Life, 1900-02-08 · page 12 of 20
Life — February 8, 1900 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "How We Do 'Em" - Life Magazine Satire This is a satirical sketch about theater box-office management during the production of "The Dirtiest Ever," apparently a contemporary theatrical production. The humor centers on the absurd letters and requests flooding the box office from various New Yorkers seeking free or discounted seats. The satire mocks both: 1. **The theater's desperation** - they'll accept any excuse to fill seats 2. **The public's shamelessness** - people invent elaborate sob stories (divorces, medical needs, book deals) to score free tickets The illustration shows a crowded tenement building where residents are literally stacked in windows, suggesting the overwhelming volume of requests. The caption "GEE! I BET DAT FELLER HAS TER WEAR HIS FADER'S CAST-OFF CLOTHES!" adds class-consciousness humor about poverty-stricken theater-goers. This satirizes both Gilded Age theater economics and public entitlement.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
"LIFE * How We Do 'Em. A DRAMA IN € Scene I, >IME.—Anno Domini the year of NE ACT. “Anno Domini” means our Jesus Christ), .— The Lobby of the Sheenlicate Theatre, A na row re which stands a line of persons in prison file, In the win- dow a nose is seen. First Crtizen.— What seats havo you for tho first night of reindore, bef “Tho Dirtiest Evor” ? ‘TickET SELLER.—No seats, You'll hef to write a letter to the menedgement. (First Citizen falls out and takes his chances crossing Broadwe T would like two scats for tho first night of “Tho Dirticst F ‘Ticket SeLten.—No seats, You'll het to write a letter to the (Second Citizen falls out and takes his chances crossing Fifth Avenue.) Turnp Crtizex,—Have you threo seats for the first night of “Tho Dirtiost Ever”? Ticker SELLER.—No seats, menedyoment. Turn Crrizex.—Why ? ‘Ticker SeLLEn.—Dot mek’s no diffurence, a letter to the menedgoment. You'll bef to write a letter to tho I've got tho money to pay for them, You'll bef to writo managers of the Sheendicate, handsomely attired and rearing large diamonds, First MaNacen.—Vell, poys, we'vo got to gif up do zoats vor der virst nido uv “Der Dirtiest,Efer.” Der blay’s a fake, und der actors is bum, but der newspaper fellers hey done what dey was paid to do, und efry pody wants to seo der show. Here's a letter from Hishop Potter, He wants three seats. SECOND MANAGER.—All righd, ‘Tell him he can hev two seats if he'll wear bis uniform. PF. M.—Here'’s a letter from Mrs, Blot de Scutchcon, a box. Turap Maxacer.—Gif it toher. She kept der vamily chewels ven her busband got der divoreo, und she'll vear ‘om all. Meg it a stage box. F. M.—Here’sa letter from Kembridtch, Messojowsetts—dot's an Insult—signed Charles Eliot, und vun, from New Haven, signed Arthur Hadley. Osxes—Nefor heard of em, Tear 'em up. F. M.—Und, vot d'you tink? Here's Tottio Coughdrops; she vants five seats, x Omnes.—Goot! Gif ’em to her, Tottio’s a nice girl, und vears good close. F, M.—Und Ikey Grabalsk!, der bookmaker, vants a box, —Git itto’im, Tkey's a good man to kyow at der track, . M.—Horo’s ono from Dr. Parkhurst. ‘Threo seats. —Dot's all ride, lack under der gallery somevere, M.—Dis is vrom John Knickerbocker. T. M.—Nefer mind, Tear him up. Knickerbockers dou't count no more, F. M.—Chudgo Goff, He wants two. 8, M.—Gif ‘em to him—good vuns, Vo don't know ven we mide get pinched. F, M.—8eth Low—he vants three. T. M.—All ride, Way back, He don’t cut no ice now, F. M.— Und hero's a letter from Isaac Wansenpulver. five for himself und bis girls, T. M.—Git him middlo aisle, sixt’ row. Ho's Kosher und do girls vill vour dete chewolry und deir big hats. F, M.—Der Keptin of der Precinct vants three, Omxes.—Git him five. Wo need dor police in our pizness, F. M.—Now, poys, I put aside eighty of der best vuns for der sbeculators, Blease count 'em,'coz among bartnors it vos ulvays best to hef everything open und She vants Vants ‘Turmp Crrizex.—But you adver- tised that thia sale would bogin at niny o'clock this morning, Why shoutd I,an American citizen, bavo to writo a letter to your Sheondicato munagement ? Ticker SeutEn.—OMcer! D'bis man is maging a breakage of der piece! (Third Citizen falls out, with a policeman's hand on his collar, and takes his chances against the average New York Police Justice.) Ne, The private office of the Sheendi- cate, A table covered with letters and symmetrical piles of theatre tickets. The walls of the office consist of cages, through the bara of which half-starced actors, actresses and American dramatists look hungrily at what is going on outside. About the table are seated the well-fed “GRRL LBET DAT PELLER HAS TER WRAR U3 PADER'S CAsT-OFP CLOTILES 1? abut board, (iWhie they count First Manager steps teenty tickets from @nothry pile into his inside pocket.) F.M.—Androw Carnegie, to vants a box. 8. M.—Gifitto him, He gits his name in der pabors. F. M.—Der Editor of Lire. He vants two seats und sends der money, Osnes.—Gif him a box und send in a case of Ruinart Brut und a box, of Garcia Perfectos, He's a goot vrient of ours, F. M.—Here's der feller wot wrote der play vants a seat fer his vife, Omnes,—Tear it up. Ve ain't in dis pizness fer our healt’, F, M.—All der rest is Kosber. T. M.--Dot's all ride, Gif ‘em der best der is und send der rest to der hotels, Metcaize, comicbooks.com