AMUSEMENTS.

Evening Star, Issue 2900, 5 June 1872, Page 2

AMUSEMENTS.

PRINCESS THEATRE. Last, evening the “Mariner’s Compass” was repeated before a good audience. The plot of the piece is shortly this: Two young children, a boy and girl, are rescued from death—the boy from drowning, and the girl from cholera—by a rough, but honest-hearted son of the sea, who henceforth becomes “ more than a father ” to them both. These two young people—Hetty Arnold and Ruby Dassett—according to the most orthodox style, and as a matter of coarse, fall in love. Ruby having gone to sea, it soon transpires that this “more than a father”—Silas Eaglehart—is also in lore, and that the boy Ruby is the only obstacle in his way. Soon the life of Ruby is, as it were, placed in ■Si'as’s bauds, for the ship in which he sailed is ha 1 upon the rocks, and the only hand that can fire the gun to carry the lile-line to the ship must be that of ;Silas Eaglehart. Hence the temptation to shoot wide of the mark, and so allow bis rival to perish, leaving himself master of the field. Duty, however, prevails over interest and the boy-rival is one of the first landed from the sinking ship. Having returned to the ship, however, to save life he himself fads a sacrifice, and so, for a while, the course seems again clear for Silas, who, staying alone to contemplate his present lot, and happy prospects for the future, is terrified to see the body of Ruby being washed in shore by the tile. Nearer and st;ll nearer it com' 0, and now being dragged forth by Silas' own hand, it is found that life is not extinct. Here again is the temptation to crush out the flickering spark of life, and so remove the only hindrance to the happy consummation of his love. But again duty prevails, [and Ruby is received into their Joint home and placed under the tender care of Hetty, till he has recovered. Then come some very prettily wrought scenes—which were well acted—in which the two lovers, from a sense of gratitude to their “more than father,” are made to feign that their love has all along been but “as brother for sister, and sister for brother. ” Whereupon the honest Silas is married to Hetty, and Ruby goes to sea again. He returns to find his old benefactor and his quondam lover plunged into the deepest poverty. But, being himself in funds, and assisted by the contributions of comrades, he quickly restores all to rights, and is rewarded by the hand of Hetty on parting, in a good dance, well gone through by the whole company. Now, for some reason that does not very clearly appear, Silas again puts to sea, leaving Hetty and her infant daughter in charge of Ruby. Years elapse, but no news of Silas. At last a letter is revived, announcing his death in the Arctic seas, and, of course, at last Hetty gives her hand to Ruby. But while the marriage ceremony is being performed inside the church, Silas has returned, and having called first at the churchyard to see if any of bis loved ones have been laid there, reads a tablet erected to his own memory, and now learns that his own wife has been wedded to another. The moral of the whole piece bangs upon duty—typified by the Mariner’s Compass—which, as it is presumed to have pointed a clear course out of all previous complications, is now to enable all concerned to steer also out of this crowning one of all. It is brought about thus Silas flies from the spot of his supposed degradation and dishonor—passing by means of a rustic bridge over a mill-stream, in which is a large revolving wheel. Hetty, in despair, flings herself off the bridge into the stream, and Kuby —who has secreted himself to watch the progress of events —plunges k in to save her. Het y, by his aid, is enabled to grasp hold of the wheel, and in this position 13 drawn up to the bridge, where she is received by Silas; Ruby, however, is found dead in the stream, a sacrifice to duty in trying to save her. The “ Mariner’s Compass” will be repeated ibis evening. THE CIRC PS. The reduction of the prices of admission to this place of entertainment resulted In a very large attendance last evening. An almost entirely new programme was presented, and the various feats met with the warm approval of the audience, —Messrs Roberts and Gorman, on the horizontal bar, being vociferously applauded. Mr Cowle, as usual, was witty without being vulgar; and Mr James Braham has evidently established himself as a favorite in the estimation of the public. It is announced that the performance to-night will be under the patronage of His Honor the Superintendent, when a special bill of fare will be provided. It may not be out of place to call the attention of the management to the fact that several persons, in the course of the performance last evening, indulged in smoking, to the obvious annoyance of several ladies—a thing wh ch should nob be allowed. MASONIC HALL. There was a numerous attendance last evening at this hall; but it was not so large as Miss Green’s claims, or the programme she put forward, deserved. The fact is that the profession have fallen into the habit, which cannot be too strongly condemned, of

announcing as farewells performances which, in reality, are the periodical benefits which most managements allow to the lending members of a company, and as a con cqnence the majority of playgoers are unconscious when a bonafde last appearance takes place. We feci convinced that had her friends known that last evening was Miss Green’s final appearance, prior to her depa- ture from Dunedin, they would have mustered m strong force to hear her say good-bye to them The programme comprised the favorite comedy of “A Morning Call,’ a musical melange, and a farce. In the first, the beneficiare was ably assisted by Mr H. Clapcott, who was a capital Sir Charles Ardent. Messrs Coates, Josephs, and Mitchell afterwards sang, the first two gentlemen beim* well received. The afterpiece was “Matrimonial Squabbles,” in which Miss Green and Mr Towers provoked considerable amusement by their amusing delineations of the troubles of a newly married and, be it observed, jealous couple. At the conclusion of the performance, Miss Green came before the footlights and said .-—Ladies and Gentlemen,—Accustomed as no doubt you think I ought to be to public speaking, my task to-nigh t seems to me a very difficult one, and yet I ted L ought not to leave here for ever (as I fear it will be) without saying a few words m farewell to those friends who have so kindly rallied round me this evening. 1 have been many years in Dunedin and have Known much happiness here. My efforts to please, professionally, have always been appreciated ; and I think I may say with truth, that 1 believe I leave behind me many well wishers ; and few if any enemies. Actors and actresses are a class of professionals who ought to travel until they can settle down in Borne largo city where there is an everchanging population. Dunedin is a small city, and it will only support one theatre; and I believe to make that pay a fair remuneration to its managers, throe or four of it s loading people should be frccjucntl} 1 changed; and, passing from this subject, I wish to say, as 1 have heard the question mooted as to why I have not taken this parting night at the theatre with which I have been connected so long, that as soon as I knew 1 was leaviug Dunedin for good, I made two separate applications to the lessees—one written and one verbally. I wrote a letter saying I should like to play one week s engagement, terminating with a farewell benefit, and received an answer saying that their present engagements would not p, emit them to offer me any terms. A verbal request was then made for me, for one farewell night, and a fortnight elapsing without receiving the promised reply, I came to the conclusion that silence was a negative, and that I must leave the place where I had been so long, without saying good-bye publicly to themany friends I knew Iha 1. But aid came from quarters where it was least expected, and in your presence I return my sincere and heartfelt thanks to those gentlemen who have enabled me to leave this town with the pleasing recollection that though I was an old face my welcome was not worn out, and leading me to hope, that if at a future clay 1 should ever re-visit New Zealand, I should meet with as warm a welcome at the hands of those kind friends who have to-night practically proved their good wishes. I shall never forget Dunedin. 1 leave some friends here whose memory will live in my heart for all the years to come, to them, and to all those who have so kindly come forward to assist me, I return my grateful thanks, and truly sorrowfully say—Farewell 1