The St. Mary banner., 1910-04-30

and even if each of them wants to be
lieve in his inmost heart that his owl
city has more good theatres in it thar
all the rest of the world put together
they all must at least admit that New
York is pretty well supplied with ia.
cilities for amusement. Eighty-seven
theatres and some half thousand NOV
ing picture and cohcert halls ought to
| be enough to accommodate a few of
| der for entertainment
Any one who likes to play with fig
ures can work out all sorts of combi-
| nations for himself He can take the
number of amusement places in the
city-call it 600 in all-and then get
the average attendance and the aver
age number of performances a week.
Then he can multiply them all togeth-
er, divide into the population, add a
pinch of salt, set on the back of the
many times month every New York
er would have to go to a show if all
the inhabitants of the city went in
regular rotation. Somebody worked
that out for once a week apiece. That
is merely suggestion.
New York may have too many the
aires. but in spite of that fact the
population manages to keep most Of
them in solvent condition. Ameri-
cans, it is said, always rise to an
if fhof ic fr,,o tho
good folk of Gotham have been rising
in force for the formation of de-
mand to meet the oversupply of stage
stuff now on hand. And all in all
they have managed pretty well.
From the Bronx to Coney Island
they swarm out at theatre time, thou
sands upon thousands of persons, tired
or gay, as the case may be; some 60
ing merely to be entertained and have
their minds taken off the days work,
others to be set a-thinking. If one
could but stand in a score of places
at once on week day evening, or
even on Saturday afternoon, and see
New York turn out for its entertain
ment, he would see a strange diver
sity and yet stranger sameness.
A fare of flashing lights, brilliant
white, ever changing, never quiet,
sparkling with red and green and or
ange and yellow, but white through it
all, with the shrill of policemen's
whistles below as the automobiles
roar and jerk, and then roar and pass
on again. A street black-thronged |
with hurrying persons, passing and |
under the glare of the
lights, with the simmer and glow of |
silks and satins and the soft warmth |
If befurred cloaks. Gems, and here !
and there cleaning shoulder, ban
ter and char and gayety. And above |
Ill the endless move, move, move of |
he restless crowd, marching and
and at last pouring
n through the high doors of the play
houses that line both sides of the tur-
noil. That is Broadway at theatre
ime.
Those are what the managers call
he first-class theatres. All the first
lass theatres are not on Broadway,
Tor are all the theatres on Broadway
irst class, but it is there that the
audiences pay 81 and more for seat.
nd 1t is there that the newest and
'est productions generally receive
heir metropolitan beginnings. OF
curse there is the opera too, which
means more silks and more satins-
nd more money as well-but the
eople are practically the same.
Eighth avenue, Fourteenth street
nd 125th street present a different
icture. There one finds the vaude-
lille and burlesque shows at their
est. The lights are there-just as
right, but somehow not the Broad
'ay lights, and the noise is there, and
he swirl of the passing throngs of
leasure seekers; but something is
ifferent. Not that the sound of mo-
,r-cars has given way to the clang
the more prosaic trolley, or in any
ther inanimate thing, but in the peo-
le themselves. They are more often
couples now, younger couples, and
le eyes of the girls and women look
red. That is because they have
cen working. Only here and there
3es one see a silk hat or evening
othes, and the satins and cleaning ]
are not so many. But t
'mehow that is made up for by a '
appier spirit in the crowds as they t
i'm in under the glaring lights of l
le theatre doors.
Then one must go to Third avenue c
I'd the Bowery-and the Bronx and b
rooklyn and many other places o
r now it is melodrama and vaude- l,
lle-burlesque of a still different s