+UUis THE MICHIGAN DAILY
Vrade WILLIAM FAVER AM To-day
IN_ T HUR SDA Y
"ONE MILLION DOLLARWS"
hetre Faversham admits that he is better in Pictures than on the Speaking Stage To-day

MICHIGAN DAIY-Jap Girls Scorn
Established 1890 At The Theaters
AILY'S MI)-WEEK MAGA-M
ZN1 PAGE L m lh nf Is mit Fi (nttnio finra n e * * * * * * W * * * *

* AT THE THEATERS *
* -1
* TODAY *
* ___*
Majestic-Vaudeville.
* ____*_
* Arcade-William Faversham,
* in "One Million Dollars."*.
* Orpheum - Geraldine Farrar, *
* in "Temptation." Evening, 15
* cents.
* *
Otis Skinner in humorous Role
"Cock o' the Walk," Otis Skinner's
new play, which he will present at the
Whitney Theatre Thursday, March 9,
promises to be a radical departure from
most of Mr. Skinner's previous pro-
ductions here. It was written espe-
cially for him by Henry Arthur Jones,
the eminent English dramatist. It pic-
tures in a satirical way modern con-
ditions of life in England today among
celebrated player-folk. The foibles and
frailities, the winning and ignoble
traits of actors are amusingly set forth
by Mr. Jones. "Cock o' the Walk" pro-
vides Mr. Skinner with an essentially
humorous role, which he will doubt-
tess embody to perfection.
"Prince of Tonight" at Majestic
Something novel is in store for the
popular price theatre-goers when the
tabloid version of Adams, Hough and
Howard's musical romance, "The
Prince of Tonight," with Tom Arnold
in the title role, will be presented at
the Majestic tonight. Mr. Arnold's role
is that of a college youth, poor but re-
sourceful, who is spurned by a beau-
tiful heiress whom he dares to love,
and eventually wins, after being trans-
formed by the mystic influence of a
blooming century plant, into a prince
of the mythical land of Lunitania. It
is a pretty story and gives the authors
an opportunity to introduce a number
of unusually tuneful songs, snappy and
witty lines, pretty girls, an excellent
male chorus, a wealth of beautiful
Scenery, electrical effects, attractive
costumes and everything that goes to
make up the best of musical extrava-
ganza.
(Omar, the Tentmaker; Returns Friday
Scenically, the equipment of "Omar,
the Tentmaker," the spectacular Per-
ian romance by Richard Walton Tully,
in which Guy Bates Post will return
to the Whitney Theatre for one per-
formance Friday evening, March 3, is
so massive and elaborate that only the
largest stages in America will accom-
modate the successionrof huge settings
which are a conspicuous feature of
the attraction. It is doubtful if the
alluring and picturesque atmosphere

of the Orient has ever been so faith-
fully reproduced upon the stage as
in "Omar, the Tentmaker." This lavish
stage adornment is the achievement of
Mr. Tully himself, in association with
Wilfred Buckland, who for ten years
served as art director for David Be-
lasco.
Cyril ilande ( oming to the Whitney
The attraction at the Whitney The-
atre Monday, March 6, will be Cyril
Maude. the well known English actor,
whose American triumph has been one
of the sensations of recent theatrical

You who sit and watch the stories
flit to and fro across the pictured
screen, portraying life and death, and
scenes in many lands, making you,
laugh or tingeing all with touches of
sadness, being quite transported to'
spheres other than those in which for-
tune has placed you, have been in-'
dined to bestow your praise upon the
actors and beings of the great Film
World. Nor do you think of the
"Movie-Man," he who risks his life
and limb to reproduce for you the life
of the Areties or the tropics, wars and
giant conflagrations, or the deeds of
mighty nations. This is the first of a
series, dealing with the actual adven-
tures of one of these heroes of the
turning crank.
1. Filming Alaska
Perhaps my first big venture dates
back to the day that I decided to accept
the proposal of the Edison people to
make a trip to Alaska with their com-
pany. It was back in the -winter of'
1911. when the motion picture indus-
try was yet in its infancy, and when
the two and three-reel "thrillers"
were at the height of their popularity.
The public, having gotten over their
stage fright at the "new-fangled con-

