due course in the Morton House, among them being the contestants, Miss Lillian Russell, Miss Maud Granger, Miss Vernona Jarbeau, Henry E. Dixey, Edward E. Rice, Cyrus W. Field, Chauncey M. Depew and J. Edward Simmons. “I move,” said Miss Violet Cameron, with a charmingly naive smile, “that we appoint Mr. Cyrus W. Field referee. You see, I am going to base my claims to distinction on purely aristocratic grounds, as I am sure most of my colleagues intend doing. Now, I am convinced no one is so thoroughly well posted in aristocracy as Mr. Field. I remember having read that in a London penny paper, which I implicitly believe. I hope that Mr. Field will be appointed.” The vote was taken and Mr. Field unanimously elected teferee. The courtly Wall street potentate bowed in a most polished Louis XIV. style, and threw a glance of gratitude to Miss Cameron. “IT accept the position gratefully,” he said. “I flatter myself that I can answer its requirements, for” — with a mod- est little titter — “1 do know something abuut dukes and that kind of thing. I go to the Windsor Hotel every night, scan the register, and send up my card to every aristocrat who arrives. The clerk knows me well, and if there be no peers on hand, he exclaims: ‘Nothing in your way to-night, Mr. Field; a baronet or two, and a little sprinkling of honorables. that’s all.’ I don’t care a fig for baronets,” said Mr. Field with delightful simplicity, “so I don’t go up. Yes, gentle- men.and ladies, I flatter myself I can decide your case.” It was then moved and carried that the evidence of each contestant be heard, separately and deliberately. Mrs. Lang- try was called to the stand and spoke with eloquent fervor. “TI don’t think my claims can be beaten,” she began dif- fidently, “for, as you all know, my precedents are simply overwhelming. Which of my beloved sisters can proudly assert that she has slipped ice down the blue-blooded back of Her Majesty's eldest son? Ladies and gentlemen, not one of them. Yet that astounding feat has been performed by me, and I live to tell the tale and reap the benefits of it. I have been to Victoria’s drawing-rooms, lived in Mayfair, and owed enormous sums—I might almost say that I owe them still, but I hate irrelevancy. To be brief, ladies and gentle- men, it seems to me that when claims to distinction are based upon the heir apparent, they are all-powerful and supreme.” Miss May Fortescue was then called. She tripped lithely to the stand, and casting a glance of spiteful meaning at Mrs. Langtry, turned her flower-face to the referee. “T need say little,” she chirruped scornfully, “when the press of the United Kingdom has been devoted to explaining my case. The Earl of Cairns has been in this country. He is no myth; he could be seen and appreciated. Was £10,000 involved in the ridiculous story of the piece of ice, which my haughty sister has related? I think not, sir. What more need I say? I should damage my case if I were to dwell on my social distinction in London, and how little of the conventional actress there is about me.” Almost before Miss Fortescue had resumed her seat, Miss Violet Cameron had swept magnificently to the witness-stand. She was very much excited, and gesticulated violently. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she exclaimed, “how could you listen to allthis twaddle? Everything that Mrs. Langtry and Miss Fortescue have told you requires substantiation — requires proof. Now, listen to this. I have come to this country with Sir Hugh Cecil Lowther, Earl of Lonsdale. Ladies and gentlemen, I offer Lord Lonsdale in evidence.” This announcement created quite a sensation, but the climax was capped when his lordship walked majestically forward, and with a characteristic “\he! he!” allowed Miss Cameron to put in his buttonhole a. little card marked “Exhibit No. 1.” “TI need say no more,” said Miss Cameron, panting for breath. “I submit my ca8@to the weiner : “Next witness,” called Cyrus W. Field, but the’téne of his voice showed that he was impressed by the corporealness of the last evidence. Wilson Barrett then stepped forward, and with his classical Claudian face a shade paler, faltered: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I-I did n’t know th-that y—you were so fond of d—dukes and |—lords, or I would have b- brought a few. I know a g- g-good m-many, b-but I c-can’t produce them. I relied upon my m-merit, and —— ” “Trifler!” said Mr. Field, furiously. “Quit this. 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