St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1893-11-26

" WHICH L reI6r. FOr instance, Cney
will listen over and over again to things
about Maggie Murphy and her home
with
"An organ in the parlor
Jast to give the house tone;
And you're welcome every evening,
At Maggie Murphy's home"
"My dear Mr.. Laterday." spoke up
Robert Browning, Il never heard of
such person as Maggie Murphy"
Il don't doubt that in the least" re-
piled Laterday, because the trouble
about you and your advocates is, you
never heard of anything outside of
small circle of dreamerS and rhapSodic
adorers. And as for your poetry, Mr..
Browning, three-fourthS of the people
who read it do not understand it. No, l
do not doubt it at all. that you never
heard of Maggie Murphy, because if
you had, you would have turned her
Eospltable home into deep. metaDhys-
cal study of intellectually, and made a
poem OF half a hundred pages out of it.
This was more than Browning and
his champions could stand, and they
got up and left the auditorium dis
guSted.
'Gentlemen," said Mr.. Laterday. after
the confusion which Browning and his
followers had occaSIoned had subsidized,
musicians, as well as many of our mod
ern critics of both musical and dramatic
affairs. too many of you have lived lives
In hiding mysticism and mystery,
beauty and ideality where there has
been none. The same as in the case of
Henry Irving's recent production of
Thomas Beckett at the Columbia
theater. The production was an iuier-
estlng and pleasing series of pictures
and tableauX, but nothing to rail and
rave over, and find idealism in its every
scene. Il was simply what the Herald
claimed it to be at the time. and what
the New York papers have since said il
was. You know, old gentlemen, as well
as |, that your old-time heroines never
lived and were hardly possible charac-
ter as you pictured them. Such as Syl-
via, Phyllis and Chloe l refer to.
Those kind of herolnes won't wash i'll
the minds of our public today. You
poets know that you just imagined all
those thing about them and caused the
lmpreSsible world to go looking for the
impossibly perfect beings of your
poetry. We must have life-like he
rOines and heroes in poetry today, such
as Two Little Girls in Blue, or 'Peggie
Cline.'"
"Peggie who?" asked Franz LIT. the
pianist.
"Peggie Cline, heroine of modern
popular ballad. Give me Peggie every
time in preference to your Sylvias,
Chloes or PhYllises. She's real, prac-
teal, and of the everyday sort. Such
as she have sentiment and no poetry.
What would our world of today think
of such abundantly lovesick damsels as
| Ophelia Or Juliet? 1t would much pre-
| fer such an one as nimble-heeled Lottie
| Collins. queen of swell society
Not too young and not too old,
Not too timid, not too bold
Just the kind for fun, I'm told.''
Being reasonably well satisfied with
| his argument TO the old poets and COM
posers, MIR. Laterday seated himself,
and general hum of comment on that
gentleman'S argument followed
who is that fellow, anyway" asked
Wagner.
Why, that's a theatrical manager
named Will j. Davis, who has made
| quite fortune recently" was the reply
| given.
"a manager? Why 1 thought there
were only two managers. and their
names were Lou n. Scott and Henry
Abbey" said Wagner.
"There are also Jacob Lift, Frank
| Bixby and j. F. Conklin, are there
| not?"
Yes. and there is another; his name
| is Charles Locke
! "Locke?" said Wagner. Oh, an ex-
cellent manager; played in Cincinnati
| several years ago. Great musical peo-
pie those Ohioans."
played them, you mean," said Don
| izetti.
"Oh, Abbey. [ remember. He's the
fellow who used to cut the duets out of
| my opera of 'Semiramide' and make
| Patti and Scalchi sing them Ill concert.
| Well, he's little better than was the
| old Metropolital opera crowd in New
| York"
All SAID Wagner. They were i'm
| pressarios.'
Not at all. They were stoekhold-
| ers."
The stockholders paid their debts,
| anyway. which many an impressario
failed to do" said Wagner.
| but they lost good deal more
money Oh you, both in New York and
when Theodore Thomas played you at
the worlds fair this summer, than they
ever did Oh me-" said DoniZett.
What are you quarreling about?"
| asked Balfe.
| Don't you Italians know that Abbey
| lost nearly $500, 900 trying to put you on
in New York once?'' There was ST.
lence. Hate to talk about myself"
went on Balfe, but nobody ever lost
| money on The Bohemian Girl.''
''Ihey couldn't" said Donizetti. at
doesn't need any voices or important
orchestra parts" At this Baltic pulled
| out his shillelah, and was about to
strike Donizetti on the immense crys-
anthemum which ornamented the right
| lapel of his coat, when Gluck interposed.
All! The good Mrs. Thurber, who or
| ganiZed the old American Opera COM
gon of artistic taste. She played my
'Orpheus and Eurydice.'
And burst up" said Balfe. "Gen.
tlemen," said Beethoven, when my
| opera has been given"
lit hasn't paid the gas" said Men
| delssohn.
"Ah, you opera composers" spoke
up Chopin, You make mistake; my
music"
About three concerts in season in
Chicago"
well. they pay, don't they?" said
Chopin.
The man who manufactures the
piano." said b alfe. Take nv The
Huguenots,'" burst out Meyerbeer.
There's work that is played oftener
than any other"
land loses more money!" added some
one.
"Ah," said Rossini, things are not
as they used to be, when Col Mapleson
was in his prime. Grand opera don't
seem to be appreciated like it was
then"
NO" said Donizetti, when he used
to play my Lucia and La Favorita'
and Linda"
None of them would ever be sung
nowadays if it wasn't for Patti or Emma
Eames," muttered Balfe.
.! believe" remarked Bellini sarcas.
tically. there is an opera called La
Sonnambula' that is popular.''
with debutantes," said Rossini.
''They can't sing my muslc.n
'What about Don Giovanni?'n asked
Mozart.
'''fhey can never get a satisfactory
cast for it," said Balfe. besides. IT'S
| confounde0fy absurd"