Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, February 27, 1887, Page 17

i -V P } better kno THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 27 ~TWELVE PAGES FASHION'S FANE FAREWELL! Tor Twenty-Five Years in an American Amusement Temple. FOOTLIGHTS FADED FOREVER. Favorite Faces—Patti's Firat t— Grist and Mario—Vestvali—Pic colomini — Kellogg's Debut— Notable Balls, New York, Feb. 23.—[Correspondence of the Bek.]—The scene of o many lytic triumphs, the home of fashion twenty- five years ago, the resort of the cultivated taste andartistic excellence of New York is to be closed; converted into a beer garden, perhaps, or a German threatre; given over to purposes of which its pro- fectors and owners mnever drcamed Within those walls I heard the farewell of Grisi and Mario to America, in Lu- crezia Borgia. There the sumptuous queen of tragic opera waved the arms which it was said were the same that the Venus of Milo had lost, and with a grace and passion and dignity that have never been equalled since, hurled the im- preeations and accusations of the Druid, or implored for the life of Gennaro, with a superb majesty and pathos that made the infatuation of Ferrara credible. There the greatest tenor of our time warbled out the dying strains of Edgardo, or the love notes of the Spirto Gentil to enraptured audiences. The final scene 1, when Grisi crouched and d at the foot of the cross and_then arose in the rapture of love, as Mario dragged her to him, and both sang the inspiring notes of the finale—equalled in dramatic power and passionate ex- pression anything seen or heard on the modern stage TReiih - was. b eHIMIEAS tion of Italian opera. The rendering of such artists was as indispensable to the masters of song as the instrumentation of today is to the embodiment of Wagne len; but singers like these produc (s of exquisite expression and melodic delight not surpassed by the greatest triumphs of instriment or or- chestra in the German harmony. Not only GRIST AND MARIO have ieft their memories in leving place, the “*Huguenots™ and the T first produced in Ame Vestvali, the Pole, first g the notesof Azucena toa New York auaience, and with ner fine presence and magnetic bearing while fasei ung New York. There the delightful trio Brignol, Amodio and La \ze so long reigued supreme; a tenor full of sweetness, if not rey a baritone rich, full and sonorous; tined, expressive, pret the music beer, Donizetti, Verdi or Mozart., La Grange and Formes in the third act of the “'Huguenots” gave a rendering that has hara been surpassed of that ex- quisite sc nd in Robert le D the great , without accompanime where the struggle that comes to every man, between temptation and prineipls is port d withn g leur and power fully equzl to the expression of the same ided in the Tunhauser, an effect was pro- duced that the greatest musicians and psers might envy, At this opera house KE a soprano cultivated, B and able to inte OGG MADE HER DEBUT in Rigole while Colonel Stebbins, her friend and ron, looked down from his box and shared with his family and the audience the pleasure of that artistic suceess which he had done so much to render possible. 1 remember going b hind the scenes to congratulate the new prima douna on her voice and her boots, which both were fine, Here also, of a Thanksgiving night, Patti first sang in opera, twenty-six years ago, to a seant d ence, who little dreamed they were present at the entrance into the music; world of one of its greatest prodigie and queens. Nor not the most hopeful friend or enlightened s anticipated the brilhant career that awaited the timid little maiden, ree sventeen, who came out as Lucia di Lammermoor, TCCOLOMINT RF NED HERE for a scason; not the grestest of singers, but surely one of the most delicious of actresses. In comic rol e can never have been surpassed, The exquisite coquetry with Rodolfo in spite of her love for Elvino, in th Sonnambula;” the malicious archness of Rosina, all through the “Barber;” the half unconscious naughtiness of the Batti-Batti, and of the minuet in *‘Don Giov i of womunly wile k Ahn me! the long procession of beautiful women and delightful singers and 5; the queens and pea Indies, the mad Lindas g Lucias singing out their woes so that you wished they would never get well; the stately Semiramides, the rattling, drum- ming v eres; the abbesses that rose from their tombs 1n_ballel dresses to en \in the son of Robert; the saucy who tlirted with Figaro; the artistic 3 $ié fair Romeos the en- now? Their graces and t, their songs all silenced: the curtain fallen forever on their charms and arts, Even the musie is forgotten that spired them—another sign of the ¢ Jn:\x has come over New York. For 'tis not only the stage, and the style of