ed by T.
D. Frawley in a deliciously Hibernian way. Poor Bobbie would have had
a fit if he could have seen his nationality juggled with in this
manner. If Mr. Frawley had warbled "The Wearing o' the Green" the
illusion would have been complete. Mr. Andrew Mack could have done
nothing better--for Ireland.

"The Lady Shore" was the title of Miss Virginia Harned's massive
production at the Hudson Theater. Jane Shore was dragged, willy-nilly,
from history almost as though she were the heroine of a so-called
popular novel, and two ladies, Mrs. Vance Thompson and Lena R. Smith,
propelled her toward 1905. While, on moral grounds, we may inveigh
against the courtesan, when we meet her in everyday life, the fact
remains that for the stage there is no character in greater demand by
"star" actresses and "romantic" playwrights. They seem to find a
peculiar interest in a woman who has "lived"--no matter how. If, in
ransacking history, they are lucky enough to discover a courtesan who
can be billed as a "king's favorite," they appear to smack their lips
exultantly. One is almost inclined to believe that dead-and-gone kings
must have chosen "favorites" merely for the sake of to-day's stage.

As soon as the playwright has excavated a courtesan, he begins to
think of the best way of whitewashing her. For she must be offered up
as more sinned against than sinning. Of course. The playwright wastes
his substance thinking up excuses for her. He is quite willing--nay,
anxious--that she shall go wrong, but he prefers that she shall be
driven to it by untoward circumstances. He is desirous that we shall
sympathize with her, to the point of tears, in the last act. It is
very kind of him to do such charitable deeds in history's name, and we
realize how exceedingly unselfish he is. Just the same, this mania for
resurrecting defunct courtesans seems a trifle neurasthenic. It
appears to indicate a hysterical sympathy, on the part of the
playwright, with dead characters whom, in life, he would hesitate at
asking to dinner _en famille_.

The two women who built up "The Lady Shore" smashed history into
smithereens in their rabid and frenzied effort to make her an
exquisite impersonation of nearly all the virtues. It was, in fact,
grotesque and ludicrous. With any old history book staring them in the
face, they treated Jane Shore precisely as though she were the heroine
of a dime novel. They had no qualms. They lopped great wads from her
past, and