Along with these ups, the Pudding has also had its share of downs. "Fireman, Save My Child," in 1929 went on tour to New York. Here, it was such a colossal failure that a segment of Harvard alumni in New York gathered and implored the Pudding never to send another show to Broadway. 1930's production was so good, however, that the alumni did an about face and asked them to return.

A Curtain Raiser

Whenever the Pudding has what its producers consider a small hit, it will enthusiastically hit the road on all sorts of grand tours. In 1913, "Panamania" was good enough to merit such a junket and the Pudding sent it off on an ambitious tour covering practically every state west of the Rockies. A newspaper review told of the show's termination in Chicago.

"An informal party for the cast had been held for some time before the curtain was due to rise, so that the players had ample opportunity to acquire a stock of artificial good cheer. When the curtain arose disclosing the 'picture'--hero on a tree, cast kneeling before him on the ground, their plight soon became evident. The hero fell headlong from the tree and lay prone upon the stage, and when rescue came, it was found that the chorus was sound asleep to a man. The curtain redescended immediately."

All pudding tours have not had quite so disasterous culminations as this one, but in the long run, they have proved to be consistent money-losers. For instance, when the Pudding produced their hundredth show "Here's the Pitch," in 1948, the producers decided to celebrate. They sent the play to every big city east of the Mississippi, and ended up with a deficit of over $13,000. Since then, the Pudding has attempted to curtail such ambition.

Foul or Fair

1956's rendition of "Love Rides the Rails," will see several changes in Pudding tradition. The producers have closed casting to eliminate all but members of the Hasty Pudding Club; a Freshman will write the music; and the play will return to the original tradition of a spring, rather than a winter, production. This is the way the Pudding operates. Whenever it finds itself faced with any pressing financial or technical difficulties, it has always managed, by foul means or fair, to get something on the stage.

The Hasty Pudding Theatrical's efforts since 1844 have fluctuated from the sublime to the ridiculous. It has waged a continuous battle to stay out of the red, a battle it seldom wins or really cares to win. As long as the performers themselves enjoy what they are doing--as has been the case for the last century--it really matters little whether the audience laughs with them or at them. As long as they laugh, it's a hit