Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-03-14
Special Correspondents of Tn. Evening Star

| tive belief, that Edwin Booth is demented.
The great tragedian's acquaintance in the
Players Club have been questioned by your
correspondent. Of course, they would be slow
to admit his insanity. if it were true, but they
were SO quick to Indignantly and positively
| deny the assertion that there should remain no
doubt at all of his mental health. The report
arose, undoubtedly, from the fact-quite pal
pable in Booths acting this week-that he ID
| very infirm physically. He is a taciturn man
by temperament and of late he has been a ver-
| table hermit in his apartments, which are in
the upper part of the house which he gave to
| the Players Club. He has denied himself to
most Of the few men who are nearest to his in
timacy. and has restricted his personal inter-
course to Mrs. Goodman, his only daughter.
| He has gone to and from the theater in a car
rage, into and ont of which he has had TO be as
sisted, and several times. while alighting at the
stage door, he has not recognized ever SC
| knew we'll
All these things have impressed the actors
who have consequently agreed in accounts OF
Booths dementia.
| wRETCHEDLY BAD HEALTH.
The truth is that wretchedly bad health has
increased Booths taciturnity. but he is no,
crazy. The end Of his career on the stage ID
at hand, however, unless contemplated
| trip to Europe for sanitary change and medical
treatment should cure him of his malady (Which
| concerns his digestive organs). He was on pro-
fessional tour in December last, when weakness
compelled him to stop acting. His last few
performances were carried through with diff
| Guilty. Then he returned to this city, with his
| mind made up to attempt no further work.
But he and Lawrence Barrett had taken the
| Broadway Theater for twelve weeks and it was
| at heavy loss that Booth was spared for about
two-thirds of that time. 1t is the remainder OF
! the term that Booth is now struggling manfully
but feebly to bring to fair conclu sion. One
week more remains. Then he wilt cease all
exertions for the season. The visit to
Europe has been planned for him by
Barrett, who regained for himself marked
relief from serious disease by recourse to
| German physicians, but Booth has not YET
promised explicitly to CO. although urged by
his daughter, who would accompany him. An
American professional tour of few big cities
has been planned for Booth to make next sea
son. but great gain OF strength will be re-
| quisite if he prefers it. His impersonations
this week have been so weak as to be almost
pitiful. Friendly critics here let his genius re-
main unassailed or have only limited at the de-
terioration, but the audiences have been
readily impressed by the wreck of his power.
collapse has been anticipated every night,
and close observers will be happily disap-
pointed If 1t does not come before the ensuing
week is ended.
| ACTORS WHO HAVE GONE CRAZY.
The mistaken discussion of Edwin Booth as a
demented actor comes simultaneously with the
violent insanity Of Anna Dickinson, and the
theatrical people inevitably discuss the cases
| Of John Mccullough, Tony Hart George f.
knight and several others Ito name whom
would be cruel. because their cases are not vet
hopeless) who collectively make singular
| showing of recen: dementia among actors
Within five years no less than eleven American
PLAYERS have gone crazy, and in that number is
| included no one whose mental trouble arose
| from alcoholic excuses.
There is no doubt" said Dr. Spitzka, the
| specialist, that the long-continued assump-
ton Of other individualities than ones own,
| and especially il the impersonations be those
OF engrossing kinds, has a tendency to produce
| morbid condition of mind in an actor. l
have no personal knowledge of any Of the cases
you mention, but it is entirely possible that
mania may result from the work Of an actor Z"
TICKET sPEcULATING.
Something nearer to the business of theatre
Gals in this city is the new crusade against real
and pretended speculation in tickets. The
managers are still in disagreement Some sim
cerely desire to abolish the sidewalk pedlers
and do it effectively by refusing to accept at
the door tickets bought of the hawkers Others
wish to do away with actual SPECTATORS, but
| maintain their own mock spectators, thus
| getting from so cents to a dollar or two extra
| for the best seats when crowds come. But the
question which most interests out-of-towr
readers, If they visit New York, is whether the
sale Of tickets in hotels at so cents apiece adj
vance is to be continued. Careful inquiry
by the writer makes it sure that on
the average throughout the winter sea-
son 5000 tickets day are sold at
the news stands Of the Broadway hotels
In other words an excess over the advertised
price amounting to 5000 week is taken
from those land majority are strangers) who
buy at the hotel stands The curious feature
| OF the traffic is that the theater managers get
no share of this profit. They place the tickets
on hotel sale and take back all that remain I'M
| sold at fifteen minutes before the performances
begin. Only one manager in New York. Au-
gustin DAILY, defies the hotels and refuses to
supply tickets to them. The rest are afraid of
losing the hotel contingent of auditors. One
man leases the ticket privilege along with the
news stands in most OF the big hotels His
name is Tyson, and he has grown rich at it.
son Of the late Lester Wallack is in the bust
ness, too, but Tyson is almost a monopolist
He has to yield up the greater part of the in
come to the landlords, however. and II is into
their pockets that about three out of every
four Of the extorted half dollars 20. The thea
ter managers think that hotel guests should be
accommodated without the exaction of any
tribute, or of very little. As there is not jot
OF risk taken by Tyson it seems that
dime per ticket would be liberal demand for
the mere service Of handing out ticket and
taking in the pay. The abuse lies chiefly on
visitors to the city, and it is outrageous
THE sTAeE-DooR IDIOT.
Some of the most diverting occurrences of
the stage are outside the rear door. pretty
girl and timid looking one was recognized by
fellow as an actress. II was after the per-
Torrance and she was alone at night. That
made 1t all right in his opinion to insult her.
He followed for some time and turned after
her down an unfrequented street leading to a
little Bohemian restaurant, where she was to
meet some professional friends At the sound
OF footsteps and voice she gave quick cry
OF terror and turned. The same instant she
controlled herself like the trained actress that
she was and looked up with pretty expectant
smile, as though she had dropped her glove or
purse and this gentlemanly stranger desired to
return it to her.
Il beg pardon" said he.
"Yesy' said she, as though sweetly puzzled
to think what she Ind lost
Il think have met you before"
1t was the old chestnut The girl did not
move nor did her smile fade.
What did you say?" abe asked.
He felt slightly embarrassed and repeated,
awkwardly. 81 think have met you before"
Her blue eyes twinkled; she held him with
them like poor 1y stuck to the wall by shin
ing pin. When the cold drops were beginning
to form on his forehead she answered Grayely.
''You know. really think not
He had to LIT his hat humble an apology
and turn around and 60 back. The little street
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