The Tipton advertiser., 1875-12-02
OUR NEW YORK LETTER.
How Actors Live and Die The
Literary PeDpfe-Tammany's
Extravagance-.Sujcide Busl.
ness.
New York, Nov. Gath, 1875.
HOW ACTORS LIVE AND DIE,

New York. Nov. 2ath, 1875.
HOW ACTORS LIVE AND DIE.
There are, Of the young men and
women who read your paper At least
q thousand who have been and are
crazy to get on the stage. They
have heard Of the wondrous costumes
the actresses wear, and of the gor-
geous salaries they all draw, and they
suppose that the life Of player is
one unending round of pleasure.
The few who do ''get on the stage"
find the difference between fancy and
fact in \ very short time.
1t is the hardest, meanest, most
uncertain and wretchedly paid bust
ness in the world. No one actor in q
thousand makes more than the merest
Subsistence, at his best, with the GER
tainty staring him in the face that at
the end-when he can act no more
of dying in an aims house, or subsist-
ing on the charity of younger ones,
who are almost as poor as himself.
There are those, of course, who make
immense salaries. Edwin Booth, for
instance. never plays for less than
$500 night, and Southern, Charlotte
Cushman, and dozen others CON-
mand quite as much. But you can
number this class ON the fingers of
your two hands. These are the ex-
ceptions, just as Stewart ard Clafin
are among merchants. The highest
salaries paid regular stock actors in
New York is 800 per week for
sea son Of nine months. Ont of this
sum the actor has to furnish his ward
robe, which, if pieces change fire.
guen,ly. makes a terrible hole in il.
Then he lies idle three months in the
year, and what is worse for his pocket
book, the very nature Of his employ
ment makes frequent expenditure
almost unavoidable. The most pru-
dent end of the year with nothing
nine tenths of them are always in
debt. And there is always ahead of
them two ghosts lack of engage
ments and sickness. Out of employ
meat 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 comedy
in that country, ami who was the es-
pecial pet of the mobility and gen,
try;' George Belm 1re, who kept all
England laughing for years-died
last week in a poor boarding house
on Fourth Avenue, dependent at the
last on the charity of his fellow-ac-
tors for the Cruel he ate and the med
icine he took. Not dollar in the
world, and q wife and seven children
dependent on him in London!
Who has not heard of Fox, the
pantomimist! Who has not laughed
at his wonderful antics, his merry
quips and quirks, and his endless
flow of fun. Poor Fox !! Paralysis
struck him at forty two, and he goes,
with never dollar to leave is family.
One side of his face is paralyzed, his
brain is sofening-ha.d work did it
and he goes out mere nothing.
Another pantomimlst stands ready to
take his place--the play goes on
enter Maffit, exit Fox And some
day out Maffit will go and another
will take his place.
loung men or young woman, as
the ease NAV be, II vou have any as
piratsons for the sage, crush them
there are ten Thousand blanks to one
prize. and of he prizes there is not
one in Thousand thar is worth hav
ing. 1t is nm ugly, unsatisfactory,
miserable life at the best, and u hor-
rible life for any one who cannot get
above decent mediocrlty. BE shoe.
maker, n tailor, farmer, black
smith, or the wife of one, but never
be an actor or actress. Take the adj.
vice of one who knows, and don't.
And while ! am about it 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.
Loagfeliow, Lowell, Holmes, Bret
Harte and q few others get large
sums for what they produce, but they
make but little money for they pro.
duce but little. Take dozen or two
out of the thousands who live by
their pens in the cities of New York,
Boston and iladelphia, and it is
worse than q dogs life. The usual
pay for common writers for stories,
newspaper articles and matter of this
class is from 81 to IS column for
such papers as the Times. The wri-
ter, work as he or she may, cannot
exceed four columns week, for a
large part Of the time is consumed in
getting up the material for the work.
And then, after it has been sent in,
it is an even chance that it will be in
clined, or if accepted, that it will be
cut down to column by the manag-
ing editor, so that the two columns
which the writer wrote, and for which
SIG was expected, will net the scribe
only IS. A good story, if it is good
enough, of say six columns in length,
is worth, to the publisher *25. The
writer will spend on the production
of such a story, week or two, or
even more. OF course, W zen they
get up into the world, and get so
well known that their names will bring
additional subscribers to publica-
tion, they get higher prices, but this
is what the few who get employment
at all are compelled to submit to.
And let it be remembered that Of
every thousand who submit manu-
scripts, not ten get line accepted.
There are to-day in New York alone,
two thousand men and women be-
sieging editors with productions in
prose and verse, who never had =
line published and never will. And
the few who get work to do starye
at it, for the reason tnat there are
thousand, all equally good, trying
for the place of ten. | advise YOUR