The Billboard 1909-04-17: Vol 21 Iss 16 (1909-04-17)

AN (ERT C yx S# ay PUBL! SH ED? AME EIN So So Volume XXI. No. 16. Willard D. Coxey tells a story of a friend of his that is not lacking in humor. It appears that the two friends were out and around one night, not very long ago, and as it was well along toward dawn when they got up to Forty-second and Broadway, | J they decided to go to the Hermitage Hotel and get what sleep was left to them before starting in on their day’s —— business routine. Mr. Coxey’s friend had been imbibing beyond his capac ity, and was in somewhat hilarious spirits. He insisted, in thick-tongued fashion, on having a bed with two rooms, though the clerk corrected him several times, he insisted that he knew what he wanted and he wanted it, so Coxey acquiesced, and they were assigned to a beautiful, large room with two beds in it. Then Mr. Coxey’s friend concluded that he wanted to leave a call, and though Coxey so informed the clerk over the telephone, his friend would not have it so, but declared that he was going back down to the office and leave it himself. By this time Coxey was getting somewhat wearied of the position of cicerone, and he went to bed, leaving his friend to his own devices. Mr. Coxey had probably slept a couple of hours when a loud rapping on the door awakened him, and upon arising and opening the door, he found his friend, heavyeyed and disheveled, standing on the threshold. “Where have you been?” asked Coxey. “Well,” replied his friend, “I started out to go down stairs; I must have forgotten that there was an elevator and that we were on the eleventh floor, so I started to walk. Several flights down I stopped to rest, and I have been down there plotting and planning ever since.” Not very long ago a new office boy was engaged by Mr. Marc Klaw, of the firm of Klaw and Erlanger. The boy seemed very much wanting in worldly experience, but Mr. Klaw thought he observed some stamina behind the boy's roughness and diffidence, so he retained him, even against the protests of some of the minor department heads, who complained that the boy failed to carry out their instructions and was otherwise incompetent. As complaints multiplied, Mr. Klaw became more and more determined to make something out of the boy. It grew to be a sort of a hobby with him, and as he had not himself suffered any inconvenience from the boy's ignorance, the youngster was continued on the salary list. One day, however, the big man of the office called the boy to him. It was about 3:00 o'clock in the afternoon, and as he had an engagement downtewn, he concluded not to go home to dinner as usual. “Willie,” he said, “call up my residence and tell Mrs. Klaw that I will not be home for dinner.” The boy looked at him blankly for a minute, then asked: “To-morrow, Mr. Klaw?" Afterward, a series of irregularities led to the protege’s dismissal. The envious young aspirant to theatrical honers does not always consider that the men and women who have risen to the top in the profession, have done so through sheer merit. As an example, The Stroller remembers once — having sat at a table in Brown's Chop i Il | | House near two young actors, whe iii) were playing the smallest kind of HHHi1 parts in a Broadway attraction. EdHii die Foy sat nearby. HHH “How do you suppose he ever got \ where he is*” asked one of the young fellows. “He is nothing but a clown i I can’t understand why a man of his salaries,” along this same line throughout the and when Foy left both young men looked after him enviously. They then went back to earry spears in their own show. The next day they might have been found standing on one of the Broadway corners, idling their time, and easting invectives on those who have worked for successes achieved. There is no success without labor; no prosperity without consistent effort. Eddie Foy’s originality, it may even be called genius in its peculiar line, his efforts to get away from the conventional, him his success. The conversation was carried meal, So it is with numerous others who have attained positions stamp can get star engagements at big) are what have brought | 'at the top. Every successful comedian is a real humorist. necessary to his success. He must see the ridiculous in everything. An example in point: It is known to most members of the profession who have played Cincinnati that directly in the rear of the Grand Opera House is located Gift’s Fire Company, with a large bell in the tower, which announces fires in every section of the city. One night, during Frank Daniels’ recent engagement at the Grand Opera House, he and the members of his company, as well as his audience, were considerably annoyed by the tolling of the bell. It chanced that this same week Wright Lorimer was filling an engagement in The Shepherd King at the Walnut Street Theatre, a few blocks away. When the fire bell had gotten considerably on the nerves of the audience, Daniels walked to the front of the stage and said: “Don’t be uneasy. It is only the bells ringing for The Shepherd King.” It got the biggest laugh of the evening, and those who heard it and who appreciated Daniels’ kind of humor, will never forget the incident. It is absolutely General Agent Ed. C. Knupp, of Cole Brothers’ Shows, is the possessor of an unusually genial disposition and has that beautiful way of never allowing anything to ruffie him. When on the road he is not given to making acquaintances, for, as he says, every one wants to ask too many questions, and once a traveling companion finds out you are a circus man there are no limitations to the inquiries. The only way, he claims, to get along nicely is to ask no questions and then the chances are you will not have to answer any. It was one day last season that Eddie evidently forgot this ruie, and the place was a little ramshackle of a depot at an isolated junction, where he Was waiting for a train connection. The only other person in the depot was a tall, lanky native, who was wasting his energies whittling on a piece of pine timber and trying to tie his legs into a knot as he occupied the only seat in the station. The train was delayed and Knupp, after having exhausted his last cigar, and not a little of his patience, approached the native, and asked: “When do you suppose that East-bound train will be along?” “Right behind the engine.”’ was the reply, as a stream of tobacco juice was lost in a crack in the floor. “You're a pretty wise guy,” retorted Knupp, who was far from pleased at the impolite answer. “You've said it, ber gosh!" retorted the native, as he took an unusual) swipe at the timber. Knupp walked out on the platform and around the end of the siation, where, unobserved by the native, he could kick himself and laugh at the shrewdness of the Reuben. Ever since then, however, if Ed. can not find a time table, he will sit down and wait without asking any questions. Owing to rapid changes in the weather, there has been a flourishing /crop of colds this spring, and as coughs were heard and handkerchiefs came / often into play, Eugene Walters dropped into the story-telling mood. Having , commenced his career as a newspaper man, he always manifests a kindly interest in the newsboys, and anything that concerns them makes a lasting impression on his memory. He is very proud of their keen wit, and believes that the American newsboy has no equal in repartee or shrewdness. On the particular morning of the story—in chilly, frosty January—he was waiting on the New York dock while his friend, just over from England, saw to the collection of his luggage. The playwright thought it a good opportunity to dilate on his favorite theme. The Britisher rather resented his boasting, and said that to his mind the London newsboy was without an equal. “He is always ready with a retort that is as good as the latest in Punch. The London newsboys are keen students of human nature—not a detail in a man’s appearance Is unnoted by them,” said the Britisher. Walters smiled. “You just try one of these New York kids,”’ he said. | A lad approached to sell a paper, and the Londoner promptly opened _ fire, while the boy took an inventory of his customer. “Now, my boy, can you tell me the time by your nose this morning?” The boy glanced up at the Englishman’s aristocratic features, and, smiling serenely, said: “Ask your own nose, sir, mine ain’t runnin’. ” The Londoner, somewhat confused, took out his handkerchief, and ‘nothing more on the subject of newsboys was mentioned. F ; i £ an s 8 } ‘| } s = hh | a ae ae ; h : t Br : 5 : Pj H : : q a ' ‘ ‘ Bab at : : ; q Lt ba H : 7 & t 4 t ; + 4 : ; Ba . Fae : [ } : a i 75 ‘ a OA ONANISM eteamataen: am mecrcaoen cae , AIRE we Ae Ne ELON LL 08 tl