The evening world. Newspaper, May 8, 1903, Page 15

. iit a THE w EVENING # WORLD'S 2 HOME 2 N SNORT YR A ART LITT IE OER ITI LEN II Re PAG TIT HT SNE ENTE RENEE AGAZINE Lee ee — FRIDAY EVENING, MAY 8, 1903. “SHYLOCK AS I HAVE INTERPRETED HIM.” ; (Jacob P. Adler, the famous Yiddis (¢ Mhylock in Shakespeare's ‘Merchant of Venice” in this country, has 4 @ritten for The Evening World Home Magazine hin personal interpre- ff the role, As Herr Adler is a representative of the same race gion as was Shylock, his conception of this strange charac: expected, far more intimate and subjective than the average actor’s or Shakeapeuriau student’s could hope to ve.) BY JACOB P. ADLER. ARIOUS circumstances have led to my accoptance of the proposition of Mesers, Ross & Webber to play “The Merchant of Venice" with a se- leot English-speaking company, myself enaoting the title role in the Fiddish language. This is the first time in the history of the stage in general actor, who ts about to enact | :T WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN? | Various Definitions of the Title Claimed by ‘Reggie’ Vander- bilt and ‘‘Al’’ Adams, HE diveretty of opinion over the rights of different men to subscribe them- yes ag gentlemen brought out more forcibly than ever the queation, “What ds a gentleman?” When Al Adams, in Sing Sing, signs himself on the prison register as having the occupation of a gentleman and Reginald Van- dorbilt claims the same Utle, there must be some idea of the word's significance which fits a diversity of the cases. Here are the opinions of prominent New Yorke: ing World their definition of a gentleman. SENATOR CHAUNCEY DEPEW: “A gentleman is, above all things, honest and honorable. The term appites to no particular on in life, nor Js the man worthy of the name affected by fortune or income. The principal characteristic of a gentieman Is consideration for the rights and feelings of others. Clothes and clubs do not make a gentleman. A man must, howeer, be clean inside and out. He must interpret life sincerely who have given to The Even- and of the Jewish stage in particular that one of my own people is given ®** the opportunity to play on the general a @tage the great part created by the immortal dramatist and to play it in the Yiddish tongue. I therefore feel the responsibility of my new step and am fioved to say a few words about tt to my Jewish brethren as an explanation Refofe I make my appearance for the Christian pudlic in this diMcuit role. { — My presentation of Shylock on the *» Jewish stage, where I have won so many friends and admirers, has at- ‘tracted the attention of American critics, who perhaps fret came out of I eurtosity to see how Shakespeare is presented on the Jewish stage. But when > they came they saw Shylock in an altogether new light, in a conception differing ss trom any that have been presented by the noted tragedians of the world. The < Christign as well as the Jewish critios honored me with much praise for my new interpretation. This led to the favorable proposition of an American firm, which «has also estimated my work in many other plays, to appear before the general *e Ameriean public in the role of Shylock. ~) But is it true that 6hylook is such a teing as he has been conceived and pre- sented upon the stage? Is he merely the shrewd, obsequicus, money-loving ugurer, who is ready to out human flesh when his money is not paid him, and has not even a pound of pity, of sympathy, of charity for his opponent? No; conception is not true, according to my opinion. I conceive in Ghylock the 4@ @ product of centuries of persecution, the Jew who during the haw been denied every other occupation by the powers that were, and as forced by circumstances to become a money-lender, to whom money- was the only means of keeping ‘his eoul in his boty. I Bee in Shylock the outraged Jew, deprived of his possessions, robbed Wy daughter, his wounds mooked, his sorrows laughed at, his blood shed step, and left alone without e helper, a protector, a friend among all ty and the strong who waste thelr lives in empty joys’ and vain a es r as i gall and the venom of all that he has endured has accumulated within htm. Gils aching, tleeding heart, which no one about him can see, is filled to overflowing with rage and hetred. He demands the fulfilment of the law—th @eroy sound to him when he hears it pronounced by his heartless enemies. But he has