Judge — September 17, 1887 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Siape: A HISTRIONIC TALE. HE lending lady sat on a stone, And sad of mien was she ; Before her paced the manager lone, And a mournful moan moaned he. “Oh! business is bad on the road,” quoth he, “And the times are out of joint, Fair Jersey City’s the place for me, And toward it I shall point.” ‘Then he dove his right hand deep within The place where his purse had been, But hisspasmic grasp brought forth notin— Not a ghost of a cent was seen. And then with his left he dove again In the depths of his trouserloons, And found a button, an old steel And a brace of plated spoons. pen } Then the leading lady, there on the aa stone, What were the words quoth she? What was the burthen of her moan As she sniftled plaintivelee? A dollar or two I needs must get Or life I'll not endure ; I want some fur for my ulsterette And the fee for Then the manager raged in righteous wrath And gnashed histeeth witha groan t from under that lady fair icked the old mile-stone. «Cash for to fix thy finger nails? Fur for an ulsterette Blessed are they who naught expect, For that’s just what they'll get The lady's eyebrows quirkled thri And she wiggled her fingers slim, And the blood of the manager quickly froze ked a glance toward him. were long though his purse was short, So he took to his heels and ran, While the lady gathered her skirt- lings up And followed the flying man. They fled all day ‘till the shadows gray ‘ame down and the light grew And the high-heeled boots and striped hose JUDGE AND THE PLAY. The stage people are rapidly making for town from the different summer re- sorts preparatory to putting on the har- ness for the fall season. The regular season here in New York will shortly be in full operation, and then—ah yes, and then ? De Wolf Hopper is an excellent: story-teller, and if once prevailed upon’ to let himself loose can manage to en- tertain a company fully as well off the re as he does on. One dreary Sun- evening down at Bath Beach the last week in August, a party of a dozen or more congenial souls vainly endeav- oring to keep happy and warm, and succeeding dismally in both, started in to kill time and the hotel proprietor by volving some stupendous yarns. Clay author of * The Golden Giant, arles W. Dongan, and De Wolf Hopper were the aggressor, and of the trio the latter was awarded the con- ventional palm. Hopper is a very fluent and pleasing a method of talking nce in a familiar, known-you-since-you-were-born sort of way that takes, So they sped aw: Rose up in the vale below, And sought the museum advertised As gi Thus matter triumphed over mind, For the “ ig And the “ strength, anicure.” O'ertook and captured him. She read hi And prc Was making the lady a tower of m a lesson long and loud, ed that the race they ran strength, And him a most muscular man, till the Jersey ‘Mr. Crow.ey Mas. CrowLey— spires ng a ten-cent show. podern Her Jes nt maid” in feats of ive of the surroundings. jo just what they please. JAMES CLARENCE HARVEY. dressing-rooms. BACK IN THE CITY. SpaxoLer—" I trust Mrs. Blenheim will allow me to renew the acquaintance so pleasantly started at Campobello ‘Mus. Buexuzin—" Well, hardly. You see. Mr. Spangler. the at the time was occupying my husband's attention at be his own cousin, and we have agreed to quit the playingoff Uusiness on each other: (meeetly) good morning. canting somewhat bitterly upon the disadvantages of tl ‘oung lady who ‘Saratoga proved PLANNING AN ESCAPE. Mua, Cnowtey —"I positively can't wear any such looking thing as th: * And imagine ine turning bandsprings with these on’ Let's go down to Narragansett Pier, where people are not s particular.” It was particularly cold, disagreeable and irksome that certain evening, and naturally the conversation drifted into ch: inels suggest alve by des. e Wallack Dongan opened the escape This brought Hopper to his feet, figuratively, in a lurid defense of the Wallackian article. “There is no use arguing with you,” he said, when he found that he couldn't bring Dongan over to his way of think- ing; ‘‘ you are constitutionally a crank, Charlie, and not open to conviction. Nevertheless I think you'll admit that, in comparison, our present abode is a palace along side of the rooms in the outlying districts. Take Chicago for instance. There's Henderson’s theatre, in which the rooms are mere boxes filled with rats and compressed pro- , and as for some of the places the east and south, they're la-las, ‘alking about rats reminds me of the time we played in Richmond. The theatre is literally infested with the animal. Itis a peculiar variety of ro- dent they have down there. They're bald-headed and. hopeful, voracious of appetite as a goat, and as lax in man- ners and principlesas a Detroit baseball player, Honestly, they are without hair or fear, and are the largest breed of rats I've ever run across, Going along the passage toward the dressing- rooms you'll meet perhaps two or three of these interesting specimens of Virginia product. They will not budge an inch for you to get by, and unless you are yearning to get into a rat con- flict and a southern hospital you will have to step to one side. “We were singing ‘Don Cesar’ down there. A part of my muke-up was a pair of huge slippers. I have been (Continued on tenth page.)