zens on the streets of "Nome," and de-
cided that Hi Stubbs grocery looked
about the same as it ever did, if only
the scrawled "Red Dog Saloon" sign
were removed.
Now the Edison people were pioneers
in the work, and they decided to give
the not-too-gullible public a taste of
the real article. So the last of De-
cember of that year found seventeen
of us-actors, actresses, directors, sce-
nario wrriters and film men, disembark-
ing at Prince Rupert Island for the
long journeys into the interior in
search of wind-swept mountain ranges,
ten-foot drifts, and bearded miners.
Cold? Only about 53 degrees below
the nothing mark all the time, but we
were all more or less furred tip, and
the cold was that dry sort of cold
that does not inconvenience to any
great extent.
In the vicinity of the towns we trav-
eled by stage, but after leaving Nome,
. Fairbanks, Skagway, and Valdez, we
had to resort to husky dogs and bob-
sleds. We picked up a couple of half
breed guides, and say,-if they were
half breeds, I never want to see a
whole breed. Dirty, ill-tempered fel-
lows they were, but some handy with
the little axes in clearing a trail or
chopping a queer mound-shaped shel-
ter out of ice blocks-igloos, they
called them. They made pretty warm
sleeping places too, but I soon learned
to snuggle up in a fur sleeping bag
and bury myself in the snow, doing
a Rip Van Winkle to the tune of the
wolves howling in the distance, and
the Northern Lights dancing promis-
cuous on the sky line.
And speaking of wolves-after what
happened to me one night because of
them, I could hardly be kept from tak-
ing pot shots at them as often as they
hove in the distance. You see we had
camped over night in a deserted log
cabin-log cabins are always deserted
-on the trail, and. were indulging in
that famous indoor sport of draw po-
ker. Sam Porter, the other operator,
was dealing. Kendrick, the director,
made a bet. I looked at my cards,
and son-of-a-gun I had a spade flush!
And just then, about two feet outside
the cabin door, something goes alt-
whoo! I jumped up, and threw down
my hand, shaking all over. The others
gave me the laugh. They had a right
too, because I'd have cleaned up on
the hand I held. But mostly the
wolves slunk along in the distance
with the manner of a second story man
coming out of old Isaac's place on
Thirty-fourth Street. You know the
place. Three gilt balls hanging--.
You know. Where was I at? Oh yes.
Well, we worked up into the interior,
(ContinuedWon Page Five)

(eal Adbentures of .Michigan ren
-0---

F LS I
iLeadIing id~ dy

XAVKIAY
,Withi (yril.laide

The Specialty Hat Shop

aistory, and his famed play of "Grum-
py." After a year at Walladk's The-
atre, New York, and a full season on
tour, Mr. Maude last fall went to the
Empire Theatre and scored a second
Broadway triumph with his delightful
comedy, a record of achievement sel-
iom if ever equalled by a dramatic star
in this country. Both Mr. Maude and
"Grumpy" are so well known to all
followers of the theatre, that slight in-
troduction is necessary for either star
.r play. Mr. Maude after a distin-
.uished career on the English stage,
came to America for his first tour of
this country, about three years ago,
:md so enthusiastic was the reception
C "Grumpy," one of the first plays
that he did in New York, and so in-
,istent the demand for "Grumpy" per-
formances that he has played that com-
edy practically all the time that he
has been on this side of the Atlantic.
His masterly portrayal of the eccen-
tricities of temper and the kindness
of the lovable nature beneath the ap-
parent gruffness, that win for the aged
barrister, from whose nick-name of
endearment the play receives its title,
make a character impersonation that
has won deserved fame as a stage
classic.
THE PIT
lack as tihe Pit
From Pole to Pole"
Ode
Peace hath her not ignoble wreath,
Ere yet the sharp decisive word
Light the black lips of cannon, and
the sword
Dreams in its easeful sheath;
But some day the live coals behind the
thought,
Whether from Baal's stone obscene,
Or from the shrine serene
Of God's pure altar brought,
Bursts up in flame; the war of tongue
and pen
Learns with what deadly purpose it
was fraught
And helpless in the fiery passion
caught, ,
Shakes all the pillared state with the
shock of men:
Some day the soft Ideal that we wooed
Confronts us fiercely, foe beset, pur-
su'ed,
And cries reproachful: "Was it then
my praise,
And not myself was loved? Prove
now thy truth;-
I claim of thee the promise of thy
youth; ,I
Give me thy life, or cower in empty
phrase,
The victim of thy genius, not its mate!"
* * *
Disturbing the Past
DID you see the front-page story
yesterday, about leap year, et al? If
so, pardon us for reminding you, and
the Dailv that Prof . ankrin csnt that