the musie, but the people and their manners that are difterent, The fashion hus passed aw Lf‘, Yet who that knew the oid life at the demy of music but re- grows the delightful house where every ody could sce everybody else, where the LADIES WERE NOT STUCK like milliner's figures 1n a shop window but sat as in a drawing-room, surrounde by their friends; where o man could walk about and find a dozen acquaintances as he passed; where it was possible to get X without peering at a half MW » vve illogible name, OF ng through an and ove,Shoes, unte-room full of cloaks and then perhaps blundering and tloun- dering into the company of people you do not know. Who dues out recall the guy Jook of the house where you were Deir enough to recognize a friend across the theatre, where gant women were accustomed to sit in the parquet and bal- cony in opera hats and light colored cloaks,a costume often as effective as full dress, but which is no longer known, and which gave the whole audience a bril- liant effcet as difterent as possible from the funeral aspect of the floor of the Metropolitan In those d in- g , too, the people were far n; not only known to them- selyes, but distinguished by reputation and character; people of mark, whom any country might be glad to consider its representatives. Great authors hike Ban- eroft and Irving, great lawyers and judges, composers like Fry and Bristow: men of national fume in politics were us abundant in New York sc 45 1n these days they are rare, und all went to the opera. 'They even WENT TO THE CHARITY BALL; wus one of the events that made the old academy of music notable. Peo- ple then were more certain of themselves, and not afraid to walk, ¢r even to dance, on the floor of the oper . Th not find their gentility so delicate that they wust shut it up in xes ‘where no one could a b save through an ante- chamber. Now the few who consider the ves somvbodies, especially if they have recently come to thut coaclusion, are too much afraid of being jostied by hose who aré nobodies. For at no other place does sacloty walk be floor decolettee, uud in dress’ couts, for th y did | VACANT LOTS In all Parts of the "fly at the LOWEST PRICLS, 1513 Farnam St. CALL ON US For Business and Residence Property. 1513 Farnam St. NOTTER REAL ESTATE. ACENCY Have moved their office to 1513 Farnam St., to the office formerly oc- cupied by Paulsen & Co. —= TIPTON PLACE. =— This beautiful addition is in the northwesu part of the city; is high and dry, overlooking all of Omaha and Council Bluffs: is built up all around it; has good Schools, Churches and Stores within 2 blocks of it, and is the most desirable Property in the city. Is cheap and is sold on such terms that any one can buy. This is a snap. There are only a few lots left and they are all the very best. Come and see them, " IRENE PLACE. Thisis the best property in the market for the money. ‘r'he North- western depot will be located either on this property or very close to it. Don’t let this slip. Lots only $275 to $350 each; $50 cash, balance $10 per month. ; WE ARE HEADQUARTERS for BARGAINS . Remember the Change of Location, 1513 Farnam St. 2 TI_IE Three lots in Reservoir add, Motter Raal Estate Agency. [~ lot, balance easy. It Saunders Si only This Three lots near 4 mile south of Plainview. $1,200 cash; easy terms. beats any body’s snap. MOTTER, 1513 Farnam Street. s X S SRS S TS S One east front lot on Park at a bargain, MOTTER, 1513 Farnam St. side by side with anybody who In the street, if it walks, society is muflled, has on its hats and high bonnets; at the theatre or Delmonico's, though it shares the amusements of the unfashionable, and sometimes sits same benches with them, 1t 18 : amused, not amusing; at church, if 1t prays by the side of smners of another set, it is, of course, in separate pews, just S aughs) at the operu in exclusive . But at a ball you mustseem to be a part of the crowd;” you move among the others; you can’t be told from them except by the initiated, Yet even this crifice society once made to charit ow it takes tickets, and if 1t attends the ball, it only looks on from the grand tie Itis true a few fall into the march a the opening; that one may do, and not | ¢ lose caste. And how odd iiscems! A quarter of a century ago some of the sime people were doing the same thing ac the academy of music that they now do at the Metropolitan. I could tell you their nam But there are more TOUPE AND BALD HEADS in the procession to-day; or, perhaps, it is other heads; thuse that were grey or bald then have disappeared altogether, I fc The chaperones of those times have g to their last ball, the socinl queens entered a kingdom not of this world. most frolicsome belles ‘‘before the are the dowagers of 1387; it is the