Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1882-09-22
NEW YORK NOTES.
CIVILIZATION AND BARBARISM
SIDE BIZ SIDE.
Wed-A Prince of BOhemia-The Mena-
gerie Headgear.

New YORK. September 21.-The encampment
of Gypsies who are employed in the produc-
ton of THE Romany Rye" or the Gypsy Gen.
tlemsn of Booths Theatre has thrown the
neighborhood into a state of palpitatiug ex-
element. The effect is most noticeable among
young women and girls, which is quite natural,
for the Gypsy has been associated with ro-
nance in their minds from their nursery days.
To get sight of this unusual scene-for nomad-
ic tribes do not often pitch their
tents in the heart Of great
city-I strolled out to the encamp-
ment yesterday afternoon. 1t is on a rocky
common, near Central Park, which has for
merly been sacred to goats which browse on
bill boards and tin cans. At one side in striking
contrast to the squatty tents an apartment
house, eleven stories in height, rises into the
air. A philosopher who was calmly surveying
the scene remarked that here was Civilization
and barbarity" for you side by side. The inte-
rior OF the board fence presented an animated
spectacle. Tents were pitched in confused
way on rocks and hillocks, and the wagons
were drawn up in Semi-circie back, of which
horses we're tethered and switched their tails
The lords OF this little realm were attired in
Watstcoat and trousers, and viewed the visitors
In disinterested sort OF way. They looked as
untidy as the rag plckerS who prowl through
the streets at night. The women stood In front
Of their tents, hailing the young women as they
passed. They did not look romantic in the
least but greasy and frowsy. Nevertheless,
young ladies were lured into their tents to
learn their fate. During the revelation the
curtains were drawn, while the crowd outside
gaped at the tent curiously. There
was a profusion of children and dogs
Ono red haired little girl was perched
upon rock washing some clothes In a tub.
No other work was going on. The crowd in
creased as the afternoon wore away until the
AnCamnmPnt hOrn RI
fair. The visitors jostled one another; the old
wien faced gypsy women were busy in their
tents telling fortunes; the children played in
the dirt; the horses switched their tails; the
dogs growled; aud the lords smoked their short
pipes and enjoyed their ease. These scenes, 1
was told, are repeated eye-Y day.
IN The bicS t5e9 t5a Ihe R9@any Rye
their appearance, was produced for the
first time last night. 1t was what expec' ed.
The party l was with retired to the street sew
eral times for fresh air and to get relief from
the bowling on the stage that tortured our
ears. Sincere people are praying that this will
be the last of the dramas Of the penny dread.
full" sort. 1t is universally condemned by the
press, as it deserves to be. There is no plot to
speak of. 1t consists of a series Of episodes
strung together, as they would be in poorly
constructed novel, Of character to admit Of
realistic stage plctures and. in fne, 1t ls quite
plain that the play was written up to these
pictures. Views of low life are presented, such
as of a gypsy encampment, mot as interesting
with all Of its fine scenery as the real one on
the rocks at Central Park; OF a squalid garrett
inhabited by professional beggars; of a street
in crime infested neighborbood on the banks
of the Thames, and of the interior OF an under
ground thieves den. 1t must be said that the
realism aimed at has been reached, but it was
shocking to all save the coatless and collarless
gods in the gallery, who howled with delight.
The closing scene was the most ambitious and
successful stage picture have ever seen, and
it would be almost safe to say, ever presented
in New York. 1t presented the breaking OF a
ship to pieces on the rocks in a storm and
rescue in q small boat. Great waves rolled up
seven feet high, throwing sprays In their fury
several feet higher still. 1t is finer piece of
mechanism than the famous raft scene OF ''The
World" Yet should the stage be given up to
the ingenuity or the stage carpenter don'5
know that Shakespeare ever shed tears, but if
he should rise from his grave and visit this city
just now 0here are several OF these stage
carpenter pieces running), he would bury his
fine nose and eX pansive forehead in his hand
kerchief and cry big tears.
One of the most notable old beaux of the
metropolis is about TO give up his Bohemian
way OF life. This perSon--is no less than Mr..
