The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-07-20

through a whole evening either dependent
upon your luckier enighbor. or absolutely
unable to know anything at all about the
details of what you have paid to see.
Most of the London pitties take their
degradation stolidly. They are used to 1t.
They may even grow to like 1t, as eels
may get to enjoy being skinned. But II
you want to feel thoroughly cheap and
out Of everything go to the pit. II you
want to experience the sensation of be-
ing looked down upon, I say go TO the pit.
AS an experience It is delightfully."- in
structive. 1t would be something quite
new to Americans. And IL you find that
you can't seas It frequently happens
that you can't, for the pit is perfectly
fiat and hats are worn with impunity-
you can generally find somebody who for
a ''tlp" of 2, or cents will squeeze you
into some more desirable position. You
have probably spent 10 cents for your pit
seat, and you have been furtively permit
ted to see a show from a grimy, gloomy
and disagreeable locality. No matter
how gorgeous a theatre may be, 1t al
ways looks the same from the pit. You
can't tell whether you are at Her
Majesty's. or the Royalty, at Days, or
the Surrey. Al Theatres look alike to you
from a pit seat. All audiences are the
same, as well. You Sc in every pit the
same collection of respectfully subdued
and aristocratically reverent folks, eating
chocolates from paper bags and occasion
ally indulging in cups Of hot coffee which
are passed round between the acts, for a
neat consideration. How they can stand
1t don't know. I am a theatrical enthu-
siast-Fd give up my last cent to the
theatre and breakfast on bread and water
but could not go, yearin and year out
to the pit. unless I became anarchistical
and morbid. When you go to the play
house you want to be made comfortable
Everything that cheerful surroundings
can contribute you have a right to de-
mand. The pit costs quite enough All
you get in return is the half-grudged
permission to see IL you can and go hang
II you can't 1t Is the irony OF impertI-
nence.
OF course the best places In London are
remarkably expensive. A couple Of stalls
cost S5.25; you can reckon a dollar for a
cab, as your feminine associate must go
nude to the shoulder blades. and buses
are impossible. Then come two programs
fo- a quarter, and your companions wrap.
which must be left in the cloak room for
sixpence-payable in advance. il you
please. My argument isn't that we should
all go to the stalls. That would be alb
surd. contend that the pit should be
made less disgraceful; that you shouldn't
be asked to leave your comfortable room
for bare walls and dark, beastly Access
sories' that the artistic soul should get
some respect, and that you should be
made to feel that you are appreciated.
even minus a bank account and a social
position. It would be inane TO say this
in London. I am saying 1t in New York
The pitties here are used to their fate
Some Of them would. l feel quite sure
take OF their overcoa,s. a Ia Walter Raj
eigh. and lend them to the queen Of the
stalls to walk over. presume that Il is
quite possible to cultivate a taste for be-
ing walked over. Personally, l should Mt
care TO try. Even IL ! can't AFFORD the
best. ! Ike 10 feel that l am getting
something near IT Life is too short for
such petty discomforts as are inflicted
upon the theatre-hungry nobs OF London.