The evening world., 1894-09-14
"oN THE BowERY."

Hand me the collection OF Hully
Gec's!" and the choice lot OF tobacco
wnds that gathered at the Fourteenth
street Theatre last night. for ! would
he king OF the toughs. mother, would
be king of the toughs. steve Brodie
was the star, and ION the Bowery"
was the more or less play. and the
atmosphere Of both star and play was
deliciously, rapturously tough. oh !!
that | had left my coat at home and
sat there in my pure white shirt-sleeves
oh! that could have enjoyed tobacco
chewing revel. As II was, had feel
ing at FIRST OF being out of II, though
before the evening was over | had
mastered the art Of crying "Iully BccN'
with the rasping vehemence of sincerity.
Avaunt. Nine. Janauschek and ye
writer's of grievance letters, who pro-
test against the invasion Of the stage by
Steve Brodie and his ilk. BY protesting
too much, me friends, you arouse the
sympathie OF many for the invaders
You don't want to do that. Give them
their innings. They won't hurt you
They can't act and the don't try to do
So All they want Ia a chance to pose
as freaks in theatrical setting "A
shade higher perhaps, than Jo-Jo, the
dog-faced boy. or the fat yet three
Legged girl. To be sure you can see
these last attractions for very little
money, but you don't care about lucre.
For listen to this Mnd permit me to
say "Hully gee" in brackets), the crazy
folks who are silly enough to pay
dollar or ffty cents to see Mr.. Brodie
Mt the Fourteenth Street Theatre could
have had the privilege for five cents
on the Bowery a few weeks ago. The
five cents. besides admitting one to a
glance at Mr. Brodie, included a glass
of froth, yclept beer, and free lunch.
Yet Mr.. Brodie's saloon. l believe. has
never been uncomfortably mobbed.
Folks wait until he becomes a col
league of Henry Irving and Sarah Bern
hnrdt-to say nothing Of James j. Cor
bett and John Lawrence Sullivan-be-
fore they feel that they must see him
or die. Do you wonder. me friends,
that there are speculative managers
ready TO star Anything. when theatri-
cal frame Is all that is necessary to
pinnacle the most preposterous un-
worthiness. It's all your fault. hully
gee!--and not the fault OF the man.
ayers.
Do not let US fret at Steve. however
Those who see him will never fret
again. That shining, polished face,
that biue-black chin, those piercing
eyes. that remind one 30 tenderly Of
the plums in n cake-it Is impossible to
forget them. Mr. Brodie does not act
He simply stands behind the bar, his
own coy, unique. admirable, hn de
steele, bridge jumping and money-win-
ming self To see him Is not to hate
him How many OF our leading men
could tend bar as Brodie does? How
many, say, could do It with such
Duse-like ease2 Could John Drew. or
Herbert Kelley. or Il. IA. Sothern, or
Henry Miller succeed? I think, me
| friends. that you will all agree with
me. and answer no-three times no.
Pardon me for forgetting ION the
Bowery." On second consideration, don't
| pardon me, simply rejoice, for 1t Ia
worthy OF sweet forgetfulness. All that
I can remember, n few hours after hav-
ing seen II. IL the fat, fat villain. who
rolled on the stage like "A balloon, and
did ineffably villainous things. beginning
with the robbery OF n safe, and then
planning the death of n most estimable
young feminine person. The second act,
however. In the best. for that gives you
the feeling OF toughness. of hully- gee
ism, of shirt-sleeved luxury, and OF
Tobacco o chewing comfort The odor OF
decayed 30 wdust tickles your olfactory
nerves, and you experience the exquisite
| fraa1nr, nf tho Slunmy One cry ont