William Henry Hurlbert, the editor of the
World. 1t is true that of late years he has not
been decided man Of fashion, but what a
figure he cut in his young bachelor days when
there was no need of hair dye. He was always
faultlessy attired at that period Of his life ac-
cording to the latest fashions from Piccadilly,
and the neatness of his collar, cravat and
gloves could not have been improved upon by
professional dandy. Women called him hand
some and men admired him for his wit and con-
versatienal powers. To get Mr.. II. at dinner
party or reception assured its success. II he
had not been the brilliant man he was his
matchless department alone quite up to our
old friend, Turneydrop, am told) would have
made him an ornament Of society. One or two
novels written at the time he was at the food
tide Of his social career contained portraits OF
him which we're so true to nature that they
were easily recognized; The rising, journalist
and iierateur did not object to
this, but rather enjoyed this distinc-
ton. He does not seem to have been
impresstonable, however, and he gradually
settled down, as his hair grew white, into the
life Of the single gentleman who at last finds
his greatest pleasure in his pipe and slippers.
His apartments in the University Building,
in Washington square, have long been famous.
Those who have been admitted to them have
told wonderful tales Of their Oriental splendor.
The love that should naturally have gone to
some woman seemed to have been bestowed
upon Persian rugs, Turkish divans, brio a-brac
and rich tapestries IL he had only q ser
want Of sable hue as bis valet and pipe
lighter, who would submit to having
boots, slippers, brushes and things Of that sort
flung at his head, this dream OF happiness
would haJe been complete. Mr.. Hurlbert did
not withdraw from the world entirely, it must
not be inferred, but he was no longer the pro-
fessional beau. For several years ne has sedu-
lously devoted himself to his paper. saw him
the other evening and could not but remark
the difference between his personal appear
ance and when first saw him. Then he was
rabneF Tall ana JTlIl WIN lu4urIRnt Qark Drown
locks smooth complexion and dark eyes; Low
he is stout, his face is round and has sugges-
tion of g cd WINE in 1t-not rubicund, but rose
ate, and his bald head is surrounded by a
fringe of gray hair His meustache is also gray
and bristly. His old sUave manner and uncti-
BUSINESS Of speech are gone; but these return
when he is in full dress and in the mood for com
pany. At his Office he is untidy and irritable.
Although he has passed through these personal
changes-and who does not change as he grows
oldl-his pen has remained as ready and grace
full as ever Without doubt he has the
most distinctive literary style of any
editor on the metropolitan press This
little history has been INDUCED in, because it
will serve to explain why the announcement
that he had resolved to quit Bohemia. after all
these years has created a sensation. When
Whitelaw Reid, of the Tribune, was married
people were not surprised at all. He had
always kept up dapper appearance, swung
his switch cane, and courted the society OF
ladies as persis'ently as a professional ladies
man But William Henry hurlbert!
The feminine mind is just now absorbed with
the subject Of hats. This Is not such an un-
profitable employment as a cynical man might
thnk-this time, at least, it is not for it in
wolves study of natural history. II the natu
raj history features Of the hats now hung up in
shop windows had been designed by somebody
who had charitable desire to spread knowl-
edge in covert way, instead OF by Partisan
man-miiliners, am not sure that they would
not rebel. In point OF dimensions hats, am
told, are to be both larger than ever and
smaller than ever Quite paradoxical but the
explanation is that they are to be either at one
or the other extreme. SO the Gainesborough
has grown bigger in spite OF the crusade against
it by theatre-goers last winter, and war has
already begun upon it this season. realized
myself, only last night, at the Fifth Avenue
Theatre, what an obstruction even a little
woman may become in great hat. A little
woman with nice plump shoulders sat directly
in front of me with a hat so big-well have
seen parasols as big in my day. I
wriggled around in my chair in a
vain effort to get a view of the
performers. If Theo, the celebrated Parisian
opera bouffe singer, who has created a sensa-
ton here, had not cut her pretty capers all over
the stage, would have despaired of getting so
much as . glimpse Of her trim figure. few
seats to the left sat another young lady, with
a spreading hat encircling her fair face-yes,
encircled, as it hal the popularity of hariDg
up in places ana curling over 10 other places
1t had witch crown. The man behind her
could not conceal his annoyance,
and swore, sOttO Uoce, all the way
through the opera. Here is what hat
may have on it; an owl with red eyes ami a
sharp, hooked beak, standing upright in front
above the eyes Of the wearer; mice of all coll
OFs, white, grey, brown, black, are nestled in
the silk aud velvet trimmings, or crawl on the
crown in search Of crumbs OF cheese, presum.
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