dan- cing men that I knew who sit in the hoxes and look down; perhaps they have good reason. When [ think of the other changes sti when I see the crowds of people who k not only grown up or grown old, but have comein and jostled uside those who were once so important; when I remember, not only the belles ti are passee and the beaux at are bald, but the fortunes that have been spent, the names that have been forgot- ten though their owners are still alive; when I see some who were once socially powerful, now humble and obscure; peo- ple who' lorded it over society —and refused admission to their parties to some whose courtesis they are now happy to nceept; charitable courtesies which they can return only by their presence, which still couf a distinction— y again. The fashion of this world p: th away. Look at the list of ‘the patrons and patron- esses of the charity ball—a long seroll of half-known names by the side of a few of social distine Many were not on that list only tive years ago; they were not then of consequence enough to be allowed to buw places with & dozen tickets. In five years more they will consiuyX Whether they care to be on the Tt atall;ana m 8 decade they will be sought after; 1t will be tney yho confer distinction. In twenly-tive years yul can become of “old family’’ in New York. If your father and mother were in society, your aristocracy is incontest- y ball ion which he has never before surpassed, perhaps never before equaled. he crchestration for the tempest chorus. the chorus itself, the brindisi and the duct parlanti or yocal king, form one succession of sub- pages, rich, not alone in genius and aught with that superior ex- of technmique which the me- s hand, after years of practice alone, knows how practically to set forth. Verdi' knows what the public wants; knows how to touch IE PUBLIC HEART he knows every musical variety of light, shade, and efféct to the nicety of a huir, and to the nicety of a hair weighs them, Perhaps in *'O:kello’ he has shown less respect for the feeling of the public than ever before. Divine s of melody cut by so-ealled philosophical bri surprise follows .h\igm, and increc ceeeds desir Verdi has not sacrificed i as he bas so often done. Verdi re- mains Verdi; an Italian and a composer who, in spité of innovation, temptation, and revolution in modern music, has written a work intensely Italian, and an opera which only an Italian co 1 began by speaking of the first act, but the same power and inspiration is vis throughout the whole oper: As for a technical description of th music, why need I tell yon that an i sistible torrent of chromatic sc: groups of thres nd four describe the tempest; that Ingo sings a brindisi in D minor, or Othello an air in A 1l that Desdemona’s tears and laments flow in E natural, with harp accompaniment, or that Othello’s rage snd crime, again in A flat, are preceded by a passage for the con're-basse unique in the philosophy of musical composition? When 1 say that from the beginning to the end Verdu written four acts of grand and extraor- dinary musie, you will know that a vocab- ulary more or’ less of st ph can no more enhance the value of an, pinion, Desdemona ind her lord; and one, more | than it could depict your appreciation of terrible for Iago and Othello, then comes | Verdi's musterpiccc, No word pioture the finale of the third act, which, in spite | can adequately deseribe the ingenious of its force, canuot help shocking the | work;no words can portray the enthu- on worshivper at Shs siasm it excited, nor the ovations it won S 5 We know that Othello | for its composcr. was # Moor and a brute, but we cannot A BLEATING TENOR imagine that he would have done what Tamagno, the tenor, looked and acte Boito makes him do. The senators ar- | Ogpello, but he did not sing; he bleated, rive and announce new honors for | piciemons hi S T Othello and also his required departure | yine'in histor nd the present expo- for Venice. Othello, worked up to the | nontof the rolé suggested to me all my supremest heights of in the pre- | thoysand unavenged wrongs laid at the ceding duet with Tago, breaks forth into | 4oor of Brabantio's daughter. Me. 4 paroxysm of passion unknown even to | puniaiconi is an excellent person, but as Shakesp Desdemona comes | pegdemons she ought to have been forwa &8 to be allowed to ac- | g othered—the night before, at the dress compuny her lord; she again almost im- | yonoursal, Her voice 15 naturally fine prudently pleads Cassio’s cause, when | yna™qran atie, but she has no more before court, senate and {"'l'“""‘"- knowledge of the pure art of singing Othello flings her to the ground, seream- | than T huye of the real science of astro: ng numP'. She has a vil: emission of Yoice in the medium open potes; the upper notes are clear, but rarely in tune. ‘I lovely music gned to Othello’s wife must baye splendid resisting powers not faiién atn Gier nands, or throat In appearan Mme. Pantaleoni is like- wise unfortunate; she is short, slightly cross-eyed, and of o physical plainness, which dwarfed the already insignilicant Desdemona. She acted very well in the first and third acts, but not so well in tl last. Of the other singers let me say that Pelsoviteh, as Emilio, was erved ! 