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4 a 11 KARST'S SUNDA i AMERICAN, ATLANTA, GA., SI’NDAY. MAY 2f>, 191J The Plaint of the Property Man a By Glenn Smith, of the Forsyth Theater General Handy Man and ‘Goat’ at the Vaudeville House Tells Some of the Sorrows of the ‘Props. ’ He Does It in Both Verse and Prose. I've been a policeman and bellhop I've been a lady's maid. I've played the ice man and the manicure gtr I've led a pirate’s raid. I make the storm and the thunder, I make the birdies sing, I trave my hand and the snow Jails, I can do 'most anything. I've worn tights and a mother hub bard, I'trorn a flunky'$ coat, Because, you see. I’m the property man. And everybody’s goat. N O other human being, probably, has as many experiences as the property man of a vaudeville theater. No other man must possess a talent so versatile. Glenn Smith, now for * instance, has done more things than Theodore Roosevelt. His work demands that he “rape” for the actors, and in so doing fill every role imaginable. He must be policeman, fireman, animal trainer, nurse-girl,_ piano-mover, in fact, everything. He must supply the properties-—that is, the material and set ting for the acts—it makes no difference what, is required. Naturally, many funny things happen to the property man or come under his observation. Glenn Smith is chock- full of stories. “A million things happen to the property man,” he said. “They’re funny, I reckon, to anybody else, but sometimes they’re mighty sorious to me. Listen I” And here are some of the things he told. To the property man himself, his life most, be as full of joy as an undertaker’s. » . • T HE big day is on Monday, when the week’s show first comes on. My, but it’s strenuous. You just ought to have been here last Monday, when I was bitten by the dog in the animal act, cussed by the owner of the act because 1 shut flic dog in the collar, sent out to get the most impossible list of properties that you ever heard of for the whole Rhow, and then given a dozen jobs. Just as I had turned around twice that morning, to sort of get my bearing, one actor came to me. “I want you to play a waiter for me,” says he. That was easy, and I promised. Half a minute later came in the next Act. “Say,” he said, “you gutter do a dance with my wife at the finish of my first song.” T looked at him. *‘For the love of monkeys,” I said, “I’m no Eva Tan- guay.” “I know you ain’t,” he said. “The bummer the dance, the better for the act,. That’s why I want you.” Now what d’you think about that? That’s adding insult to injury, but I'm used to that, being just a property man. Then the next act came along. “Say, Props,” said he to me, “when 1 drop this book, you make a noise like a baby, see.” And then came some more. That ’s my job. • • • S OMETIMES l get the cues mixed up. How can a fellow help it, when he’s got to watch the stage and the prop erty, and then play like he was a $1,000 a week actor all at the same time. The other night, for instance, I went wrong. It was all fixed for me to ring the telephone bell when the lights went, out. But my hdad wasn’t working that night. When the lights went out, I slid up to the door. Inside, the man was sitting by the fireplace, all tragic like. The stage was dark. The audience was looking for something startling to happen. The telephone, as I remember, was to tell him that his wife and seven children were dying. But I came on, all mixed up, and knocked at the door. “Ice,” I hollered. I thought it was the next act, when I was to be the iVe man. I hate to think now what happened then. • • • W E’VE got to get the props. Lots of things the actors don’t carry with them, and it's up to us to find them somewhere. Gas ranges, for instance, or flower pots. Some of them make out lists of what they want, early Monday of the week they are on, and send us out to get the things. And we have got to get them, because the act depends on it. If the list gets lost, Lord, I’d hate to think about that. Like the baby carriage I had to get once. Ilow I came to overlook that baby carriage I don't know even yet.. But the time came for the Monday afternoon show, qnd no baby car riage. The actors were dressed and ready for their cue. They were third on the bill. The second act was almost over when Number Three begins to holler for her baby buggy. And there we were, nothing doing. But a baby carriage had to be got, and got quick, and there was nothing to do but to go out and get one. Which I did. As luck would have it, a very black negro girl was wheel ing a kid along the street near the stage entrance. The kid napers of Charley Ross didn’t have a thing on me when it came to quick work. The kid was sitting on the sidewalk in two seconds, and the negro girl was petrified with a scare that nearly turned her white. But I had the baby carriage, and was inside the house with it before she could yell. I heard her yelling later, and saw the prison bars mighty plain. But when the aet was over, I sneaked the earriage out on the street again, and nothing else ever happened. But 1 wonder sometimes if she ever found the buggy, and what she did, anyhow. * Talk about your highway robbers. One aet called for a property man to be a nurse girl. I went on with a long wrapper. In between my appearance as a nurse girl and the next act, I had to get_busy with some stuff behind the scenes, and I forgot all about the wrapper. The next aet I had to work in, too, and I had to come on as a policeman. With the wrapper still on, I put on the policeman’s coat, and rushed in to arrest the villain. It came near breaking up the act. That was just like the time when I had to work in two acts right together. In one there was a piano, and in the other a garden bench. I got mixed up, and rolled out the garden bench for the piano act. The piano player was a stiff guy, without any sense of humor, and I thought he was going to break ray neck. • • • O NCE I was playing a burglar. According to the business, I was to come iu through the window with a mask on, and the actor would hit me in the head with a fake billy. It was fun, till something happened. Just before the show one evening, the billy got lost, and the actor forgot to tell me about it. Just when his cue was called, he looked around and the only thing he found was a short piece of broom handle. After :r ..