Extends to you a cordial invitation to attend the
Spring Millinery Opening,.

theme back to be done over-as far as
the author is concerned. Fame, y'
know, will come without ability.
This Is Really Very Good Stuff
Dear Gee: Assuming that you have
some difficulty at times in filling your.
columns - even the Colonels do,
y'know; why not the Nuts?-I submit:
the following, which occurred to me'
on a Friday, while eating pork: Is
Pit an abbreviation of pitiful or pith-
less? I wouldn't expect this to get
by, had I not read the coo-ed stuff.
Of course it lacks associations. But
I do, m'self.
By the by, congrats on the anthol-
ogy product! Your spiritual shot-i'-
th'-arms are real bracers. The fame
of Kipling and Tagore is beginning to
spread even into the sou'-west corner
of the campus. That's a mission!
Give'm "The Village Blacksmith" as
a teaser.
M. E. P.
There was, of course, more. But we
printed this much as an example of
the desire on our part to greet you
all with open arms -figuratively
speaking. But if you, don't believe
the above is good-ask the man who
wrote it.
"Is it necessary that our before-
breakfast intelligence be insulted,
etc?" '
T. B. 0. of D. T. H.
James-James, I told you to bring
the after-dinner intelligence, and you
have insulted the company with your
before-tea intelligence!!
* * *
This Is More or Less Personal
Dear Gee:
Your reflections as to the dignity
of the Dilly Daily have caused the
lino men to try and becom'e dignified
hv ronwina mustaces.

Denizens of the Northland
traption," clamored - for stories of
rough-bearded miners and winsome
daughters lost in Arctic blizzards, and.
villains who tried to kill the said
r. b. m. and make off with the w. d.,
not forgetting the canvas sacks of
hoarded dust which were always kept
concealed in tin boxes sunk into the
cabin floor. You know the kind. Well,
the public began to get wise to the
fact that the "blizzards" were only
New Jersey snowstorms, and the in-
habitants of Pineville, Vermont, rec-
ognized some of their prominent citi-

Have a look!
The, crowds will meet at "U" Hall
at four-thirty, and march over en
masse.
***
Millions for DMfense!
Dear Gee:
I write it tickles me-
(That girl's communication)
She .sneered at you,
And jeered at you
And spread commiseration.
A co-ed, sir,
I must aver,
Excels at tasting fudges;
But engineers
(I have my fears)
Are sorry humor judges.
Have courage, Gee; shed not a tear-
'Twas but a co-ed ENGINEER!
P. A.W.
* * *
Let's see-wasn't there something
else?
* * *
Oh; yes We are steeped in misery!
By Gee.
SLOGAN OF THE WORKER
Though poverty yawn like a gulf
Between me and my goal,
Naught but the loss of life can quench
The ardor of my soul.
Misfortune beats upon my brow,
Till all but life is gone;
Still, in my soul a yoice replies,
"Strive on, and on, and on."
At last amid the stormy night
Success begins to dawn;
My spirit's ship is near to part,
Strive on, and on, and on.
The port is reached, the anchor drop-
ped,
"0 Spirit 'rest! 'Tis won!"
I speak and lo! My soul looks up

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