the feeling of justice. In his embitterment and despair he is unyielding, inexorable in his demand; ; but s must not be forgotten that no one can tell what he would do if the law * fwould grant to him what {s his by oompact, Would he really cut the pound of @esh? ‘Ttis t 2 big question. Who knows but what on gaining the sult and Satisfied with the Judgment he would not cast down the imife with the same Gontemmpt that he thraw ack all the questions about mercy. In any case it seems thet Shylock should emerge from the court not only as on ~ spirit, crippled by the cruelty of fate, but also as who has the @nd conschousness that he is far above the worthless, detestable @urround bim, those who call right every wrong that is in their tntereat. ‘Through his @ejection and broken-heartedness there should still glow tn eyes the knowledge that he 1s a victim who stands higher than those who have Buch is my conveption of the role Stories from Famous Books. THE ADJUTANT’S STORY. “Dear Sir: Mr. McPhun and a few His instincts must be refined. The first sign of a gentleman is his attitude toward women.” MRS, ROBERT OSBORN: “One meets so few men nowadays who Mil all the requirements of an (deal fcentleman that {t {shard to give a definition that {s practical. The most dominant characteristics are a clean mind and gentle instincts, Primarily, a gentleman's attitude toward himself must be one which reflects a conactentious self-respect. The tonm ‘gentleman’ is entirely relative. The man with the ragged clothes, to use a trite illustration, may be as much 4 gentleman as the wealthy fashion- able. “While cleantiness {s a requisite, as a general thing there are many men with grimy hands who have greater right to claim the ttle than the carefully groomed man with a corrupt heart. “Money {s not all that 1s necessary to make a gentleman; though the sons of wealthy parents often have the opportunity of making gentlemen of themselves which are denied men born in poorer circumstances. The shame if it Is, though, that the opportunities offered are often thrown away.” SIMEON FORD: “In America the term gentleman cannot be so easily defined as in England, where {t ds practically confined to a class set apart from the men who are in trade, In this country the term applies, or should apply, to 2 man who posseases certain mental and moral attributes. A gentleman {s necessarily decent, Ho !s refined, cultured and educated. Wealth is not @ requisite. His appreciation of ‘the rights of others is his chief characteristic. His conduct is such as always to be based upon the rights society may demand of him." MRS. RUSSELL SAGE: “A pure heart, a clean mind and deep eense of courtesy and consideration for others at all times are the requisites of a gentleman. It lias been said that eome of our most perfect ladies and gentlemen (in the strict interpretation of the term) are found in the eimshouses to-day. A gentleman may be recognized in any olrcle no matter what his attire, and this goes to prove that position and wealth have nothing to 4o with the making of a gentleman. Environment brings out tho 00d and bad in a gentleman; and if a ohild ts reared in refinement he has the advantage of the child carelessly reared. You can always tell a gentleman by dis attitude toward others,” ASA BIRD GARDINER: “You ask me ‘What és a gentleman? and say that a Mr. Reginald C, Vander bit and a Mr, Al Adams have each lately given their respective oooupations as ‘gentlemen.’ Unfortunately, or not, in recent years persons have called them- selves ‘gentlemen’ simply because they had no occupation or no visible means of wappo: “In the time of Queen Eillsabeth and James I, and Chartes I. there were penalties attached to any one assuming the title of ‘gentleman’ who waa Only a yeoman or husbandman. Waoch in the old Colonial get tn society in these United States, the original signifipance of the title has been disregarded. “A gentleman was always entitied to a coat of arma The persons you have named are neither of them entitled to anything of the @ort. We have come in fecent years to broaden the Gefinttion and to say that any one is a gentleman who ¢s polite and courteous én demeanor and conducts himself properly and ts a permon of intelligence. “Whether or not either of the persons you have named comes within that category I do not know. Nowadays we always say a man ‘sa gentleman who and be fs-accepted as