The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1915-08-26
HAMMERSTEIN BIDS
GOOD-BY mid RUINS
Last Curtain Rung Down on
Home of His. Early Dreams
i'm Victoria Theatre.
NEW OFFICES PREPARED

A dreamer OF dreams is Oscar Ham
merstein. His keen practically has
always been tempered by sentiment, 80
1t did not surprise a few Of his friends
to learn recently hat amid the ruins of
his old Victoria Theatre. where he bull.
and rebuilt several fortunes, a structure
now being torn down. he chung desper-
ately to the dilapidated office where so
many Of his dreams were born.
The noise of the workmen's hammers.
OF many years as 1t settled on his desk
did not disturb him. Oscar sat day after
day In the little room on the top floor.
his teeth fastened in one of the cigars
that he had made himself and forgotten
TO light. with who knows what memories
OF the old days shifting beneath that
quaint high hat as he looked down into
the square.
Oscar had sat in that same seat. the
lights of his headliners blazing beneath
him, when Times was Longacre Square
and the Victoria was the centre of
vaudeville going New York. Those were
the days when he had ideas so fast they
wouldn't let him sleep, ideas that he was
supremely confident would reap a golden
harvest. ideas that set New York gasp
ing and laughing more h once. He
Kept many OF them bottled up for years.
while Duse and other great actors ana
actresses futtered IN and out OF his door
beneath and made the Victoria the most
profitable theatre in the city. And then
! tlaN "a fnNth In nNn nnAFnflN ventura
after another.
The ceiling was removed from owe
his head. the walls from about his room.
but the man with the hat, the One and
Only Oscar. sat tight and chung TO the
old days. In that room his past tri-
umphs and failures. equally impressive.
had been begun. and the dreamer in him
made the parting almost impossible.
Finally came the day when the floor
was removed from under has feet. the
last of the corner of the building where
he wen used TO sleep was smashed by
the wreckers' hammers and Oscar was
driven to the street. lie moved his office
10 the lobby Of the Republic Theatre,
which he also built In the old days, but
he couldn't stand IL. SO he went back
and under the remains Of the wall on
the Forty-second street side placed his
desk on a rickety floor and hung his
coat ana nat on a piece OF TIMBER. Inelt
VAS no roof over his head. but II II
rained he had "A big umbrella handy.
Yes. the old building Is going fast
he said with "A wistful sort of smile when
a reporter found him there. They
tried 10 get rid OF me. but | wouldn't 20.
Afraid OF getting sick out here in the
open air? Huh I've got to work some
where. haven't I? IL | didn't work I'D
die. But I'm not dead yet by a Ions
shot. Maybe they'd like to get rid OF
me, but I'm in the game for ell while al
any rate. JUST let them watch out
that's all I can say.
Plans? Well, they do say that We
may 40 to war with Germany, There's
been a lot OF rain lately too. But to-
days a fine day, - II not 500
With hat the little man jumped up
clapped his famous silk hat on his head
and BUSTED forth for a ear.
"Tll catch IL from my wife II I don't
get home pretty quick" was his fare
we'll word.
Yesterday was his last day among thu
ruins Of his old theatre. New offices
w been fitted up for him In the Forty,
fourth Street Theatre. In strangc sur,
%roundinGs Oscar will dream his ole
dreams and maybe some new ones. bu
whatever he does is likely to be inter,
esting.