Evening journal., 1888-06-11
QUEER PEOPLE WE MEET.
AN OLD PHILOSOPHER TALKS ABOUT
THE HABlTuES oFTHE THEATRE.

Boy.
A slnslh nervous looking man Of uncertain
age was standing at the street entrance OF a
down town theatre few evenings ago.
There was popularity in his appearance
which soon attracted the attention Of re
porter. Despite abe mans strongly marked
countenance and whitened hair and beard,
which were neatly trimmed, he was rather
foppishly attircd and carried light gold
headed cane. Presently as the crowd began
70 gather the slumbering energies within him
nwoSe. As each person passed him and en-
tered the theatre his sharp, searching black
eyes carefully scanned his featules and then
turned to the next conner.
The reporter approached the old gentle
man and engaged him in conversation. The
stranger turned, looked at him steadily for
momsnt and then extended his hand with q
warm, impulsiye smilo.
'You are a reporter, I believe" he said
Gam | Mistaken
The reporter moiestly admitted that he
was
II am very glad you are, sir, very glad;
fer can show you something here that win
make a very readable article. The study Of
human nature, sir, Is always interesting,
and you caS get no better photograph OF all
like TO have me point it out 10 youi All
right; come into the lobby. It's better point
for observation. Ny name is Bond, ii YOU
want to know who ann
THE SUDDENLY RICH.
"Do you see that man therefr snid Bond.
presently pointing to one who wore the ap-
pearance Of wealth. "He comes here rs he
does elsewhere, with that air OF confidence
aud certainty which grows with success
But, apparently, in the requirement Of riches
he has acquired nothing else You will no.
tice that he appears TO be known by people
rather than to them. Now, behind him is
quite a different character. He is an habitue,
or regular playgoer. Observe the way he
holds his ticket between his thumb and fore
1 finger, ready for the doorkeeper TO tear or
the coupon. He has been there before. He
knows everybody and everybody knows him,
as the many bows and smiles OF recognition
which he exchanges show. Yet his air is a
quiet one, and everything about him an
nounces a man OF the worldn
MIR. Bond ceased speaking and stood IN A.
lent revery for a moment or two, white the
crowd thickened and the reporter Thought OF
Dantes vision and the endless stream OF shnd-
owy forms and faces which tho mysterious
guide pointed out aud described Then Bond
broke ont again:
Here comes the dudes and mashers, with
their small heads and big cauesl SEQ how
conscious they look and how they stare at the
ladies' as they enter. They'll ocle the act
resses, too, when tho curtain goes up. There.
one Of them has stopped to whisper to an
usher. III wager he is asking how he can
get behind tho scenes, or may be inauiripg
the address OF some young woman in the cast.
He would be ashamed to let his parents or
friends know Of the vulgar curiosity and the
basenoss which inspires it, and sometimes he
is foolish enough to confess il to others. tell
/ you, my young friend with an emphatic
/ pressure of hls listenea arm, s'the class to
which those young fellows belong does more
harm 70 theatre than one would think. and
tho system they follow has often demoralized
members Of very good companies. would
like to have my say about them, that's ali.
There was another short pause and then
Bond continued, this time more calmly and
with less feeling; Here comes a character in
marked contrass to the others lie Is the
professional or man Of letters; possibly poor,
but always a gentleman. Education invari-
ably tells Good breeding and thorough
knowledge Of the ethics of polite society are
passports anywhere, my young friend. and
the theatre. This man never comes early.
like the bald heads and the dudes, nor late
like the society people. He always arrives
just at the right time"
THE AWKWARD RUSTIC.
"Still another early conner, whom don't
see here tonight is tho countrvman. He
comes TO see the show, which will be some
thing TO talk about when he gets home. His
inexperience, however, quickly gets him into
trouble Perhaps he viii buy his ticket with
ont any misunderstanding, but he is sure to
mistake the parquet for the balcony. and to
be sent back TO the place his ticket calls for
without exactly knowing why. Even then
ho is apt 70 get the orchestra, dress circle and
parquet all mixed up, and the only way out
OF the difficulty is to return to the box Office
As general thing he is by no means sat
isiied with the explanation he receives there,
and finally takes a seat somewhere tired out
and disgusted He wouldn't come again if
he was paid for it."
BY this time the curtain had been runQ M
and the two were about to 20 inside when a
rumble Of carriage wheels was heard, aud
the reporter was urged by his friend 10 re-
main little longer as the carriage drew up
TO the curb with flourish and deposited its
load.
'Ihis Is the society young man, whose
greatest Importance is confined to the space
his well dressed body fills in tho world
Never regarded as brilliant, nor, indeed, ns
anything elsa than an amiable, good natured
fellow, he has now matured into a biase man,
with Vivian Greyish air, talks with an i'm
becile drawl and looks at everybody as
though terribly bored. You SEQ, they are all
alike,n as others followed in quick success
sion. "Such natures have no individuality.
Most Of them, you VIII observe, arc accom-
panied by ladies. Poor girlsl Ttdoes seem a
little hard that they should be confined by a
conventional narrowness TO ths society Of
such men, who simply test thair endurance,
and ar~ unable to appreciate anything ASIDE
from what IL governed by their own innate
selfshness
"Tho pleasantest feature OF all about this
vigil at the theatre door is the small boy, y
continued Bond after a brief silence "He
never has any money to buy ticket and
knows he can't get in without one, but be Is
not Disconnected. He waits until the first
act is over, and when the men come hurry
ing out TO see friend next door the small
boy watches for his chance. Occasionally g
check is dropped from some careless hand.
Then the small boy quioszy picks It up and
hAstens into the temple OF his greatest happi-
ness. Should the doorkeeper ever deny ad-
mission to the small boy on those checks the
ofeEse Is never forgiven. Poor small boyl
Grief, like happiness, is relative after all,
and no ago is exeEnpt from either. New