The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1911-05-18

Old Broadway" flashes out in yachting
suit to take spin In yacht that is not,
frisks over to "Coney Island by the Sea-"
and winds up In the last act at lobster
palace.
If he doesn't do any of these things, he
poses majesticalIy before a stock-ticker,
becomes increasingly nervous as the ma
chine clicks out its grist, finally sees a
quotation that is supposed to mean a loss
to him of more money than Monte Cristo
ever dared to contemplate, and falls in a
fit while mumbling that his hated rival has
ruined him In order to prevent him from
claiming the hand of Miss Astorbilt.
It's indeed a great ife-this New York
Gfe-as the newspaper dispatches and the
stage represent it. It is sometimes pretty
hard to tell what either presentation will do
to rural community. Twenty years ago,
for instance, a Nevada youth went to see
show in Carson City. The show was that
old classic, "The Two Orphans" In the
cast were extremely few persons besides the
orphans themselves, as railway transporta-
ton and board were both high. But the
show made up in scenery what it lacked
In cast. One scene, in particular, appealed
to the chuckle-faced youth. 1t was scene
In which the two orphans were sitting on
the steps of Trinity Church. The snow was
drifting down over their thin shoulders.
Broadway was thronged with pedestrians.
Horse-cars few along at eight miles an hour.
Nobody looked at the orphans. But the
orphans, silent as little sphynxes, looked
straight straight up the street.
There was Broadway! The infinite skill of
the scene painter seemed to have carried
the street clear to the horizon. Nothing but
buildings and people and people and build
ings till they blended, at the finish, into an
indistingt1ishable haze of paint.
The Nevada youth could hardly keep his
seat. The painted scene had fired his mind
with an intense desire. He must be off to
New York. All during the show, which he
saw not, though he looked straight at the
stage, he kept his eyes riveted to the splen-
did vista of Broadway. The whole thor
oughfare seemed to him to be treasure
house of opportunity. Surely, in all this
double row of buildings, there was some
place in which he could get a job. Put him
down where the two orphans were sitting
and nothing could beat him. He would
keep going and going and going; and, by
the great horned spoon, job would have
to come into his hands before he stopped,
or he wouldn't stop! That was the beauty
of New York, as he then saw it. The place
was so big that boy looking for a job
didn't have to stop. Always, there was
some other place to go.
Family affairs were such that this boy
was kept in Carson five years. Then, the
sweep Of the current carried him to San
Francisco. He found work. Did well.
Did as well as any Of the young men in
his line. Everybody liked him. He liked
everybody. Everybody was therefore sur
prised when, after year, he spread the
word that he was about to go. New York
was calling to him. It had been calling to
him ever since the night that he saw the
painted picture of Broadway. He could
dream and wait no longer. He must see the
real.
Kind friends accompanied him across the
bay on the Oakland boat and saw him
aboard the train. In month, letters began
to sift back from New York. Was it a great
place? Why, it was the greatest place that
ever lay out doors. San Francisco, in COM
parison, was a mere collection of dugouts.
No man who had the brains of watermelon
would stay in California fifteen minutes if
he could raise the price of ticket to New
York. Already had job that couldn't be
duplicated anywhere else. Almost ashamed
to take the salary-but he took it.
The NezU arrivals First Sensation
In a year he returned, for a short visit,
to San Francisco. He wore plug hat, a
short coat, and slight Eastern accent. The
plug hat was bluf-the short coat was not.
He didn't wear plug hat in New York at
all. He wore one on his visit to San Fran
cisco because he knew it would be the
quickest way to advertise his success in the
East. As a matter of fact he had had no