1y hooted; Y. Fornari, as Roderigo, was not important enough {6 Lelp or hinder the work; and M. Puroli as Cassio wus really fal cond tenor; he, at least, knew how to sing, but nature evideatly never intended him tosinz at La Seala The ovations to Verdi and Boito reached the climax of enthusiasm. Verdi was presented with a silver album filled with the autographs and cards of every world | citizen He was called out the Moor’s wish that the city rejoice. very man takes on a merry mood; some begin to dance, some to make bontires, and each man goes to what sport and revels his addition leads m.” Cassio and Montana take these instructions literally, and the duel follows. Mont: wounded, Othello ar- rives. Cassio delivers up his sword, and the people disperse. Desdemona appears, and a tender \u\'u duet finishes the first act. 1t will be seen that Boito, in cutting the first act of Shakespeare's play, by sup pressing Desdemona’s appearance before the senate and transposing the duel scene, brings her on at the moment when m ‘must follow the storm. Instead of almost nondeseript apparitions, we have one, which, by its present arrange- ment, is the climax of the act, and, philo- sophically considered, the veritable tion for such a climax. As dramatic writing, [ have equal 1n intensity, One situation follows another with such headlong rush that I cun only think of the arrows snot from a bow. it is 2 pageant at which those who dance and dress and dine sumptuously congre- gate for their own purposes. here o ,as_muny charming people seattered about New York as el where, or ever; but the elements are rarely ¢ zed. You find one inter- esting or'distinguished man at this house, one faseinating or clever woman at an- other ree any hostess has the art to bring a room full of them together. Yet anybody who knows New York ean think of half a dozen women with fortune and acknowledged position, with wit and cul- ture of their own, who might haye made their houses centers of as brilliant a so- cicty as sts anywhere 1n the world, but they have been too timid; they call it sxelusive, but timid is the word. They red not ask those they would have liked, for fear they themselves might be the subject of talk. But they anave not known their own power. Mankind still, as in Po day, is “born tg be con- trolled.” There are crowds o BRIGIT AND CULTIVATED WOMEN in New York society to-d old habitues | »w comers; of the Knickerbocker | Jj s, and interloper y Drigit men _are rar goto teas or to balls, and they don't care for a dinner every night, no matter how sumptuous, unless the company fsas | choice as the cuisine, and the talk is as good as the wine. The result is that there is no one rele in New York where every body of decided mmportance 1ssureto be found. A man of unim- peachable surroundings and acknowl- edged social distinction may be utterly unknown to another of precisely the same stamp. This situation ('nufil not and does not exist anywhere else in the world, But a soeiety that does not include the most distinguished peo of the neigh- borhood is not “society” in the e 1n which the word is used elsewher hose who give dimners and balls, even 1f well descended, and used to the euquette of fashionable life (which all of them are not), cannot and do not constitute soci- ety. They may call it so and chromecle its doings, butit will not be the good company of the place until it attracts— not admits, but ater peovle of im- portance other than fashionabl ApayM BapEaU. — TER FIENDS. by lago represent power and inspir; “VIVA VERDI! VIVA VERDI!” Triumphant Reception of the New Opera "Othello” in Milan, MAJESTIC AND MASTERLY MUSIC Superb Scenery—Perfect Costumes and Chorus—A Great Orchestra— Indifferent Cast — Unprece- dented Honors. MiLaN, Feb., 6.