The Star And Newark Advertiser

Lyric Headliner Tells Adeline
Stanley Carrick of His
Various Vicissitudes.

"You had to fight?" I exclaimed.
"Sure, I had to fight. You had to do
all those things in the early Western
days. People used to come to see me
fight who never thought of watching
me act. 'All things for all people' used
to be the motto, whether or no. But I
wouldn't give up that training for any-
thing in the world." Mr. Ross waxed
serious. "There was nothing like it to
give a young player self-confidence. A
manager would say, 'We're going to put
on "Hamlet" tomorrow night. Can you
play it,' and without stopping to think
you'd answer 'sure,' and you'd do it,
too. Those were the good old days."

"Twenty years ago," Mr. Ross con-
tinued, "a man could introduce some-
thing new, and they let him have it.
Now, let one come forward with a new
idea, and an hour after he's sprung it
it's been telegraphed to 'Frisco. And
what can you do about it? There's no
such thing as copyright law in this
country. If they can't steal your stuff
outright, they'll get your idea and
change the words a trifle.

"In England a man or woman will do
a certain specialty until it's a perfect
thing, a work of art. That's why the
English artists who come over here are
so much better than many Americans
who do the same thing. Here it's some-
thing new, something new, every min-
ute.

"Which do you prefer, vaudeville
or-?"
"I'm a showman," Mr. Ross inter-
rupted, "and my heart is where my
work is, in vaudeville or elsewhere.
There are no specialties for 'show peo-
ple.' The audience is the thing, and
their aim is to please."

What a relief it was to hear this,
after hearing endless prating about
what different artists would and would
not do.

"Of course," he concluded, "it is
every actor's ambition not to make a
part-any able man can do this if
rightly assigned-but to create one, all
his own. Sometimes he realizes it, and
sometimes-O, well," he smiled whim-
sically, "it's all in the day's work,
isn't it?"

During the conversation he permitted
me to peep into a book of poems he
intends to publish some day. They
were dainty little eight and ten-line
creations, full of Mr. Ross's own philos.
ophy. Among them in prose, was
an appreciation of his old and intimate
friend, "Pete" Dailey. One read sin-
cerity in every line.