Judge — June 21, 1884 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Tue outlook for the fall nis not alto- gether promising. It is a well known fact that city polities interfere to acertain extent every autumn with theatrical enterprise, but | a prospective lively presidential cam for September, October, an part of vember is en to make the stoutest mana- gerial heart quake with fear. Great efforts will be made to produce strong attractions, and if we e a scason of Italian opera, as it now seems probable we | shall, the theatres may do a fair business, | after all. The Union Square, The Fifth Avenue, The New Park, and The Comedy lost heavily last season, thou the Square, in a measure, made up for its losses in town by the success | of its companies onthe road, Sarah Jewett will return to the scene of her former tri- umphs (2), and Whiting is spoken of as lead- ing man for next season, but we fear The Union Square has seen its best days, and that they need a Palmer more than a Jewett, to retrieve its fallen fortunes. We are threatened with another Britis invasion, but then we can always give Eng- land back as good (or as bad) as she sends. Firstly and foremostly come Irving and Miss Terry, who would like to make another half million or so, out of American pockets. Erie Bailey, whom rumor says has fallen heir to a princely fortune,” has been among w. aaa has made arrangements to start out a comedy company of English artists next season under the management of J. St. Maur. Mr. Bailey has already returned to his native heath, to secure the treasures that will astonish and delight us. Sophie Eyre is now a member of Wallack’s company, and Kate Lonsdale, a London burlesqae actress, has arrived on our shores. Florence Girard is expected to return and to form one of acompany that will go out with Mr, H. B. Lonsdale Beside all this, Minnie Palmer and Lotta are coming back to us, the former with a| pronpuns d English ent, which will doubt- ess be almost as bad as the polyglot Eng- lish of Janauschek who precedes the festive Minnie at the Fourteenth-street Theatr We thought that after Salvini and Rossi had given their farewell performances we should enjoy a respite from Italo-English tors r, Joseph Brooks is too enthu- astic nirer of the Maccaronis to leave us long without a specimen of sunny Italy to gaze upon and listen to, ‘This time it will be Ristori, who will give us a taste of English » is spoke in “3 “* Mari Marie Stuart Mact At one time the great § pay us a visit, and show w woman's idea of Lad but heaven is kind an and Sarah has finally de whata French cbeth might be, ds propitious, the g ided to see how she | c will look in pants and proposes to exhibit | herself in Paris as. a Franco-Danish Hamlet, THE JUDGE. soil. Mr. Stetson will not import any foreign novelties this year, Charles Coghlan cost him dear, but now Stetson has the experience and Charles has the money, and hereafter their paths will divergs One would think by this time that the Cosmopolitan would prove'a terror to any- but the old adage that ‘fools rush in ngels fear to tread” seems particu- »plicable to this theatre of financial isaster, and even death to its lessees. This time Mr. George Wood is the man to tackle it, and before this article gets into print, ‘The Naiad Queen” will have dis. ported herself on the boards that have been trodden hy the Equine Paradox, Mary Blackburn and Professor Marwig. Low rates of admission will prevail, and ladies may visit the matinees for the com- paratively small sum of twenty-five cents which, it is safe to predict, will’ be quite as much as the show is worth. | Buffalo Bill, in his ‘* Wild We tainment n be s the remainder of the week. A menagerie | id a Dime Museum show combined! Here is a chance to see cow boys, bronchos, buffa- loes and ‘Texas steers in company with the heroic Mr. Cody, who will do his bowie and revolver acts for the delectation of all who are willing to pay fifty cents to witness the performance. Children are expected to be thrilled for half the price. Out-door shows are all the rage at this season, and one night last week the German Liederkranz held their summer-night’s festi- val at Washington Park. Bernstein’s or- chestra and Leibold’s band furnished the | music, and the mem| of the society tripped the light fantastic regardless of “heat or ennui. Our German friends certainly know how to enjoy themselves in hot weather, and as long as lager flows in profusion, beer gz remain open, and picnics are numerous, one never hears complaints from former inhabi- tants of the Vaterland. before she again ventures upon American | ” enter- THE EARLY BIRD. Moses—“ What are you doing with your ulster and skates this time of year?” «You see there area great many # in our establishment. I took my vaca- tion so early Tam just gelling back, to give the next fellow a chance.” nat the Polo Grounds | “ Love and Soda. Tine and thirsty th Through the he And the «1 to soothe their parched throats With something cool and sweet y roamed along ind dusty street, Affection’s fond solicitude Was in his eyes reflected, And it sadly grieved his manly heart To sce her soda-jected. “Cheer u * he For his own distress not carin, As he marked her weak and dro¢ And her accents soda-spairing. . my love, avely said, s form, 1 at last, rejoiced came to adr ely he asked her to step within— 1 whom he did ado: For glad was she to offer of his, And it seemed like music unto her ear— urkling fizz. ” he tenderly said, “Until our thirst is sated.” So the glasses were filled to the foami: And their throats they irrigated. She laid it empty And murmured, s soda-lici And he right gallantly made r “Then try another, my prec wn, with a pus!” She tried, And once again che essayed, Her efforts successful did prove; every trial he soda—dime Fvest fleld of love. usto she smacked her dainty lips; itude excited, sweetly smiled and spoke her thanks: And he felt soda-lighted He tenderly pressed her lovely hand, As they gaily trod the street; +1 feel so much refreshed,” he “How do you feel, my sweet?” id, She turned her dove-like g And her eyes with pl And she murmured soft, As if I should—explode.” 1 to bis, ure glowed; I feel my love, To the Iditor of * The Judge. FROM PATRICK O'SHEA, LATE INMATE OF THE 30 LINGAT LUNATIC ASYLUM, IRELAND, NOW RESIDE WITH 118 UNCLE IN Deer ann Hononkep Sir. Mayne ye think we don’t sce or here any- thin’ worth seein’ or heerin’ in the Ould Counthry, but bedad ye're undher a mistake, for there's not one turn or twist in all Amer- goes on unbeknownst to uz over her Wasn't a first cousin of me mother’s si niece watchman in Stewart’s store, w clock that'd tell in the mornin’ if he mis one of his rounds at nite. Wasn’t Dan Mual- lins’ son, who lived undher the same roof with us for twenty year, imployed on one of Vandherbilt’ , puttin’ uz in diriet contact with all the mil and givin’ uz cridit in eviry shop we put our foot i Is there a week we don’t see Tur Junge and all the leadin’ papers that our frinds sind over to uz, and don’t they be read out at all the wakes and weddins and other sprees in the hole counthry, which is partly the raison of me writin’ to-day, and makin’ bould to throuble you, for I’ tuk notice of letthers you were publishin’ from time to time from one signin’ himself by the name of O'Callahan, and statin’ himself to be a comicbooks.com