If reports from New York are to be credited Frank Mayo has, in the play he has made of Mark Twain's story of life in the southwest before the war, breathed the breath of life into the creation of Mark Twain's fertile brain. The result is a half-score of the quaintest, queerest, most lovable men and women ever introduced on the stage.

At the head of all is Mr. Mayo's own creation of the eccentric, wise, witty old village lawyer, who patiently waits nearly a quarter of a century for his first client. In the meantime he interests himself in taking prints of the balls of the thumbs of his neighbors on bits of glass, filing them away that he might study the curious lines, curves, whorls, loops and flourishes that adorn the thumb of every human being. The wonder of it all is that there are no two among the teeming millions of this earth that are alike. This fad of his with his many other eccentricities led to David Wilson being called by his neighbors a "pudd'nhead."

"Pudd'nhead Wilson" will be presented for the first time in this city at the Tremont theater tomorrow evening. The regular matinees will be given on Wednesday and Saturday, and a special holiday matinee will be given Thursday. Mr. Mayo is surrounded by a company of sterling artists numbering some Boston favorites, notably Miss Eleanor Moretti, and the scenic embellishment of the play is said to be uniquely picturesque and effective.