Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-11-30

NEW YORK, Nov. 2S.-At the corner Of
Blocker and Mulberry streets is a low
wooden shanty about four feet wide and
10 long. 1t stands directly on the side.
walk, and is apparently an clubhouse al
the old-fashioned brick structure adioin,
ing, but, in reality, it is entirely separate
The floor lies almost directly on the
ground, and the pipe Of the stove thai
warns it rises from the roof, the only
substitute for a chimney. On the SINGLE
door of plain boards is this announce
ment: 'Straw hats cleaned, dyed and
pressed, a speciality" When the door is
open, wooden sign containing the words
shat shop" may be seen inside. On the
wall old hats of various sorts and pat.
terms, including stove-pipes in the de.
licious state Of dilapidation that renders
them eligible for st. Patrick's day pa
rade, hang. A bed and cooking utensils.
with one or two bits of domestic furni.
ture, show that the shanty is occupied as
habitation as we'll as hat shop. The
shanty has but single occupant now
John COndTOn. drunkard, who spends
apparently hardly an hour in the q in
plying his trade as halter, and the rest OF
the time in qIarreling with his neighbOrs
His wife died about two months ago. Her
disease was consumption, FASTENED
doubtless, by poor food and exposure.
Worn out by poverty and hardship. the
woman died in this damp, cold hut, hardly
fit for dog kennel. That she would have
lived longer had her life been rendered
more comfortable, seems to 90 without
saying.
Sundays papers contained an account
of the sale Of the largest rancho in the
world. 1t comprised 100000 acres OF land
in Texas, and with it were sold 200. OOC
head of cattle, horses and sheep. The
purchaser was the United States Land
and Investment Company. The price
paid was $500, 900. Capt" Richard
King, the former owner OF the largest
rancho in the world, to whom this vast
sum was paid, is the brother-in-law OF
John Condr0n, the drunken halter. and it
was his sister who died tWOs months ago
from want and eXpOsure
To prove in a measure what | say, let
me tell you the circumstances under
which l came to know of the connection
between Mrs. John COndrOn and Richard
King. Half dozen years ago [ found.
one day, the sidewalk in Blocker street,
not far from Mulberry, blocked by lot OF
old furniture, which was guarded by a
sickly looking woman. The rain poured
down in torrents, and there, drenChed tn
the skin, she sat, on rickety chair, and
had been sitting for hours. She had no.
where to so for shelter. She had been
dispOssesscdl In short talk with this
victim OF l6ndlOrdism and the clements, |
learned of her relationship to King.
Whatever doubts I may have ut first had
as to the truth Of her story were removed
when red-headed, hOTsily -dressed fellow.
who had also listened to it, cross-eXam
ined her as to Texas geography and Ger
ia oil L -,
straight story" the cToss-eXaminer said
when he had ended his questioning, IL
used to drive cattle for Dick King and
know all her statements about him to be
correct. photography, too, is all right"
Mrs. CondrOn, in brief, said that her
brother and she came to this country to.
gether a third Of century ago penniless.
or the next thing to it. He had in the
course of time drifted to Texas to become
a millionaire by cattle raising, leaving
her to marry drunkard and live in
poverty. Her brother had not absolutely
forgotten her, but the occasional small
sums OF money which he sent her were
too few and far between to do much good.
His last remittance had been so long be-
fore that it had long since been exhausted,
and, as she had no money to pay the rent,
her landlord dispOssessed her.
After spending two or three days and
nights on the sidewalk with her furniture,
Mrs. COndrOn, | subsequently learned,
obtained shelter In some poyerty-stricken
lodgings which her husband, after search
ing half the city, finally procured. After
wards they moved to the shanty where
MIS-. COndrOn died.
The reason [ remember so much of the
conversation with the homeless woman.
which took place in the rain so long ago,
is, perhaps, worth relating. The fellow
who had driven cattle tor Capt. King
turned to me after his crOss-eXaminatiOn
of his former employers sister, and asked
whether | had called at the house Of a
certain Columbia College professor re-
Gently. Incidently he alluded to the
professors daughter as his cousin |
know the man better now. His cattle
driving was only a freak. and ne belongs
TO a good Virginia family, and is a clever
newspaper man; but his announcement
in almost the same breath Of being a
Texas cowboy and kin to the daughter of
one OF the most esteemed professors of
Columbia College, at the time struck me
with such aludicrOus sense Ofincongruity
that have never forgotten the circum-
stances connected with the statement.
IT Is WONDERFUL WHAT FUNNY THINGS
people will say when intending TO be most
serious. A young man who stood behind
Merchant of Venice by the Irving Com
pany at the Star Theatre, the other night,
remarked to his companion in patrOniz.
ing tone, "Shakespeare'S plays are pretty
good-when they are we'll acted!'' He
was evidently a cOckney, and his half-bred
British accent rendered his remark even
more deliciOusly obscure than it would
otherwise have been. Theodore Moss,
who ought to know better, was, by the
way, once guilty of a similar absurdity.
liz an announcement OF Shakesperian
revival at Wallack's Theatre, which he
sent to a newspaper Office here. he alluded
to Shakespeare as lone of the greatest of
English dramatists," which was certainly
q decided case of damning with faint
praise. The newspaper man to whom
Moss announcement was given to reWrite
resolved to give Theodore q lesson, and
he, accordingly, changed ''0ne of the
greatest OF English dramatists' to shin
whom Buckle called the greatest Of the
sons of menp
The Star Theatre was crowded to the
doors the night l heard Shakespeare sc
patronizingly spOk N of. Although 1 got
there comparatively early, two Of the
very worst seats in the last row of the or
chestral circle were all l could get, and
the worst of it was they cost as much as
those which are good.
ELLEN TERRY COUGHED CONTINUALLY
while she was on the stage personating
S. POrtia," and although the Britisher next
to me announced ''Terry ALWAYS has a
cold, you know' her cough seemed tC
spring from something more serious. Ii
did not, however, interfere with her act
ing, which was all that it has been de
scribed. Her lack of mannerism or Of
stage ways is wonderful. Her gestures
are at once unaffected as they are grace
full. Irving, indeed, has mannerisms sui.
fcient for his entire company, but, for all
that, in single scene, when he is on the
stage alone, and simply crosses it with.
out speaking, he always receives more
applause than all the rest put together.
After the elopement of ''Jesslca" a band
Of masquers, with cOl0red lanterns.
screaming and laughing, rush across the
stage, and the curtain falls upon a scene
of lie and animation. 1t rises imme-
diately, and discloses the stage dark and
deserted. Irving, as "ShylOck," advances
from the rear, crosses bridge, approaches
his house, and, after knocking twice,
stands with an air of confident eXpecta'
ton on his face, as he waits for his mer-
cenary daughter to admit him. The cur
tain falls as he waits for the daughter
who has gone forever. Hardly anything
more impressive than his attitude could
be imagined.
wanted to finish this letter without
speaking of politics, hut Mayor Edison, by
his attempts to forestal his successor by
the appointment of Police Commissioner
French to succeed himself, and of eX-Al
derman McGlare as Police Commissioner
in Col. Mason's place, has prevented me
Whether the Mayor is legally right or moi