MR MACOABE’S ENTERTAINMENT.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume IV, Issue 931, 1 May 1883, Page 2

MR MACOABE’S ENTERTAINMENT.

No better proof of Mr Maccabe’s popularity could be given than the fact that last evening :ha Town Hall was well filled with people who were not to be deterred by the horrible weather from witnessing tle entertainment. Had the rain held off there can be no question that there would have been a far larger attendance, and those who were not present missed a genuine treat. Mr Maccabe has been before the public for a good many years, and when he first made his deMt, he was generally admitted to be the cleverest monologue entertvner that had ever appeared. Since that time nobody has come forward to dispute his supremacy, so that it is not a matter of wonder that his performances have been a success wherever they have been given. Nor is the entertainment one whit inferior to what it was ten or fifteen years ago, as we can testify from personal experience. Mr Maccabe seems to be gifted with perennial youth, and age evidently cannot wither, nor can custom stale his infinite variety. The after dinner speech of that fatuous old member of the great majority, Mr Solemnsides creates as much laughter as ever, the blooming Mias May is an admirable impersonation of gushing feminity, and the lady-killer is a perfect representation of a type of swell of whom the late Lord Dundreary was the supreme example. The rapidity with which the changes were made was wonderful, only a few seconds elapsing between the assumptions of different costumes. As a ventriloquist Mr Maccabe is probably without an equal in the world. Unlike other professors of this difficult art, he does not depend upon such extraneous aid as can be obtained by means of mechanical figures, but he trusts solely to his voice. The quick transitions from his natural tone in speaking to the gruff voice of the supposed bricklayer and again to the imaginary man on the roof and the intrusive kitten, were simply marvellous. Indeed, so complete was the illusion that it was almost impossible to imagine that one voice only was used, Nor must we omit to mention another item in the first part of the programme; we refer to Mr Maccabe’s singing of Samuel Lover’s song, “I’m not myself at all.” This was rendered in a manner that would have gladdened the heart of the genial Irish p >et himself, and we do not see how we can give higher preise than that. The two troubadours—the ideal and the real —were, perhaps, the most striking features of the evening. The latter was certainly thoroughly mirth-provoking, the guttaral intonation of the voice and the whole action giving a perfect portrait of the species of humanity known as the street singer—a class common enough in London. In the second part Mr Maccabe gave impersonations of a railway porter, a Yorkshireman, and an Irish philosopher. Much as they differed from each other it may be safely said that the representations were perfect. The porter’s remarks on the idiosyncracies of railway travellers, the Yorkshireman’s criticisms of London life and the Irishman’s notions of science were all equally appreciated. There could be but one opinion concerning the success of tho entertainment, and those who faced tho refractory elements for the purpose of being present last night, had no reason to regret it. Mr Maccabe was to have gone to Timaru this morning, but the accident on the line detained him, and he was compelled to remain in Ashburton.