—[Correspondence of | ¢ the Beg.J—The grand opera house of La never before contained an audi- ence that could compare with the oae that assembled last night in honor of Verdi's new opera,**Othello.” From pit to dome the immense auditorium was filled , spurkling eves and bril- it toilettes. The mew clectric lights shed an indescribable softness over par- quet and gallery, and the scene recalle some fantastic tale of the kings' court the Arabian Nights. The Itallan court in itself afforded & dazzling mass of colors, und Queen Mar, ies of honor and the high-bred Milanese women were covered with jewels. ¥ully an hour be- fore the, curtiin arose every seat in the house was ocenpied, and the light mur- mur of expectant voices coming from three thousand throats, perfectly nudible yet disereetly indistinet, reminded you of an enchanted forest on a moonli night; where every leaf ana flower sti to the rhythm of some wandering bri where the million confused sounds of re- dundant nature, freight air and zephyr with an endless breath of imitative har- mony. No one was too ated or too proud at this greatest of all solemnities, 1o jostle the confadina on the doorstep, or the fruit-vendor humming a Verdin- inn measure under the portico of La Scala; all were { to be seated before the curtain wer Pride of rank, birth or position gave way before the universal homage which Italy still sows n perennial laurel at the feet of her great composer, BOITO'S LIBRETTO. Franco Faccio’s appeararce in the con- ductor’s chair, which he has filled so long and so well signal for thunders of applause. The orchestra at once struck up a few glorious chords representing a tempest, which was followed by an in- stuntancous rise of the curtan. Boito begins his libretto with the sceond act of Shakespeare’s “Otte The scenes are laid in & maritime city of Cypru GRAND SINGI) In the second act, we have lago's solo and great scene, with a short speaking duet for Cassio and Ingo. D sdemona is seen at the back of the e receiving gifts from women and children who are singing a chorus that forms a most orig- inal accompaniment to a duet with Iago and Othello, both of whom stand well to the front, The chorus finished, 1 mona comes torward to solicit Cass return to the Moor's favor; a quartette follows, and the net ends with a grand veen Othello und Iago. Act third is where we have most of Boito’s changes from the original text. He has written a trio for Cassio, Othello and Iago, called the handkereli i 50 admirable in form and poetry fits the English bard’s play as a glove fits the hand; then follows a duet between REC Men Who Are Always Looking at Ho- tel Registers, “What did that man wagt to find in this register?” asked a BEE reporter of Clerk Davenport of the Millard, yeste day. “1f you can tell me I'd like to hear gat e Sraian il tia iyl | S A NG b A S0t shirt-iront, . o of the Italian’s po:t's work, to which “‘He looked at every name on the last ‘erdi has written such sublime measures three pages,” said the scribe, by way of | Arrigo isoito Is gifted fn aris, misio and ation, verse, He has laid a_hand upon the im- o5, and 80 do a hundred others every u:llxrml hunl':lvi'urkl‘ which l;lu;w-d by an- They other man than he, might have been g They come to the counter as | Bt WY Ciom) 8ol K rcight. - Boito if they desired to register. 1 hand them | 45" transposed, added to, and—do not a pen, and sometimes they do not | start—in some ways adorned the play of know enough to dec line it. They pore | *'Qthello." He has done what no one else over the pages, asif they were looking | has yet done: he has made a study from for some friend or business man, and if | | QU classic which, while not absolutely “ Shakespearean, puts the English poet in should ask them, whom they wante a still newer ligit. The enormous aiffi- five-sixths would unable to tell me. | culty of making an operatic libretto from This class of people is most numerous | a play, is i itself an almost insurmount- | cents of piteous scorn, sings in contrast | when we are most burried. They stand | 8Dl Ulv-liln‘llu. ?‘\':i.u Iuu miml" lu\]h:u to mm\[ senate’s «((11 {;:r llblhlmm :u’ul\'lhe i rie: " , Wi Wi nd itse 0 the con- reople’s amations tothe Lion ol en in the way of guests, ussume an import of & musical space, whist cannot be | jce.’ Lok i him, here! Here ance wineh ill becomes them, reach for compressed within the limits of musical | your Lion of Venice? ‘The curtain falls, tooth pick, turn around and eventually 4 expr on, considerations weighty This scene, as I have said, is Boito's slink away after they have caused us a loss of time, and patience aad given great annoyance to our bona-fide patrons. *'TO EARTH AND WEEP," and dealing her such a blow that the united people 1 torward with one commingled ery of shame and horror, | While the chorus rages, the Moor, with bowed head, sits aside, but the quartette ended he starts up, and sends off the courl, senate, and populace; seemingly alone, in & terrivle fury, he attempts a cry for vengeance, when his force for sal him, und he staggers and falls in- ensible to the floor.” At that instant, ago who had loitered behind a column of the peristyle, rushes forth, plants his heel on the Moor's bre: and, with ac- s ago the cha yore no ‘‘assem- A or