* - ow. I refused to be a burglar any more. Can you blame me! • • • f I 'HEY ill for crazy things sometimes. One aet asked for -*- two ve babies and one stuffed eat. You see, we got to get the very things they want. But I was up against it on this deal Two live babies and a stuffed oat. It sort of made me sore. He was a nervous sort of guv, was this act, and he kept on worrying me about his property. I told him everything would be all right. And whei^it came time for his act that night he called me. “Did you get my stuff?” he asked. “Sure," I said, and handed him two stuffed babies and a live cat. But I leave it to the crowd, wasn’t that the next best thing? • • * O NE fellow wanted two pairs of old pants and a high wheeled bicycle. I gave him the bicycle, all right, and one pair of old pants. “Where’s the other pair of pants,” he yelled. He had some temper. “Well, I tell you,” I said to him, “If I give you the only other pair of old pants in the shop they won’t let me work on the stage.” • • • A ND some of them don’t know anything. Of course, lots of actors, especially vaudeville actors, are wise, and men of the world, and all that. Some of them have college educations and money. Most of them are refined and inter esting. But now and then just a plain boob gets by. Listen. The other week one act called for a sure-fire pistol. I shot the pistol all right at the proper time, and it sounded like a cannon there in the wings. “Gee,” said the man after the act, “that pistol made a heap of noise. What size gun is that?” “It’s a thirty-eight,” I told him. “I know,” he said, “but what size cartridge do you shoot in it.” • . . O NE act when we were up at the Grand called for a can of beer each show. It came all right. But one night a girl who was in another act, waiting behind the stage for her cue, spied the beer and drank it. I didn’t have time to get any more, and I was up against it. So I made up some soap suds in a can of water and sent word to the man in the act to look out for it. Just so it looked like beer, I thought it wouldn’t make any difference. But the message I sent him was never delivered, and the poor fellow drank the warm water and suds. Say, he was some sick. When he sort of recovered, he came to the man agement with a kick, and wouldn’t let me work with him any more that week. It wasn’t my fault, but I don’t much blame him. * * * S O the life of the property man in a vaudeville house, you see, is just one doggoned thing after another. It’s mighty interesting at that, though, but not so funny to poor old Props as to the man who hears about it. I’ve been everything from an ice man to an animal train er, including almost every kind of woman. I’ve made every kind of noise from a baby’s yelp to the crack of doom. So has every other vaudeville Props. It’s all in the game. Kinks in Human Nature as the Chauffeur Sees Them Queer and Humorous Happenings in the Day’s Work of the Man Who Personifies the Spirit of the Age. { ( ry-'t Hi: chauffeur person I spirit of the age," r * I'. M. Knight, the \\ ith visions of murder and sudden death, the chauffeur jumped out of his bed and beat it for a doctor. He in curred the wrath of several physi cians before he finally enlisted the services of one. Piling the saw bones into the car. the driver broke all speed limits to get to the address. At the door of the house the man met him, wearing a bath robe. He was smiling. "That's all right, doc.” he said. “Sorry I troubled you. Hut every thing’s all fixed now. Snook urns swal lowed a> button, but he’s coughed it up. My wife and 1 were right scared at first.” And he held up a little fuzzy poo dle dog. Right then it was proved that a chauffeur has a better work ing vocabulary than a physician. eur likes to remark All that comes under the head of In another case M. M Milton, one »///•.’ chauffeur personifies tin emarked the genial proprietor of the Capital City Auto Livery "More than anybody else he typifies the general desire to get from one place to another in a hurry. He stands for the energy of the cen tury, and for that reason is the big gest part of his life. He drives men and women to weddings, to death beds, to births, but more particularly, to their pleasures. "Is it any wonder that the chauf feur IS wiser in human nature than most peoplef Any one of them could write a book of his adventures. You just ought to hear the stories my men bring hark to me." Here, as he Udd them, are some: By F. M. KNIGHT. On a delightful road in the Buek- head section, a chauffeur was driving a merr> party of men and women. They were having the time of their lives. As they went along, they ob served ahead a car that was in trou ble. The chauffeur was out tinkering about the mechanism, and ir« the back seat were a man and a woman. As the car of the joy riders came near, the woman and man in the other automobile appeared a little nervous. They spoke to the chau- feur, but he shook his head, evi dently telling them that he couldn't ^e it g«>. Thru the joy riders’ car near. here was - • • • • ■? :i:i:l- mvsterious out the couple in the broken car. The woman put her hands up to her face, and the man slid down in the body of the car as the other au tomobile drew near. The Joy riders, however, had no desire to penetrate their little secret, and thought noth ing of the matter. But Just as they came abreast of the car of the couple, their own car gave a crunch and a jerk, and stopped altogether, two feet