such. ¢ulfils these I rather think this te the best way.” HARRIET HUBBARD AYER: “Despite Gisadvantages of birth or education, despite lack of social opportunt- tiles, I regard any man who ts gentle in every act of bis Mfe, and especially in every act of his home iife, whose word is es good as his bond in business mat- ters, whose ideals are high and who earnestly tries to reach them, whose belief ‘o pure womanhood is indorsed by a life which has never degraded womanhood, whose humanity és eo broad that he sympathizes with the unhappy and holds forth a helping hant to the oppressed of every class, whoge creed is kindness, ‘honesty and charity—A’ GENTLEMAN,” THE DANCE. © Time! be gentle with me— No problems ‘deep—profound; Tm tn the wild Life quadirille— Tm ewingin’ Gaily ‘round! ‘The Chetstmes skies are snowtng— ‘The white world weather-bound; But etili the fiddle’s going— Ym swingin’ Sally ‘round! ‘The sad world’s griefe are hidden again.’ 17 From Dr, Edgar C, Beall, the famous career in which each is most likely Miss C. B., Broadway.—Intultive, pre- solent and almost olarvoyant; might develop powers on lines of telepathy, &c., but would doubtless be happler by cultivating normal abilities; noed physt- eal oulture; Md avoid white four, candy and coffee; age idealistic, poetle Iterary and dramatte; adore. harm rhythm, symmetry, euphony, pur|t delicacy; are extremely sympathetle, confiding and ingenuous; affections are tender and true; instincts are anti- commercial; have’ talent for the stage, but might fail from lack of health and magnetism; are very intellectual and should excel as teacher of Mterazure, languages, &c. Qilss H, G. M., Meserole street.— No grass grows under your feet; eome- thing 1s doing wherever you and everybody can see how it is done; tastes, talents, aims and methods ali practical; no star-gazing habits; wery ‘as to your native planet; no desire to re-incarnate till you must; need to consult no crystal globes, cards or coffee-grounds to alze up people; are helpful in sickness; never satisfied with homeopathic doses or treatments”; Uke to do many thin with your hands; much attached home, children and friends; should oul tivate language, would ‘a devoted wife; excellent as trained nurse, mas- seuse or bu woman, A DAINTY HOVUSE-COAG q ++ of the color of eyes and hair, and the principal @ certain voyage of soldiers to Portugal de- soribed in “Charles O'Malley," by Charles Lever ta famous for the incidental tales told by the ebarsctera to pasa the ¢!me. This 1s one told by ‘the regimental adjutant.) 44] T 1s now about eight, maybe ten, ] years since, that we were omered to march from Belfast and take up our quarters in Londonderry. “We found the natives shrewd business men, who paid us absolutely no atten- tion, to our chagrin, They seemed to have @ horror of our military, All but ® certain Mrs, Boggs. “When chance first threw me in the way of the fair widow some casual coincidence of opinion happened to raise me in her evimation, and I soon afterward received an invitaton to a small evening party at her house, to which I alone of the regiment was asked, 1 fell: desperately in love with her. “I soon discovered the widow's cue; she was serious, ‘While thua I was in no very san- gulne frame of ming as to my prospe;ts, in reality my progresk was very con-j siderable, having become a member of Mr, MePhun's congregation, I was gradually rising in the estimation of the widow and her friends, whom my constant attendancs at meeting, and my vory serious demeanor, had so far im- pressed, that very grave deliberation was held whether I shoulg not be made an elder at the next brevet. “It so chanced—what mere trifles aro we ruled by In our destiny!—that just as my suit with the widow had assumed {ta most favorable footing, old Gen. Hinks, who commanded the district, an- nounced his coming oyer to inspect our regiment. “This confounded inspection lasted till half-past five in the afternoon; so that our mess was dylayed a full hour in consequence, and i was past seven when we sat down to dinner. “‘No finching to-night,’ said the senior Major; ‘we've hed a severe day; let us also have a merry evening.’ . ‘A note for you, sir,’ sald the mess walter, presenting me with a rose-col- |, three-cornered: billet. It was trom te ebere Boggs herself, and ran thus: friends are coming to tea at my house 1fter meeting; perhaps you will also favor us with your company. “Yours truly, ELIZA BOGGS.’ “What was t6 be done? Quit a mese— leave a jolly party just at the jolliest moment—exchange good wine for @ soiree of elders presided over by that Sweet man, Mfr, McPhun! It was too bed; but then,'how much was in the seale! What would the widow say if I declined? What would she think? I well knew that the invitation meant nothing leas than a full-dress parade of me before her friends, and that to decline was perhaps to forfeit all my hopes in that quarter forever. ‘Any answer, sir?’ sald the walter. es,’ wold I, in & halt whisper, ‘T'll g0; tel! the servant I'll go.’ “At this moment my tender epistla {was filched from before me, and, ere I turned round, had made a tour of half the table. “T had scarcely finished off my glass and cleared my throat for my song when (ee clock on the chimney piece chimed f-past nine, and,the same instant I fait a heavy hand fall upon my shoulder. I turned and beheld my servant, Tim, ; ‘This, as I have already mentioned, was the hour at which Tim was in the habit of taking me home to my quarters, and, though we had dined an hour later, he took no notice of the circum- atance, but, true to his custom, he was behind my chair. A very cursory glance at my ‘familiar’ was quite sufficient to show me that we had somehow changed sides, for Tim, who was habitually the most sober of mankind, was, on the Present occasion, exceedingly drunk, mile I, a full hour before that con- mation, was perfectly sober. ‘What dy‘e want?" Inquired I, with something of severity in my manner. “Come home,’ sald ‘Tim, witn a hio- cough that set the whole table in a roar. “I sprung to my legs on this, but Tim was Weforehand with me, and seizing me by the waist with both hands, flung me across his shoulders as though I ‘were a baby, saying, at the same “'L'l take you away at 8.90 to-mor- Tow aight av you're as rampageous “I kicked, I plunged, I swore, I threatened, I even begged and implored him to be set down; but whether my wolce was lost in the uproar around me, or that Tim only regarded my de- nunciations in the Nght of cursing, I know not, but he carried me bodily down the stairs, steadving himself by one hand on the banisters, while with the other he held me as in «@ vise. 1 had but one consolation all this while; it was this, that, as my quar ters lay immediately behind the mess- room, Tim's excursion would goon come to an end, and I should be free once more; but guess my terror to find that the drunken scoundrel, instead of going, as usual, to the left, tamed short tq| the right hand, and marched boldly Into Ship Quay street. “very window in the messroom was filled with our fellows, absolutely shout- ing with laughter. “Go it, Thm—that's the tellow—hold him tight—never let go,’ cried a dozen voloes, while the wretch, with the tenac- ity of drunkenness, gripped me still harder, and took his way down the middle of the street. “It was a beautiful evening in July, @ soft summer night, as I made this pleasing excursion down the most fre- quented thoroughfare in the melden city; my struggles every moment ex- citing roars of laughter from an in-' creasing crowd of spectators, who seemed scarcely less amused than pus-| sled at the exhibition, In the midst of! & torcent of imprecations against ‘my torturer a loud nolse attracted me. I turned my head and saw—horror of horrors!—the door of the meeting-house just flung open, and the congregation Issuing forth en masse. It 1s any won- der if I remember no more? There 1 was, the chosen one of the Widow Bowma—the elder clect—the favored friend and admired associate of Mr. MePhun, taking an airing on a sum- mer’s evening on the back of a drunken Irishman! “The next day I obtalned a short lehye of absence, and, ere a fortnight expired, exchanged into the —th, preferring Hall- fax ligeif to the ridicule that awalted me in Londonderry.” Tasteful and becoming house coats make important items of every complete wardrobe. No. 4,143 is made of flowered dimity trimmed with embroidery and 1s exceed | ingly charming. The big collar and sty¥shly open neck, with ‘the fitted sleeved render {t peculiarly serviceable for warm-weather we: ‘The quanulty of material required for the medium aize ts 41-4 yards 27 inches wide, 81-2 yards 32 inches wide or 21-2 yards 44 inches wide. It will be mailed for 10 cents. ‘The pattern 4,142 is out in al: If in a hurry for your patterns send an extra two-cent pts and they will be promptly mailed by letter post In sealed ¢ Bend money to ‘Cashier, The World, Pulitzer Bulldir Amusements Matinee To-Morrow, 28c. to $1.00 2AND--KING DODO. Ga ‘k-—-ALICR FISCHER In ‘Mr Jack.” for a 82, 84, 36, 33 and 49 Inch Dust measure np for each pattern Lope. ew York Shy: | malt ‘Amusements URRECEI ‘ON 8 RK! Ud CONCERT @UNDAY NIGHT. |ATLE RES Tab Mal Success in Business Facial Traits.