Dancer Lenore Peters's theatrical credits include her stint in the chorus of The Tik-Tok Man of Oz during it's entire 1913-14 run. She eventually became director of the influential Peters Wright Dance Studio in her native San Francisco, California. She occasionally wrote verse, including the following sonnets, originally published in The Playbill of San Francisco's renowned Alcazar Theatre, in August 1912.
("Super" is short for the theatrical term supernumerary, meaning someone who takes the role of a minor character, usually unnamed and without dialogue, filling in the background of a scene.)
 |
| Lenore Peters as a Daisy Girl |
Some Sonnets of a Super
I
The dressing-room above a flight of stair--
My destination early every night--
Is always long on girls and laughter light,
But very short on oxygen and chairs.
A plentiful supply of grease and paint,
Cold cream and towels and powder by the cake,
And countless kind of dope, that go to make
An ugly feature look as if it ain't,
Bestrew the shelf that runs around the room;
And, every time he passes by the door,
El Techelero, like a child of four,
Puts out the lights, enshrouding us in gloom.
But, then, there’s compensation, after all,
In chatting with the actors in the hall.
In chatting with the actors in the hall.
II
The men that take the most important parts—
When paroxysm No. 1 is o’er—
And draped around the window and the door
To set agog the flutt’ring maidens’ hearts
With all their fetching looks and charming ways:
Don Luis in his dashing Spanish red,
His brother’s bold blue eyes and wagging head,
And Charlie Gunn,—and David sings and plays;
There’s Harold Holland, desperado dire,
And Eddie Lowe, his makeup simply horrid—
One mass of grease and black from foot to fore’ead—
And last, the nut-brown Padre, worthy sire!
With these we chatter on in sprits high—
The leading man in silence passes by!
The leading man in silence passes by!
III
The curtain up, behind the scenes I sit,
Awaiting cues for shouts and laughter loud
And entrances along with all the crowd
Of other extra girls to make a hit
By casting cascaroni at the boys;
And, mounting stairs that tremble at each step,
Endeavoring to put a little pep
Into a scene that calls for lots of noise.
We turn away our faces at the kiss,
We dance, we flirt, and do our best to show
The surging of alternate joy and woe;
We hear Sunol lament and spit and hiss.
Then off we go to comfort one another—
The Rose is cursed by “loyal” Spanish mother!
The Rose is cursed by “loyal” Spanish mother!
IV
Oh, how I’ll hate to leave it Sunday night,
The airless, chairless dressing-room and all
The airy conversations in the hall!
And how I’ll miss the music and the light!
That first sonorous call of “half” and “hour,”
Jack’s velvet voice and ways and velvet suit,
The energetic stage director, cute,
Enthroned in his little prompter’s bower.
I never shall forget Kinkaid’s rough men,
The wild excitement of the first night rush,
The muffled offstage chatter and the “Shush!”
And in my memory I’ll hear again
The tinkling mandolins, the soft guitar,
And, with unceasing pleasure, watch the Star!
And, with unceasing pleasure, watch the Star!
Copyright © 2026 Eric Shanower. All rights reserved.
