The Billboard 1906-03-17: Vol 18 Iss 11 (1906-03-17)

12 The Billboara MARCH 17, 1906. MANAGEMENT OF THB PARK =" S By Frank J. King. (Written for The Billboard.) DVICE is the cheapest thing in the world. Anybody but an attorney or a physician will give you as much as you will accept, absolutely free. So I shall not attempt to advise, but rather will give you a few reminders. My park experience has been gained as an employee, and, therefore, I have had unlimited opportunities for observation. I find that the most successful parks are those where the management takes an interest in every feature, every attraction and every concession. Season of 1902 I was at Delmar Garden, St. Louis, where things were nicely managed. But side attractions—of which there were many— would bave fared much betier if the manage ment had the same sysiem in use at the “OChutes’’ in San Francisco, where I put in ten months in 1903, Both of these resorts have immense theatres, seating in the neighborhood of five thousand people. At Delmar, the performances were given every night and Saturday matinee, running right through witbout intermission, except the time necessary for changing scenes and costumes. The theatre is nearer to the exit than it is to the *“*Midway,’’ and after performances I have heard thousands of people say: Don’t let’s go to the Midway twnight; we'll came out some other time.’’ Now look at the ‘‘Chutes.’’ Performances in the theatre every afiernoon and night. At the middle of the program there is an announced forty-five minutes intermission—usually lasting an hour—every person leaves the theatre; they stroll around, they visit the cafe, they shoot the chutes, they visit the Zoo, they get to every quarter of the resort, and it is up to the talkers on the side shows and the people in charge of other attractions and concessions. They at least have their chance. The sooner a manager recognizes the fact that everything within the enclosure tends toward the financial success of the resort, the better it will be for him and his associates or employers. I once saw a park electrician hurrying to an flluston show, where his services were needed, when he was stopped by an assistant manager. The electrician told him where he was going, and why. The assistent manager said: ‘Ob, let them wait; we only get 25 per cent. out of that joint.”” So the show waited, and an audience was dismissed with their money refunded. An hour later the electrician came nd in thirty second had put in a fuse and the show wae all right. But next night I heard people say as they passed: ‘‘Don’t go in there, they keep you waiting in the dark a long time, then turn you out without e@ show.’’ Bad judgment is frequently used in presentfree acts. Don't bunch the free attrac If you have several of them, scatter them. If you have only one, give it a central position in the midst of the pay attractions. If you have fireworks displays don’t have them off in a remote part of your park, near a street car exit. If you have no better place, give the display early in the night. I bave seen much harm done by parades. At one of the best resorts in the middie west, last season, there were six of the shows depending on Ballyhoo and openings. Once or twice, or even oftener during a day and night, I have geen the five minute parade of the ‘principal ettraction’’—a fine band and twenty-four members of the company, in uniform—come swooping along, carrying everything before them, breaking up bally-hoos and breaking the hearts end tempers of the talkers and performers. The remedy is simple, and, at the same time, profitable to all concerned: It is very easy to have negularly appointed times for the ED. E. DAILEY Mr Dailey is the popular press agent of the Gentry Brothers’ Shows. performances of the main show. Give the parade ten or fifteen minutes before the time. If you have a 3:30 show, let the parade go at 3:15. Hold to a system, If you have a parade listed for 8:15 don’t start it at 8:10, or 8:12, or 8:20, or any other time but 8:15, then you ean have full sway. The other shows will know ‘‘where they’re at’’ and can govern themselves accordingly; this plan will create a harmony and good will. I was at the “Old Plantation’’ at St. Louis World’s Fair, 1904, and at White City, Chicago, 1905. I have been at all of the American Expositions since the Philadelphia Centennial, except Charleston and Portland. I have been at some of the smaller parks, and with a few carnival companies, and observation teaches me that the successful park manager is the one who gives attention to every part of his resort; the one who engages intelligent assistants who do not imagine themselves Czars when in the presence of employees; the one who has a proper regard for the public and undersfands the knack of making the public have a proper regard for him and his resort. Gen. Del., Dallas, Tex. PERTINENT POINTER The experienced park manager, unlike the tyro, husbands his advertising appropriation. He knows that splurging at the beginning of the season is unnecessary, as it is essential when the season is on the wane. With the advent STRAIGHT TALK TO CARNIVAL MANAGERS By Al. J. Anglin. (Written for The Billboard.) A few months ago I read an article in The Billboard, which was contributed by someone, stating that street fairs were beginning to be things of the past. Pardon me, Contributor, but I wish to emphatically contradict this statement. The people are not growing tired of street fairs, but they are tired of the same old ‘‘snake eater,’’ ‘dancing girls,’”’ etc., that are now with every carnival company. The class of people who visit these street fairs annually, go now for the purpose of having a day, or, perhaps a week’s sport, mingling with the crowds and not to see the ‘“‘sights of the shows,’’ because these have become monotonous to them, as they have witnessed the Same ones every season. Year before last I was in New Orleans, La., there was a street fair in progress there. of the show managers had a pair of geese, which he advertised as the ‘‘Dancing Geese.’’ He had a large box built and immediate under the geese’s feet was a tin bottom and under this tin bottom was also a wooden one, which could be slid out, and under the wooden one he had several lamps. When the spectators had congregated in the small tent, the orchestra strikes up some lively tune. The manipulator of this box slides the wooden bottom out and caused the lamps to heat the tin. As the tin becomes hot the geese began to shake their feet until finally it does seem to the spectators that the geese had actually been trained to do the ‘“‘jig.’’ Now this was cruel and should be prevented by the 8S. P. C. A. but it was something new to the people and they patronized it. The manager of the attraction had to “turn them away.’’ This was a simple device, but it was something new. The people had not seen it before and all wanted Many of them went in several times in succession because they enjoyed it, while ‘‘Bosco’s’’ manager stood with his hands in his pockets. What the people want is something new, and they must have it. Don’t think that you can pass the same old things off every season to the people in the south, because they, too, are “getting wise.”’ io see ii. HARRY BRETON LEAPING THE GAP The above represents Harry Breton performing his original feat of leaping a twenty three foot gap in a small but fully equipped automobile. cially constructed for this purpose and weighs 350 pounds. power gasoline engine, transmission gear, etc. compact and low. The steep incline built fifty feet high. calculated at nearly two miles a minute, The speed of the machine as The machine used is one espeIt is equipped with a 3% horse The machine has no springs and is built very speed necessary to leap the gap is attained by a run down a it goes over the gap is so that the photo from which the above cut was made must necessarily have been taken in no greater period of time than one-thonsandth of a@ second. Harry Breton’s address may always be found under our Performers’ Dates. of spring people who have been cooped up in the cities all winter are simply wild for the open. Fresh air, green grass and early flowers are more than sufficient as drawing cards. Expensive advertisements and costly feature acts are not needed. Save in the matter of expenditure at the start in order that you may do extensive and sensational advertising when it is needed—when it will count. “MUNTE WUS A BOIRD” Nora came to see Monte Cristo. It was in the kitchen the following morning that her mistress discovered her going through gyrations with a frying pan, gesticulating wildly and occasionally bursting into a Celtic flow of doubtful rhetoric. “What are you doing, Nora?’ questioned the somewhat frightened mistress. “I’m practicin’, Munte Cristo I seen last night. It were a great play and Munte wus a boird.’’ “What part of the play did you like the best, Nora?’’ ‘Sure and it was the place where ihey tied Munte up in a sack and threw him frum the top of a tower into th’ ocean, but they couldn't kape him under. He come up outen the sack and he climbed up on some rocks, and it made a creepy feelin’ come up in me stomach when he shouted at ’em all that the world was his’n. Sure, Munte is a great man.” MONOLOGUE JOKES In his monologue about his experiences on a Street car Elmer Tenly, ‘““The Man From Manhattan’’ tells some good ones about the conductor. Here are a few: The car is jammed full of people, and, upon coming to a sudden stop, a man rushes up to the conductor on the car platform and says, “Mr. Conductor, which end do I get out?’ ““Ayther,’’ says the conductor, ‘‘both inds stop!’ Another passenger, calling the street-car official, says: ‘Mr. Conductor, what time are you due at the city jail?’ “Kind sor,’’ replied that worthy, “I shud hov been there a month ago.’’ Now, managers of carnival companies, I advise you to advertise for new ideas, as there is no better way to secure them than by advertising. Robber,’’ if it be only another picture, the “Old Plantation,’’ for instance. always welcome; first, because it is changed somewhat every season with new songs and dances. Old members dropping off and new ones coming in. And, secondly, because there is some life in it. Give the people some inducement to pay the carnival a visit. Get several good free attractions, should it be an open fair. The one or two who have come in advance of the whole family will write to the others, “Best fair that has ever been here. Bring the rest of the family and all of the neighbors.” If it is no good, vice versa. As the carnival season is about to commence, I hope that the managers will give this idea a part, and a large part, of their attention and consideration, and see if it does not pay. Wishing you, managers, much good luck this Season with your attractions and thanking The Billboard (the showman’s friend), for the space I have occupied, I remain, AL. J. ANGLIN, Take ONLY CREATURES LEFT IN WORLD Wingless Birds and Rare Lizards Given National Zoo, Twelve of New Zealand’s most interesting birds and four lizards, Tepresenting the only creatures of their age remaining in the world, have been presented by New Zealand to the United States and were sent on the Sierra during her latest trip from the Antipodes en Toute to the Government zoo at Washington, D. C, New Zealand’s gift includes four kiwes, four maori hens, two kea parrots and four tenatara lizards. The kiwe is a wingless and tailless bird, whose features are used in making mantles worn by the Maori chiefs. The Maori hen or weka is a brown bird, much larger than the American hen. The kea parrot weighs five pounds. The tentara lizard is about thirty inches long and is the only known survivor of its race in the world, G | zet something to succeed the ‘Train thor of the play. u This is | JAMES DUTTON | A 8 He is the well-known equestrian director with the Robinson Show. eon MANSFIELD ON THE PLAYER’S HARD LIFE The drama is a hard taskmaker. The greater portion of the people of the world imagine thag the stage is a very easy means of earning @ livelihood. It is not. IL know by experience, for | have tried various ways, and I know of none harder. We rise in the morning, and we have a light breakfast, and by our side Hes the manuscript of a play we are studying. Then off to rehearsal, a long and tedious rehearsal, In a dark, gloomy, damp-smelling theatre. ‘Tbere sometimes we drag out the weary hours working, teiling and fretting ourselves until perbaps 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Then we have to get back home and commit those words to memory. A hasty dinner follows, a@ licht as possible—a plece of roast beef, and nothing to drink except water. A few minutes rest. if possible, if we bave that fortunate quality which Napoleon had, to close his eyes a few minutes and sleep, and then at 7 punctually in that dressing-room at the theatre. And have you any conception of what that dressing-room is like, in what places we sometimes have to dress? I have stood, Wales, in the act of making up, as the technical term is for painting your face—standing with one foot on a brick and with the other foot on a brick, and the water running all around me; a little plece of cracked lookingglass in hand, and the stage was made out of a number of boards laid across barrels, with the ladies dressing on one side of the stage and the gentlemen on the other side, and consequentiy the exits and entrances bad to be changed. We had two exists, one on the side | where the gentlemen dressed and one exit on | the side where the ladies dressed, but occa| sionally we forgot and once I “exited,” if 1 am permitted to use that term, on the side | where the ladies dressed, and there were | shrieks which were not written in by the ag tle room, I fortunately had one, and jhaps a tallow dip was struck in the neck of | a bottle, and I was fortunate if I had some thing to cook for myself over a fire, if I had a fire. That was my life. years and years when night came I have wandered about | the streets of London, and if I had a I invested it in baked potatoes from the | potato man on the corner. I would put those | hot potatoes in my pocket, and after I had warmed my hands I would swallow the potatoes. That is the truth. It has sometimes seemed to me that the advice of the German philosopher was the best: There was @ bird that lived at the top of a tree, and he | complained that no sooner had he bollt a nest | than either the flerce wind came and blew it | away, or it was struck by lightning, and somebody advised my friend the bird to go and live at the bottom of the tree. He did eo, and builded his nest among the roots, and then he went to his friend, and sald: “I am |eaten up by vermin.”’ Now, his friend ad him to build his nest in the middle of the tree, and he built his nest in the middle of | the tree, and for all I know he is ovens there |happily now. Perhaps it is best to build your | nest in the middle of the tree. For years and years I went home to my lit per ked } | | The great fad of Prince Oupid, Hawaiian | delegate to Congress, is love of animals, and | almost every summer he visits Hamburg, the greatest wild animal market in the world. The dealers in Hamburg all know him, and whenever they receive from Africa some particularly superb choice lion or tiger he is notified and at his first opportunity he hurries to inspect the animal and buy it. On his estates In Hawati he has probably the largest menagerie of man in the world, and indeed it is doubtful the average circus can equal his collection. When in Washington he is always accompanied by a pair of magnificent Great Danes, When he came to Washington for his first term he brought with him one or two of his tamed anlmal pets, but no hotel would harbor and to his intense sorrow he was obliged to send them back home. a '