| phrenologist, studies Evening World readers’ faces from photograpsh, and gives practical advice eoncersing the to succeed. Dr. Beall will reply through The Evening World to any rzader over | ten years of age whe will send a photograph, accompanied by a de eseription| nationality of ancestors. Miss IL. E. B, Brooklyn.—Sharply Muted ear, full throat and other signs denote vocal talent; temperament adapt- ed to opera; some resemblance to Par- epa Rosa; should engage in a calling where personal magnetism and vigorous health are more important than book Knowledge; will never excel as a stu- y.\dent; are ‘very enthustastic, Impatient and ‘restless; learn easiest by observa- tlon, travel ‘and conversation; fond of soolety and should have a large dunk account; must be careful to able application you might do fine! |the stage: should work on dramatic Pry musteal fines J. F., Woodycrest avenue,—Ingenuous outspoken and unsuspicious; have little | whose many exploita of skill and courage in his career as “‘poet~ “WILD BILL” AND THE “BAD MAN.” Capt. ‘‘Jack’’ Crawford, the eloquent temperance lecturer, scout’ long since made hima prominent figure in the annale of the west, was the hero of a funny story, told by Opie Read in “‘Men of To-Day Who Make the World Laugh,’ in the Es ening World Home Magazine. This anecdote represented Capt. Jack asaceepting everybody knows Capt. ‘‘Jack’’ Crawford has never touched a drop of liquor, so the story was frankly ridiculous and & fabrication of falsely imagined that Opie Read’s account-was serious, Capt. Jack tells the following true version of the affair with the “bad mam,’* OW the truth fs this: In 187, in Cheyenne, “Wild Bil" (Jim Hickock), a brave, honest mam in Doublin's saloon, playing a game of casino while waiting for a party ffom the East, whom we were going to pilot to the Black Hills, when @ big, lanky six- ful of silver on the bar yelled again, “Whoop-la. I'm a wolf, and this ar’ my day to howl. Everybody up to the bar and irrigate yer innards." fellow stepped over to our table. Bill wore long hair, but it was up under his sombrero, “Certainly,” said Bill, “I'll be with you soon as I play this hand." “D—n the hand,’ sald the Wolf, and knocking the cards out of Bill's band Bill smiled, arose and said: “All right. Everything goes.” Then turning his attention to me the big fellow sald: “Come on, young fellow, a drink, offered by a ‘‘typical bad man’’ in a Western tavern. As the wildest sort, For the benefit of such readers as may have BY CAPT. “JACK” CRAWFORD. N (who had killed seventeen men who needed killing), was asltting with me me footer came rolling into the saloon and yelled “Whoop-la,” and throwing a hand- As was the custom, everybody but Bill and I promptly obeyed orders. The big jay, pard, ain't you in on thia scheme of trrigation?” said: “Ye'll drink now.” you're in on this, too" “No, thank you,’ said I. “I don’t drink." “Oh, you don't, eh? Wal, I reckon on special ‘casions ye do, an’ this is @ special. See?” “AM right," sald I, “I can take lemonade." ‘Lemonade nothin’. Ye'll take red liquor and straight. See?” “My friend,"' I said, ‘I don't want to quarrel with you, but I have @ood reasome for not drinking liquor, and I can't do it." About this time Bill touched the Wolf on the shoukler and in a voloe soft and gentle as a woman's sald: “My friend, that's my boy. I do ail his drinking for him." “Oh, you do, eh? Maybe you do his fightin’, too?’ At this saying: “Flere, men, you can’t fight on my account. You won't insist on my drink- ing, will you?” ‘The big fellow with one arm threw me back against the wall, sayin “Walt till I do your friend that does your drinkin’, an’ I’ fix you after.” He squared at Bil, who gradually backed up against the wall, motioning me with a look to keep out of the muss, When Wild Bill could go back no further on account of the wall he struck the, Wolf in the neck, and he went down. A dozen men looked on. Every ‘one of them knew Wild Bill, except (he stranger, who had tackled the man he had heard about but never had seen, Picking himself up plowly, and gulping as !f he had swallowed his pataeas ee looked at Bill, who was emiling before him, and said: “Bay, you strike like a Government mule, but you can't do {t again.” . » He squared himself again. The second time he went down, and now he mad; and as he got on one foot and one knee, recovering, he reached for gun. Before he could pull tt Bill had his in front of the Wolf's face, Just thes I jumped between them, craft, cunning or sagacity, especially in financial matters; ghould cultivate friendship with shrewd business men and post up on commervial lines; should study hygiene, get more sleep, practice deep breathing and eschew tea, coffee, fine flour and pork; mind {s active, but not well nourished; lack will power and energy; have q superior memory of his- to ma aw agiher, sclenc fin telligenci al ghatical: best in Titerar Ing, publishing or journ: THE OLD RELIABLE ROvA CEO Absolutely Pure THERE IS NO SUBSTITUTE. Amusements. ACERT ME TE ch St. de Irving PL were THE SUBURBAN. Prices, 25,50,75,81, Mate, Wed. & Gat. 2. Ev.8.15. NEXT Wit FRANK DANIELS shir P ASTOR’ oo at LE, $ WAIESTIG ot ne eer a WIZARD ‘OF Oz ee, Set Res wit Montgomery & Stone, |Sesis, 1.50 hear 34 are ou tas E. Evass, THERE & BACK ATLANTIC 3325, “War ar Canal St Mile, Adel ‘ield Biasnett & art's Orchestra, TORI, Br bio. Mots bate DAVID BHLASCO Presents ta’ THE USS Feedoenntl a iti, 2 BECASCO THEATRE iit fs | Bisou, (LAST? WREKS =e ln .| MARIE CAHILL, “NANCY BROWN.” HAPPY Next Week re (Yb avizse, HELLO, some one said: “Wild Bill, don't Jeti him,"* ‘The man's face blanched, and when Bill said: “You'd better reconsider that motion, and lay it on the table, The Wolf said in a most gentle tone of voice: “Bay, are you Wild BIN?” “That's what they call me. “Bay, I beg your pardon, pard. An’ your'n, youngster,” turning to me, “anf say, Bill, your boy can take a cigar, or a lemonade, or anything he wants, end arter takin’ water myself for the fust time In my life, by Jumbo, an’ to show you I want to be sociable, I'll jest take a lemonade myself." ~~ ‘And he did. And I had the pleasure of sceing that man awear off drink within two days, and he never drank liquor afterward as T knew him—up tll "88, Dr. Lyon’ $ Tooth Powder Used by people of refinement for over a quarter of a century AF. DDS CARPET CLEANSING Largest In the World. Every Detail, THE THOS. J. STEWART CO, ‘80 years’ perience. Broadway, cor. 46th St., New York, Erie and Sth Sts,, Jersey City WAREHOUSE AND MOVING VANS, ‘or telephone for interesting booklet. Why?" That is what you should know for your own sike. There isno negligence in the world more criminal than eye negligence. If the print blurs and your eyes smart and ache and tire easily you need glasses. and you need them to-day. Perhaps temporary resting glacses will do; perhaps you need glasses per- manently. At any rate, 1 will tell you the truth about your eyes, give you glasses only if necessary and then glasses absolutely correct. No bargain-counter methods. Correct Glasses, $1.00 up. Artificial Eyes, Inserted, $3.00, Wardkaris 32 Optical Specialist, 348 Sixth Ave. (bet. 21st and 22d sts.) STORA Amusements. CELEBRATED Amusements. HOO) NOL) Societe | vr moons ap ear NOW AT 1S) Reserves " Slaieee Vaudeville, Barcomms a.) CE UBER S iS sie sree eae 14TH ST, THEATRE, 2 2°r,..| SIN ANB S, ect emai “GREATEST HIT IN YE. THE 4 COHANS, as QU SL{ 1 New NOS Have cavan THE TOWN. | WALLICK’S RiEAEAE me, ¢ Be, Hein W.tavgy “heel asc Ae tt CHARLES HA ee aes OF SUEY roan ‘ GARRICK fodele tetra! 35th at. near Bway. Mats, Wed, & Sat., 215. ‘| SKIPPER & 60. WALL STREET. yew SAVOY 7 THEATRE, 3th & eae [MIXED PICKLES. Florence Reet, Frederic Bond, ‘Ned Howard Fowler. I2aINSL (son CRITERION THEATRE, B'way & 44th ot Last 6 Eves, 6.80. Oats, Wed. @ Sat., 2.15, STROM Rmare 70-1 evi, ‘CrackerJack —— EZRA KENDALL ™ Ey Nivpoan SL RROOAY NURS SOR 80. [GARDEN THEATRE, 27h #t.& Madison at Last 8 Bvgs., 8.90. Gate, Wed. & Sat, 3.30, nugupionme EVERYIIAN N SQ. THEA, 21th at, near Dwar 6.30, Mats, Thursday & Saturday, 2.99, estar *APOOLAM ee oi ALD 8.10. Mi ShACH'G GHORGH in PREDES DALY'S ¢ | CECiL SPOONER “Broadway & 334 ‘St. Eves. Whattan Sse MESS abst EARL UF PAWTUCKET, “ate ete METROPOLIS“ *f Calonaal Production 142d at, & 34 8 Ki TH’) a ¥. 2.18, ies at LADY becat GOES TO TOWN. ‘es 1d Ge. ‘Ss Bi ges ees aaa [Ww ESLEND ara MRS.