The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1875-12-01
OUR NEW YORK LETTER.
New YORK, November IS, 1875

NEW YORK, November IS, 1873.
now ACTORS LIVE AND DIE.
There are, Of the young men and
women who read your paper at least
u thousand who have been and are
crazy to get on the stage. They
have heard Of the wonderous cos
tunes the actresses wear, and Of the
gorgeous salaries they all draw, and
they suppose that the life of a player
is N unending round of pleasure.
The few who do get on the stage"
find the difference between fancy and
fact in a very short time.
1t is the hardest, meanest, most
uncertain and wretchedly paid bust
ness in the world. Not one actor 10
a thousand makes more than the
merest subsistence at bis best, with
the certainty staring him in the face
that at the end-when be can act no
more-of dying in the alms-house, or
subsisting on the charity Of younger
ones, who are almost as poor as him
self There are those, Of course,
who make immense salaries. Edwin
Booth, for instance, never plays for
less han $500 a night, and Southern,
Charlotte Cushman, and a dozen 9TH
ers command quite as much. But
you can number this class on the ing
ers Of your two hands. These are
the exceptions, just as Stewart and
Clalin are among the merchants.
The bigest salary paid regular stock
actors in New York is 500 per week
for a season Of nine months. Out Of
this sun the actor has to furnish his
wardrobe, which if the pieces change
frequently, makes a terrible hole 10
il. Then be lies idle three months in
the year, and what is worse for bis
pocket, the very nature of his EN-.
ployment makes frequent expenditure
almost unavoidable. The most pru.
dent end the year with nothing
nine ienths Of them are always in
debt. And there is always ahead OF
them two ghosts-lack of engage
mems and sickness. Out of employ.
ment in his profession, there is moth.
ing under heaven for him to do, and
sickness means starvation. A noted
English actor named Belmore-a
man who stood first in eccentric com
edy in that country. and who ives the
especial pet Of the mobility and gen.
try - George Belmore, who kept al
England laughing for years-died
las: week in a poor clearinghouse
o. Fourth avenue, dependent at the
last on the charity of his fellow-ac.
tors Cor the cruel he ate and the med
icines be took. Not a dollar in the
world, and d wife aad seven Children
dependent on him in London,
Who has 40. heard of Fox, the
pantomimist Who has not laughed
at his wonderful antics, his merry
quips and quirks, and his endless
how of fun. Poor Fox. Paralysis
struck him at forty-two, and be goes,
with never a dollar to leave his fami.
ly. One side Of his face is paralyz.
ed, his brain is sottening-hard work
did it-and be goes but a mere moth.
ing. Another pantomimist stand,
ready to take his place-the play
goes on-enterM afit, exit Fox. And
some day out Mafit will 60 and
another will take his place.
Young man or young woman, as
the case may be, if you have any as.
| piraiions for the stage, crush them
out at once. The life is one in which
there are ten thousand blanks 10 one
prize, and Of the prizes there is not
one in q thousand that is worth hav.
ing. Ii is an ugly, unsatisfactory,
miserable life at the best, and a hor-
rible life for Guy u who calnot get
above decent mediocrity. BE a shoe.
maker, a tailor, a farmer. . black.
smith, or the wife of one, but never
be an actor or actress. Take the
advice of one who, knows, and don't.
And while ] am about il | may as
well say something about another
class who are popularity supposed TO
roll in purple and fine linen, but who
don't, namely,
THE LITERARY PEOPLE.
As is the case with The theatrical
profession, it is generally supposed
that the writers get enormous pay,
and the mistake is just as great
Longiellow, Lowell, Holmes, Bret
Harte and a lew others get large
sums for what they produce, but they
make but little money for they pro-