Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-02-27

T dollars and who has
ga made every cent OF that
n sum in the ten-cent
~ Amusement. business 1t
would be a betrayal of confidence TO tell his
name. But he Knows his business, that Is
sure, and he goes forth not as a blind man, but
as a disciple of a new principle IN foreign
theatricals. This man has spent the greater
part of the past year in London. lie declares
that he has st udied the people who so to the
big music halls, who crowd the pits and tho
galleries of the high-priced theaters. and who
| have put fortune into the pockets OF Barnum
and Bailey, Buffalo Bill Cody. lmre hiraify
and two or three other venturesome American
managers; and. following the lead of those
| men, but on scale literally so
| cheap as to astound the Briton. the
new Spectator will proceed to make another
| half million. In short. he is going TO place IN
| the very heart of London dime museum. lie
is going to bill it ont of sight. he vows; he
| is going to advertise in the daily prints with
such apparent prodigality that even SIR Au-
gustus Harris viii gaze in open-mouthed won
der, ana. finally, he is going TO give the I'M
tutored English public a most iellcltous intro
duction to the curio and freak worlds which
| form SO large part of American amusenents
| today. The speculation is bold one: 10
divorce the London masses from their old love
| of the music hail, with its ever handy hquld
| refreshment attachment; to take them away
from the pit. with it's privilege of a free voice
| in praise condemnation; to make them be-
| lieye that the strangest things IN the circus
side shows can be seen for ninepence, is the
| task which this nervy manager has set before
himself. He says he can win success. He
knows the objections which face him. He can
| overcome them, he says, but he wont tell
how. But this he does promise. however.
| Inside of a twelvemonth there will be in Lon
don an equivalent of the American dime
| museum. 1t will have the hourly variety
| performances common with us; IL viii have
| the greatest of the freaks. among them many
who were shown to gaping crowds by Iarnum
| at Olympia; it will have wax figures to COM
pare with those at Nine. Iussaud's; it will have
| the standard English dramas acted In forty
five minutes by actors who have played In the
best and biggest OF the London theaters;
| ali these it will have for ninepence or there
| about How can they get away from me-
\ asks this bold innoyator. In give them
\ ten times their moneys worth. They We got
| to support me. III get the freaks, too.
| III take over there Jo-Jo, and III pay
| that dog-faced boy $500 a week-think
of it, fl2O-and where's the leading man or the
| leading woman in London who earns as much
| as that for a weeks work! Moreover, I'll have
| a sworn copy of Jo-Jos contract with me
printed in the advertising columns of the news
papers. ii give them Mliile Christine, the
two-headeG black girl, who has never in her
life worked for less than 500 a week. I'll give
| them UnZie. another hiSh-priced one. And III
give them Circassians tack eaters, frog eaters,
| glass dancers, snake charmers. Zulus, turtle
| boys, Ablnos, strong men, chest expanders,
| hard-skull men. iron lawed women, stone
breakers and hundred other more or less
| 'fakey curios. I'll make the Circassians over
| there to save Storage money. fright
| wig well CREASED will make nue
Circassian for any museum. I'll manu-
! facture my Albinos there, too, with
white wigs and pink colored eyes. II can lind
the right men, also, L Il get up my own elastic
skin freaks and 'hard-skulled men, I'm look
| ing for half a dozen cocaine hends and NOR
| phine eaters i'll London, too. / want to make
| human pincushlons out of them. They
very thick with US. you know, but lately the
public has turned EN- down They'll go in
London, though. You can torture a good
cocaine iend elegantly without any objection
| from him. anu 1t sets the people crazy.
But the variety par; of my show will be
| straight. I've laid plan that must succeed. L
can afford to pay the performers big wages,
because they'll work only for me, not doing
several turns at the music halls, and SO lessen
| ing their nightly expenses considerably. The
| only doubt expressed by those with whom
| consulted in London was on the ground of my
financial responsibility. I've settled that by
depositing a good sized sum in a leading bank
ing house, and have their guarantee as to my
| worth. The performers in London need no
| other assurance. Money talks there, here.
! All this Is brand new thing for England, but
why shouldn't it payI"
| THE ORIGINAL DIME MUSEUM MAN.
| Well, why shouldn't it; i. pays in America,
surely. There has never been a day in the
past twelve years when the dime museum bust
ness in this country hasn't been enriching ten
or a dozen men who were shrewd enough to go
into it early and keep at it systematically and
| shrewdly. Yet oddly enough. the pioneers of
| the l0-cent-show world were not its most sab
stantial beneficiaries. 1t was in the fall of 1876
| that George b. Bunneli with no less a person
| age than Phineas Taylor Barnum as partner
| opened the then new American Museum in the
Bowery- For week or two failure seemed to
| threaten the scheme. All of q sudden
the masses appeared to awake TO the fact that
| a theater show was before them at 10
cents. People fairly poured into the place.
| Floor after floor was added to the store hall.
| The upper stories were rented to make room for
| the increasing audiences. Ten thousand persons
| were considered only an ordinary daily show
| ing, and Barnum once offered TO take an oath
| that on one Christmas day and night 80. 600
people had passed through the place. IL was
| In a bad location. too. Owney Geoghegan had
his dive next door. All around were question
able resorts. Yet SO great the curiosity
produced by this new sensation that it became
| the proper caper" to visit the museum. Fifth
avenue private iveries crowded their way
among the Bowery drays and pedders
wagons and stood before the museum doors.
Samuel j. Tilden has gazed in admiration
at the massive features of the fat woman and
| before the cage OF an ordinary GATOR Bun
nell got up the first Cat show while the scheme
was fresh-Lester Wallack has stood and salts
fled his curiosity. This spot was the very
cradle Of the American 10-cent museum. from
which have sprung the many nervy managers
who have almost unconsciously aided 10 create
a revolution in the amusement world.
Bunnell was quick to see all the possibilities
of the new order of things Fearful that the
mint would moi always coin for him he decided
| to get all the currency at once. He hired halls
and opera houses in Brooklyn, Jersey City and
two other towns, and thus started the multiple
| museum system In Brooklyn Bunnell tried
for the first time the experiment of giving two
! dramatic performances at cheap prices and il
\ was q 60. At the same time he gave Jersey
City its first taste Of ''hourly vaudeville per-
formances by the cream of the variety pro-
fession," &c. To be sure Bunnel and his fol-
| lowers lost caste among theatrical managers.
They were sneered at, naturally, but they made
money, and az they made money the galleries in
the high-priced houses lost it. Imitators
| were fast upon Bunnelrs heels. H. L. Jacobs
was one of his first rivals on Broadway, but he
had q partner who was drag upon him, and
until that partner died Jacobs was not conspic-
| nous He began to grow rich when after q
contest with +. y. Proctor TO secure the lease
OF an Albany theater. Jacobs and Proctor went