triarchs’ then nobody dreamed of dancing at Del- monico's; there were no other opportunity for so fine a floor or so large an assem- nd nearly everybody went, be- t was the only chance in the year ng so many of the fashionable world together at once. Of course there was no more beauty then than now; there no smarter gowns; and, course,what one sees in one’s youth has a glamor that lasts across a generation; there is always & halo when you look back. But for all this I insist there was a distietion about New York fushion that has not entirely remaine There were more men of impo to be seen. Now the really IMPORTANT MEN OF NEW YORK are not in socicty. “Society” is com- osed, not of people whom society wants, wople who want to be in'society. There is intinitelp more wealth and dis- play, and infinitely less that sitracts eul tivated and refinéd men and women. ‘Tliese are thrast aside by the throng, or | frightened by the impossibility of keen ing up with the show, or disgusted wiid be enough in' themseives to paralyze the | chief innovation, and 1t seems to me an most fucile pen or imagination. unnecessary one. The original scene is THE FIRST ACT itself terrible enough to give the Boito began to think of his “Othello™ | an idea of Othelio’s char: r. This | twenty t. and at the last recalls hats fifteen years ago. Six years ago he sat down and in s many months wrote and | completed his libretto. It flows with the | Limuidity which tranquillises waters ruf- fled by the wildest storm, and reflects the | light which we sce on 'the wave lately | freed from the blacknessof the hurricané Tie opening scene on fhe island of Cy | pras presents Iago, Roderigo and Cassio. A chorus sings a hymn of victory, rejoic- jug that Othello and s shups have been suved from Turk and tempest; a brindisi 1ce Milan p——— brutality strikes and handke first really discordant notcof exagser audience tion in an otherwise extraordinary li- | w bretto W The fourth act is' fairly trad The Moor kills his wife, but spare for the traitor flees with a s added expression of Chiefs were waved, and the in a body. The emotion s something indescribable, and many pt. Verdi's carriage was dragged by | citizens to the hotel. He was towsted and serenaded; and st five in the morning wds were still singing und shrieking “Never! Ah! Ab!'"on his perjured lips, [ Viva Verdi! Viva Verdi! Who shall say while the Moor ends an exislence that | tuat this' cry will not re-ccho all over the nas never known : t worldr At sbyenty-four this sccond con- di’s music, x, ughout the whole of | quer may well exclaim Veni, vidi, viei! | the tirat uet, is of. @ majosty, nmobility, k BraNclE ROOSEVELS, Can eonsumption be mun only tation | virtue of vace ured? Yes. ¥, discovered the luws of One wan only, discoverea the pation. And oue man after years of study and reflection, has discoy: ered the cure for consumption. Dr Pieree's “Golden Medical Discovery'’ 1s the success of vulgar ostentations; or | its specific. Send two letter stamps and they find so little o interest their tastes | get e Bieros's pamphlet treatls onp or'reward their e ions that they keep | consumption.. Address, World's Dispen aloof, anu soviety is not good Lumyauhlou,‘ Mudical Association, Buiialo, N. Y, | One gra SUNDAY NIGHTS IN OMARA. Scenes in The Varions Dance Halls of the City. THE PEOPLE WHO GO THERE, A Motley Throng and How it is posed — Liquid Refreshments— The Toughs who go There to Fight—Scenes, The Sunday Danoes. A nocturnal visit to the numerous Sune day dance halls in this city would dise close the fact that however well the Sab- bath day may be observed in Omaha, the Sabbath night 1s not as rigorously re= garded as strict Puritan ideas would re« quire, There are three or four of these dance halls in this city, all of which throw theig doors open to the public on Sunday night. One of the most largely patron- hall in the southern part of the everal blocks below the Thirteenth street bridge. Promptlysat eight o'clock the music strikes up in this resort. o crowds of men and women, boys and girls begin to flock . In a very few moments the initial waltz is commenced by the or- chestra, which is composed of a violin or two, a cornet, clarionct und bass viol. The feet begin to fly, and it is not long before the floor is full ot a jostling, joiting, but merry throng ot dancers. A polka or & schottische succeeds the waltz, then a square dance and so on. The ripple, la comus, varsovienne, waltz-quadrille, make up a programme which Keews the crowds busy until after mdnight, All kinds of people ecan be seen trip4 ping on the floor of this hall. There ig the staid lnboring man of Swedish, Dans ish or German nationaiity, who is thera gegularly every Sunday night with the health osy-checked