Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1907-07-05
THE TIPPING NUISANCE
III sssay Wthin and Wisheut ths
ThsatsrS Of Pasis. s3 N

III Sway Within and Wieheut tss
Thsatsrs Of Paris. 1850
"When q Partisan hits, on, the un-
happy idea of going to the theater,"
writes one Of them, She has to run
the gantlet Of a rare collection Of
nuisances and plunderers. First
there is the crowd outside the thea
ter, and then there is another gang
inside. 7t
"He must give one tip to the /.
coachman who drives him and an
other to the nimble person whQ
springs to open the carriage door,
even if, he opens it himself. Then
come the flower girls and the ticket
spectators and the programme ven
;ders. They stand in his way and
importune him. He has almost to
use violence to rescue his coat tails
from their clutches.
cat last the theater foyer swal-
lows him up. He is saved from one
barking pack, but new prosecutors
are ready. There is, first, the re-
freshment counter attendant. Won't
he buy oranges? No, he won't.
Then won't he buy candy for the la.
dy? No. Then maybe sandwich
to eat between the acts, and SO on.
Next to this plague comes, second.
the programme peddler-only au-
thorized and official programme, Of
course-and, third, the opera glass
man."
There is a fourth, too, but the
fourth interior plague of the thea
ter takes a great deal of space and
i'll temper to describe it. She is the
iouvreuss, the official box opener and
seat finder, the counterpart of the
usher in New York, but displaying
an itching palm and a very unpleaa- f.
ant disposition when not paid to be
genial. The ouvreuse is the worst
parasite Of the Parisianl theater,
and few indeed are they from whom !.
she fails to draw blood. 81 y,
Her hand is not extended until
the close Of the performance, but
she begins to get her fine work in
at once. Not that she makes any
pretense Of finding the boxes OF.
seats that the tickets presented to-
her call for. The kicker defes sny'
one in: Paris to come forward and
swear that she ever found his place.
for him. Nobody could make SUCH
an affidavit without committing per-
jury, he says. But what she does is
grab his hat and overcoat and walk
ing cane. These she locks up in a
chamber Of horrors which she calls
the cloakroom, and thenceforward
the victim is at her mercy. He cam
not escape without paying tribute.
It is no wonder that the ouvreuse
devotes more attention to collecting
her revenue than to seating the au-
dience. It is serious matter for
her. Not only has she to make her
living out Of it, but she must also
make up the quota Of "tha house,.
In one theater the ouvreuse pays :
francs, or $1.40, a night for her
privilege. Sometimes it is more or
less, but always somewhere between
5 and 10 francs, except in two or
three of the best theaters, which
have tried to reform the system.
One or two go so far as to pay a SAL
ary, but even in these there is such
a pleading look in the poor woman's
eyes as she surrenders ones light
baggage that NO man with tender
heart can keep his hand out of his
change pocket, He knows the wom-
an is under heavy expenses. She
must be sxpensively dressed in up.
to date style to keep her job. -
Bat Occasionally man will re-
volt. One tells how one June even
ing he went to a variety thedter'
alone. He lodged the ouyreuse, at:
. busy moment, slipped DOWN the.
aisle, found his seat by himseaf and:
sat down in it with an expression Of
unconscious innocence. AS it was
warm, he had no overcoat, and he'
hid his hat under the seat. All the
same, toward the end Of the per-.
formance the ouvreuse appeared
with outstretched hand.
"What for P" he asked. /
"For SERVICE" she answered. 1
"What service ?" i
"The customary service. !
"But you gave me none. Why
should I give you anything?"
"Oh, pardon" she explained in .
good audible tone. II did not rec.
ognize that monsieur was q dead