Show World (July 1909)

4 THE SHOW WORLD July 10, 1909. NELLIE REVELL; HER OWN GABALOGUES New York, July 5. Dear Bunch: This is the Monday after the Fourth, and its one of those holdover celebrations—everybody you meet has to have a balanc¬ ing pole to help carry all the pa¬ triotism (that’s a new name for it) that they ab¬ sorbed yesterday. That’s why I am up here in a bal¬ loon, to get away from the fire¬ works. What a pity it is that those idiots, in¬ stead of shooting off fabulous sums of money, won’t spend it upon some poor little chil¬ dren who are sweltering here in the city for a breath of fresh air. I got up in a balloon to get away from all the noise one of ex-Policeman Bingham’s “finest” giving the high sign to the Knight of the White Apron for about three fingers of third rail! Down the line further, Grant’s tomb stands out bathed in the moonlight, while a lit¬ tle way above sparkle the lights of the Claremont Casino—the Quick or the Dead. A View of the Hudson. On the bosom of the broad Hud¬ son one of the Albany and Troy boats is chug-chugging her way up by Spuyten-Duyvel, seated on her upper deck a band of merry minstrels are making night melodious with “I Wish I Had a Gal”; the broad searchlight swinging from side to side, playing peek-a-boo with the scenery along the route, bathing the rocks in a great white light and making the trees stand out like dark sentinels in the background. Gee! but it’s good to be way up here in the Pan Handle of the Hemisphere, with nothing on your mind but your hair and an un¬ sprained disposition to drink in all at the barge office. What thoughts, hopes and fears are in the hearts and minds of this motley throng can only be surmised. Further down the bay, the Statue of Liberty, made famous by Bartholdi, waves aloft her flam¬ ing torch, welcoming all to the “Land of the Free and the Home of the Frankfurter.” The statue stands there alone in all its grandeur and mag¬ nificence, showing the world the entrance into the promised land. In¬ cidentally, she has a New Jersey to her back. Over Bayonne Way. Below here we strike Staten Island light, showing the waters of the Kil- von-Kull, wandering lazily along to¬ wards Bayonne, the headquarters of the Standard Oil company in the East, showing on their surface that water and oil will mix if the Standard is on the job. Standing out in the moonlight are the docks of the Mu¬ nicipal Ferry that will always be fa¬ mous as the thing that made it pos¬ sible, for George B. McClellan, the present mayor of New York, to de¬ feat Wm. R. Hearst, for the mayor¬ alty. The buying of this ferry by the city under McClellan changed the political future of this city, if not of this nation. The little 1,200 majority secured by McClellan in the Borough of Richmond, was the majority he se- will, Bunch, it seems good to be back. A good old Bally-Hoo, with a stneli of the sawdust, will always be as wel¬ come to me as the sound of the bugle to a war-horse. Who is the best clown in the circus? Answer—A New York town clown. Send me the medal. Speaking of circuses, what do we see on fop of the Dreamland Tower? Nobody but Wells Hawks, press agent for Dreamland, standing along side of Sam Gumpertz, the gen¬ eral manager of Senator Wm. G. Reynolds’ big show by the sea. Ev¬ erything new, but the waves, and they haven’t the price of admission—thfy go broke against the bank. Crossing the way, we see Luna Park, with its towers, merry-go-rounds, swings, loop-the-loops, shoot-the-cbutes, tick¬ lers, tea gardens and turrets. Fred B. McClelland, with a smile that is child-like and bland, bids the strangers within the gates welcome to Fred Thompsonville. Further along, shine the lights of Brighton, Manhattan and the Oriental. With the eye of the swinging light, far off on the Highlands, bringing up messages of joy and gladness from the incoming liners, the lights of Rockaway now catch our vision, while further away, standing out like bea¬ cons of peace and joy, may be dis¬ tinguished the lights of Far Rock- Examine the airship closely as it circles over the Astor roof and you may detect a woman at the helm, making a noise like Nellie Revell. and racket. I can see a lot of funny things from here. I wish I could see the finish of this vaudeville mix-up. I bet you the day we fathom that there’ll be a lot