damsel, upon whom, us his best girl, he lavishes his af- fection. Dancingin the same set with him, perhaps, is a gambler, who has left the faro-table long enough to enjoy the pleasures of the evening, with a temale friend. Opposite him you can spy the brawnv form of a man who ean be seen any day in the w driving a coal wigon.” A giddy youth who scils calico m w Farnam street dry goods store com- pletes the male porton of the sct. All classes of laboring men, hack dr cab drivers, cont licavers, gamblers, bar enders, woods elerks, i girls, itresses, und women whose reputation will not stand a critieal test, jostle to- gether in the heterogencous throng, By no m s are the dancers contined to the lower classes. Quite occasionally you can see gliding through the crowd'a’ young man who belongs to good * and with whom the best” young Omaha are proud to share the pleasure of a waltz. He has thrown cars 1l con- ventionalities to th inds, and is enjoy- ing a “night out.” Dancing is by no means the only ple ure enjoyed here. On either side of the main plittorm isa long,narrow platform, on which are placed tables. Around these are seated the thirsty, quatling beer. wine —or something stronger. White aproned waiters ily hither and thither, and during the intermissions between the dances are kept tremendously busy answering the > n them. Though is charged 7 1 that enters the hall, it is said the larger portion of revenue from these dances comes from the sale ol liquor. About ten or ecleven o'clock the erowd grows hilarious, and then o new feature of the evening’s fun is developed. The fighting begins. There are usually ind the crowd severs pecimens of ~the, Omaha tough—who would rather fight than eat a squave meal. Several glasse of beer and a real or in ary grie ance are suflicient to set his fists to work- ing upont the countenunce of his oppon- ent. For a few moments tl neas a chuotic mixture of blood, eyes, broken noses, sulphurous profanity and ng beer glasses, A dozen men on one side and a dozen on the other are tug- ging away I an attempt to part the pugilists. “The police come tothe rescue, work their clubs handily for a few mo- and then the fighters are iedy 1 and blecding, off to jail. Severat s are Kept on hand for such emer- and manu to preserve very fair order. Another dance hall, almost opposite this one, is the Boheminn hall. Here on” Sunday mights the people of this nation- ity, young and old, enjoy themselves: to the music of a fiddie, bass viol and) cornet. “Lhis hall is not nearly as large as the other one, and its patrons are al- most entirely limited to the Boheminns, ron the side,”” with a fight or two nd then, adds to the evening's en- 50 in the south- 1y which is a very nop- ular Sunday night resort, esu fly for Germans. From eight o'cluck until after midnight the pleasures of the dance are enjoyed, to the music of a really good orchestra, These dances are attended for the most part by the Germans, al- though a dancer of the Swedish or Dan- ish nationality may asionally be seen liding through the crowd rh and wine dispensed during the intervals b tween the dance-nunibers, serve to keep the throng in a happy mood. The crowds which attend these differ- ent dance halls a made up of substane tially the same elemen The women, for the most part are respectable, though several notoriously fast churs always to be secn in the crowd of ers or speetators. It must be said that many of the dancers are young girls searcely i their teens, whose morals, aluck! are as loose as their purental restraint. And no means an uncommon sight to find small misses of seven, eight or ten of nge dancing at these places. To extent these children must be i ol by such contaminating associ; let the worslizing reader o ern part ot the fluenc tions, mine. oDbs D ENDS, Stray Leaves From a Reporter's Note Book, “Well, when in the name of all that is celestial, are you going to die?" usked A. . Jones of John M. Clark, two days 820, Mr, Cla Jones 15 seventy-four, and Mr, k seventy-nine years of ouare five years older than I am, and yet you don't use a cane. It is you who ought to have this stick of mine, ind T ought to Le runnimg even more lvely than you ar But Lain't.” “Thank you, n't wal until [ get to be an old man retorted Mr. Clark “I have just made my wiil Neville yesterday to W. H. Ijan of the distriet conrt I teel 1 am get- ting old, and now I would to get two or three young wen to witness it **“Then lot me suggest d Mr. Ljams tainly," replied the judge you seleet Johin M. Cl ughed heartily, seei medlately the point of Mr.” Ijams sstion. ~ Mr. Clark, though within days of being seventy-nine years ol ag is one of the youngest wen of his yeurs i the countiy. your cane * faughingly aid Judge clerk e of the young ug- 1