from the other machine. The joy riders looked at the woman who kept her face covered. They looked at the man curled up In the bottom. They looked at their own * ar that refused to budge. And they began to laugh. The louder they laughed, the more the woman in the next car began to cry. and the man to swear. And for twenty minutes the odd party continued, until the chauffeur of the joy riders adjusted hi? machine, and moved away leav ing the identity of the couple still veiled in mystery. “I wonder whose wife she was and whose husband he was? \ my chauf- pleasure. But then there are other sides. Hike once a man got my chauffeur up about 3 o’clock in the morning, with a hurry call. “Get a doctor." he said, frenzied- ly, “and come to ,** giving an address, “quick." day occurrences, almost, in a chauf feur's line of work. But this one had a few unusual features. Milton took the couple from a hotel in tow r n and started toward Fayette ville, about 9 o’clock at night. 'Way out in the country, the fly w’heel came off and flew through the radia tor. The road was dark, the pl&ce was lonely, and the elopers were ner vous. The girl was getting ready to back out. anyway. Milton had to set out to find a house of some kind. He finally found the house of a farmer, and after fighting off the dogs and daring a shotgun or tw r o, he succeeded in arousing the inmates. An old farmer came to the door. Milton explained his plight. The young couple trailed along about that time. “It looks like we're fixed here for all night.” the chauffeur tofd them. The bride-to-be began to cry. She proclaimed to th^ w*orld that they were not married yet. "Sorry." said the driver, “unless you want to walk it.” Then an idea seized him. He searched the barn over, and found a section of lead pipe. Then he took the farmer’s shovel, and made a melting pot of it. In the shovel he put the pipe, stuck the whole thing over a fire, and soon had the lead melted. All the time he was working, the girl was crying. Then the driver’s goat was gone. "You all make me tired,” he said to the elopers. Then he called to the farmer. , “Say, bo.” he asked, "is there a justice of the peace around here any where?” “Sure, neighbor,” called the farmer from his bedroom. "I’m one. What do you want?" Milton turned to the elopers in disgust. "Now’ why in the world didn't you think of that before?” he asked them. “You folks want a chauffeur to do all your thinking for you.” Then he yelled to the farmer. “Come on out and marry a cou ple.” The old man came in his costume de rigueur. The knot was tied out in the barn. Milton didn’t even stop work for the occasion. They wanted him to, but he was busy soldering the lead pipe on the radiator, to mend the hole. “Nix,” he said to the Invitation, “no time for such foolishness. You all make me tired ” • * » Tfce funny things are those n chauf- feur sees when he is blazing a new trail through a country where automobiles are not often seen. Men, women, and animals are all struck dumb with surprise f was driving through tto* Tennessee mountain sec tion not long ago A cmzy pig dodged across the road and then, in the mid dle. » hanged his mind, and turned to run back. Me stopped right In the middle of the road The machine was going at a good gait, and didn’t even slow up. It passed over the pig, without touching him. After It paused, I looked back. There was the pig, standing as if petrefled. He hadn’t winked an eye, 1 don't think. A hundred yards far ther, I looked again. There was the pig. I don’t believe a single bristle had wiggled. A half mile farther on I looked back. The pig stood in the middle of the road. And as far as I could see, the dumed animal w r as still there. I w r onder if he has got over the surprise yet? A little farther on we overtook a buggy to which a mule was hitched, and in w’hich a woman was sitting. As the automobile came to the bug gy, the mule Jumped, and took a fence at a single jump, leaving the buggy behind. The woman fell out in the road, and “lit a-running.” For half a mile down the road she ran, not once turning to look back, or to glance one way or the other. Then she ducked in the woods, and we didn't see her any more. • • • Sometimes the folks from the country come in and take a ride about town in the cars. There was a cou ple the other day, an old man and woman. They thought they were in heaven, riding around, leaning back in the seats, and enjoying every step of the way. They held a whispered conversation between them when they got back, and had stepped out of the car. Then they turned to the chauffeur. "How much does a automobile like this here cost?” asked the man. “This little car?” said the chauffeur. “Oh. about $1,500.” The old man looked at the old wo man. “Mary,” he said, “1 guess I better go out to the yards and buy that mule.” • * * And that’s the way it goes. see all the things—joy and sorrow, life and death and disappointments. The chauffeur, as I said before, is the spirit of the age. and knows its men and women—sometimes better than they know themselves. of the men here, caught a‘hurry call, just like that. He grabbed a doctor, and ran to the house from which the call came. There he found the man of the house walking the front porch ner vously chewing a cigar. Something was about to happen within the house, and it was plain w r hat that something was. The doctor went in. leaving the anxious man on the porch. Then the doctor came back in a minute, and called the driver. Several minutes passed and Milton came back out to the man on the front porch. "It's twins.” he informed the man. The man of the bouse looked at film stupidly. Then he grew red in the face. “Get t* h—1 out o’ here.” he yelled, grabbing a chair. And that w r as all the thanks the chauffeur ever got for the glad tid ings. Milton helped at a wedding once, also. That was nothing, though, be cause runaway weddings are every-