of us going up in airships. Say, Bunch, what do you think of me way up here “over all the circuses in the United States?” Guess Little “Nell o’ the Lots” is way up here among the celestial pictures, saying, “Hello” to the stars, and playing the Milky Way circuit—guess I’ll have to send Fred Thompson the C. Q. D. sign from this "hot air” route. This is a good thing to push along—no opposition on this circuit, but the Wright Brothers, who are now play¬ ing Washington time. Gee, but things look good from here! Over in Orange I can see Thomas A. Edison work¬ ing on his new storage battery, way to the North Palisade park, perched high on the Jersey palisades, I can see a soubrette singing a comic song that is so funny that the audi¬ ence has all departed for the “juice joint.” Over at Fort George kids flying around on the merry-go-round, Columbia crew rowing in the Harlem river taking their last practice spin for the big race that takes place at Poughkeepsie, and, horror of horrors, this loveliness! Off to the west I can see the Hamburg-American and North German-Lloyd piers, with the big Kaiser Wilhelm de Grosse, the Cleveland, the First Bismark, Kron- princes Cicele and a long line of mon¬ sters of the deep tugging at their hausers, anxious to plow the billows between here and the Fatherland. The cool wind from off the Jersey marshes brings faintly to my ear “Der Watch am Rhine” played by one of the liner bands. Silhouetted against the sky, on Stephen’s Point, stands the old Stephen’s homestead, now ten¬ anted by the celebrated sculptor, Earl Bitner; down in the offing, rocked by the lazy tides, lays the yacht Cor¬ sair, J. Pierpont Morgan’s big pleas¬ ure yacht; farther down the line sparkle the lights of the Lackawanna Railroad station; while still further on the lights of the Erie, Pennsyl¬ vania and Central Railroad of New Jersey bob up and down on the water like so many fireflies or “jack-o’-lan¬ terns.” A little further, on we see Jersey City, of which rumor says, “It is not a city, but a disease.” Stand¬ ing out against the sky-line, we see the buildings of Ellis Island. From where I am I can see one of the big liners discharging her cargo of souls cured over Hearst and was the key¬ stone of George McClellan’s success, and the In Memoriam of the polit¬ ical future of Wm. R. Hearst. Way up on the height of Stapleton we hear the beautiful contralto tone of an or¬ gan carried on the evening breeze, whispering in our ear the soft tones of Sir Arthur Sullivan’s “Lost Chord,” played by the velvet hand of William Nelson Cromwell, president of the Borough and father of the Panama canal. Further along, we see the waters of the bay racing along to join the ocean, through the Narrows, guarded on the Jersey side by the guns of Fort Wadsworth and pro¬ tected on the New York side by the frowning monarchs of war situated in Fort Hamilton. Standing out on the skyline are Randall & Swin¬ burne’s islands like grim sentinels, guarding the welfare of the city from the skeleton of disease. Around the bend we see Sea Gate, with its beau¬ tiful cottages and villas, big hotels, beautiful lawns, and white sandy beach, reaching along until it joins Coney Island. The Land of Bally Hoo. Here we are once more in the Land of the Bally-Hoo, and say what you away, Edgmere and Averne. Across the bay, Barren Island looms uffllw some huge, dark sea monster, P“ ! going along like a procession of$w flies, the Brooklyn Rapid Transit trains can be seen making their W filled with noisy merry-maker®! the way to the beaches. Pat Carrenville, bathed in moonligW looks awful good from this little airship. The statute of Henry Wa* Beecher in the yard of the coat 1 ' house tells the assembled multitw that they are in the city of churche Down a few blocks, I can see grM® being broken for the new 0P e, .| house that Oscar Hammerstelft < building in the Land that Goilp got, but Pat McCarren found. B The East River. Now we come to the bunch ® “Carrie Nation cocktails,” called !! New Yorkers the East River, with* multitude of bridges, ferry doc® sugar refineries, navy yards, and # home of the historical Gowas" Canal. While I was - looking a|* jumped into the Kowanus Cana drown himself, but bounced back t land and was killed with a fracW* skull. The Brooklyn bridge, with" (Continued on page 20.) V