The evening world. Newspaper, April 19, 1913, Page 9

Will Oscar's Famous Hat Fit Arthur? @ Wii her THE EVE ) NING WORLD, Not Without Padding, Answers the Son| | And Anyhow, if He Saw It Coming He Would Do Hie Level Best to Dodge Tt. Tells of Tricks of the Trade in Grand Opera and Others Played by Mischievous Trentini. Charles Darnton. ILL father’s hat fit Arthur? This, in other words than those used here, is the ques @rees possibilities. But I have it from tf rising young manager himself that bis ambition does not soar to beight of the ancestral hat. g a an H § a ii inal z & } ft ae peer Jost three mtltons, And a week later he had possession of the property where the Victoria now stands, without having paid a single cent of cash down. But I wouldn't attempt to duplicate his life for any eum of money. He has been through more than any ten great os ie can name.” statement sounded a bit ex- travagant it was not my. business to challenge it. It's easy to believe any- thing you hear about Oscar Hammer- stein, And without any evident fear of contradiction his son asserted: “Father is a great man. To be an impresario liko him a man must be an habitual optimist an well as a fighter who will never admit he is licked. In the days of the Manhattan Opera Com- Pany we got out of the way when father came around with @ soft hat on, for that always meant trouble, We knew his temper was anything but soft, But when he arrived in his tall hat we felt sure all was well, at least for the time being, It may have been that the high hat left more room for brain storms, There was always plenty of temperament around the opera house, but I must say that in our fam- lly St begins at home, So far as my father is concerned it seems to be Atchea to his hat. I have a high hat eenest like his, bet I haven't worn it since the opera house closed. I slick to @ derby,” “And that means you've nothing to worry you now?” “Haven't I, though!” he exclaimed, laughing bitterly. “The most dangero thing a mani singer. In grand opera he has in the form of his repertory. If a sing- er gets fresh he can change the bill. But in light opera he 4s completely at ‘the mercy of a tar. For example, Sketches From Life of Exaggerated Forms of Balkan Blouses. “dust HER LITTLE JORE + mene WAS PLAVPuL to me one night when appearing at the Casino and @n't feel itke singing. ‘Why you jired. ‘No,’ she it to see @ show.’ And away be went, leaving me to put on an un- ly. A Httte tater Lee Shubert rushed in and demanded: ‘What does to sing at my theatre, Why isn't she here?’ ‘Ask her,’ I suggested, throwing up my hande, “Buccess makes singers impossible,” he continued, wearily. Ong has to be diplomatic. There were times at the ;}or-ra house when I had te be Prima donna. A box was filled with friends of the tenor, and whenever the prima Gonna was singing they would turn thelr backs to the stage. But when the tenor sang they would make @ tremendous demonstration, The prima donna stood this for two acts, and then | her ‘temper-ament’ got the bet of her, As the tenor came off the stage she grabbed him and pushed him against the wall, and it took all my efforts, together with those of two stage hands, to separate then During my grand opera days I learned one curious freak of temperament—singers of the e voice would not speak to one another, “One tenor went stil further. He would not let the ourtain go up if he Nae \ saw another tenor in the audience, One Might he actually compelled me to pu" a rival singer out of @ box. Tetrazzini had the strangest idea of all. Before her entrance she would stand in the wings and drop @ little dagger that she atvays carried, If it tuck upright in the floor she would accept this as an omen that she would give a good per- formance. A funny thing happened at a Saturday matinee—that is, it seems funny now, A French tenor who was to sing Samson in ‘Samson and Delilah’ sent @ letter at 12 o'clock saying he would not appear unless my father sig.. d @ contract with him for the fol- Jowing year. Ho knew that all the cther tenors of the company were out ot town, Tho order 1 got was: ‘Find another tenor somehow, somewhere, be quick about it!’ After a long, earch I discovered a tenor who knew the role in # cafe, He wasn't in his Doesn’t the Balkan Blouse Justify What Gen. Sherman Said About War? Take the wildest dream of a cubist and ‘transfer It to a silk waist pattern— you have the Balkan blouse, Take @ meal bag or a potato sack, turn It UD- side down and te a ribbon around the opening—you have the chic lines of the Balkan blouse-co: Both achieve- ments are the very latest. Women love ‘em—what's more, wear ‘em, Balkan hostilities in the Far East ars responsi- ble for Balkan fashions in the Far West, Which fact goes far toward con- vincing the impartial observer that Bherman told the truth about war. Balkan color schemes are ye tinctly futuristic, Studying them one explanation of the myeterious Btair- case.” She really wasn't nude at all; eho was wearing a frook of Bulgarian hues. As for the designs stamped n the strangely dyed allksy they geometry on a Jag. The Balkan blouse coat of elongated Russian blouse, the thing that Is #0 becoming to small boys and lean, eleven-year-old girls, Sometimes it ends at the hips, sometimes at the | Ienees, aumetimes at a point midway | Dotween. It's guiltless of fit and no | Moralist can ever censure it for an) undue display of the figure, In fact, you can get along perfectly well with- | out @ waist line if you wear a Bul-| sarian blouse, | ‘Another weird feature is the sash, | from six to eighteen inches in width, with which the blouse coat ends off. The color of the eash usually con: | traats sharply with the tone of the coat, and it has‘long fringed ends! which cross over at the left side. The whole design is immensely be- coming-—to the lady who neither has a figure nor any aspirations for one, are Is a sort, | ©} room at the hetel was next t> mine, | another “A SOFT HAT ALWAYS MI TRous “TLL DODGE My PATWER'S war? | |pretty girl. All eyes are centred on the play. MaZased. be deat form, but we hustied him te the opera house, dressed fim and fairly pushed him on the stage, This Samson ‘was so uncertain in his movements that fell against them and sent all the ecen- ery tumbling before the right time.” “LAfe must scom rather dull to you now?" I concluded, “Oh, no, it = fairly lively,” he re Joined, brightly. “Satistying the de- mands of a nine-ntar cast, in the matter of dressing room: even harder work than running boarting house. But Trentini beats them all. She can make more trouble— without really meaning to do #o—than & dozen women twice her aise. She is lttle—but oh, my! Her sense of humor {s both strung and atrange. Once when ane was playing 1. Buston hor I went to bed, but not to sleep, Slowly but surely the sheet was pulled off the bed. Jumping up, I looked ator the | dea, but found no ona thare, I yorked | back the sheet oniy to fee! it being | pulled off again. A wild idea of a haunted room seized me. I tried to turn on the Mghts, but they wouldn't work. Then I struck matches, and finally solved the mystery. Strings tied to the sheet ran under the covr into the neat room, Trentint's next joke was to have her maid sew the sheets of my bed to- gether fol out two feet at the bottom, so that I had to sleep doubled up. On sion, at 7.80 in the e' ing, Trentin| was missing. At the moment she appeared in her dressing room, and with great glee informed me that while I had been hunting for her in, the hotel she was hiding under her bed. Only last week, when I went to Boston to see how ‘The Firefly’ was getting on another playful attention was pald me. As soon as I got into bed I felt something burning me. suspecting that Trentint was up to her old tricks, or a new one, I proceeded to investigate and found an electric fron under the sheets, To make things still more pleauant for me, she had sprinkled the bed with a mixture of powder and flour. This brings me to the last qualification of an Impresarfo—he must be able to live without steep.” instead of pulling the pillars down he Baseball Girl of 1913 1s a picture, But don't imagine for her sole duty in the Polo Grounds ts one of decoration. Stat SATURDAY, APRIL 19, 1913. The Baseball Girl Fan o Knows ‘Bone’ nd minute that ing on @ chair and frantically waving an automobile veil, ehe can teli the High landers or the Giants when to start a double-steal, And, moreover, she does. Her leap to the chair ts not to attract attention, And this picture of excited femininity is lost to the crowd, because she is a fam—a wise fan, at that—and knows when to leap, At her moments of excitement it is no time to look at a Instead of being « target for waded paper and other harmless missiles, as in the olf days, the Baseball Giri of 1918 resumes her seat with = bu round her of: “She knows the game. She's one of ux. ith @ score card always in her hand she takes time between spells excitement to see that it is accurately kept. “Was that, hit or an error?’ she aske of anyone that happens to be near. And@ from her ik expression they know ehe ts not merely trying to start a conversation. I guess It would be an error, “I'm going to score it a hit, is the reply. she Mnally eays, efter biting the end of her pencil for a efoment. ‘That ball was too hard hit t Randle, Give the flelder the benefit of the doubt.” ‘The deauty of the Baseball Girt of 191%, and that which makes her honestly admired, Is that ehe goes to the Polo Grounds to enjoy baseball, She is no Jemonade-sipping, guin-ohewing bit of daintiness, who wants to know why Hal ‘Chase wears red jersey sleeves under & Dlue-striped shirt and parte his hair on the side. Not she, She knows his batting average {rom the day he fret ect out from the Coast. . Our new baseball girl, in her enthustagm over the game fteelf, Ras Rit con- ventionality squarely in the head—"“Beaned’’ it, she would eay. Bhe goes’ to the game without an escort and does not need one. She can’t bé bothered with man to whom she has to explain the game, has her box seat by the season and can be found there every Gay. Ghe does not write perfumed notes to the players. Rather would she see them traded if they can’t hit the bail. In other words, the Baseball Girl of 1913 ts an honest-to-goodness thirty-third- degree rooter, with baseball records ase part of her daily diet, In the Giants’ Club House Before and After the Game A Comedy in Two Acts and Some Scenes. By Bozeman Bulger. SCENARIO. At the pertod in which thie story be- pine a member of the Giants’ Baseball Club Rad pulled a “bone,” meaning o play that reeulte from a boney growth in the head inatead of brain. The effect fe not developed until the ‘second act. For thie reason two sie tinct ecenes are necessary. The first shows the clubhouse at 10 o'clock im the morning, when all t# gay and the air te full of eong and gladsome shouts. Two boys are seen Ranging up uniforme to dry and arranging table and chaire for awh pastimes ae checkers, bridge, vingt-et-un and imnoru. The second ecene shows the same clubhouse at 6 o'clock P. M., with sone hushed, boys in the far background and ‘no table and no jokes, The rubble oan be heard without. ACT I. Roy enters, attired in discarded mace of a Giant player, with clarette dangling Umply from his lips and bear- ing armful of newspapers. He dumps them on bench near which are square wooden cuspidors filled with sawdust | for convenience of tobaceo chewing | readers, Three players reach for the) papers and one of them turns to sport: | ing page. Other two look for stock market table WILTSE—Say, boy, can't you get a paper with the opening quotations? MATHEWSON (interrupting )—What | do you expect? Th nothing in these papers but rewritten stories and) sporting stuff, 1 don't «et a stock table unt!] Wall street editions, BOY—The feller sald tt latest papers, and two of scores. Ain't there no sporting stuff | there? | MATHEWSON — Never mind about! the sporting stuff. (Turns to Wilten) | Say, George, I wouldn't be in any hurry to buy that Pennsylvania preferred, anyway, It's eo to be off @ couple | of points befor osing. | RECRUIT (reading sporting page)— Matty, who 1s this fellow “Mesars. i wai umpiring up here? He was also umpiring out in the Tri-State when I played . Do you use three umpires here? MATHEWSON — What's that? “Messrs”? (Picke wp paper and sees where names of umpires are printed ne “Mosare. Kiem and Ort hows It to othere, and there te @ loud laugh at expense of recruit.) Enter several playere who have juat Amtehed their hour vf practice. They yank off their uniforme and with loud shoute run for the shower Bath, A loud the ewimming strenuously engaged im trying to duck Big Jef Tee- " They all get ducked themselves. They emerge from tank, rushing all over clubhouse, their akin glistening from cold water. It t@ now about 18 o'clock and Wi- 40n, Ameo, Mathewson and Merkle draw up chatre to table and start a game of auction bridge. They are all export players, They are frequently die- turbed by thrown towels, wadded up paper and water thrown from a dipper, BOY (carrying large jar for soup and tin paile for coffee)—What do you want for lunch? (Players crowd round, giv- ing orders and then changing them, to confusion of boy. He fnully speaks with dectsimn and finality.) 1 guess Ll bring ten ham and ex@ sandwicnes, woup for aix and two buckets of Enter email, stockily built man with a bustling takes in everything and then goce into «@ private office, In a few minutes he comes out attired in uniform. Aa won Ga he entere all notece suddenly cease. Playere reach for their gloves and yive impreasion of having just got ready to go on feld. McGRAW-—-Wasn everybody out this morning? (Means out on practice feld.); GHORUS—All except one of the boys, who ts laid up with a cold, McGRAW--Better get out there, 1 xuesn; We'll need some batting pr ire exits company toward ball ACT II. It ia 6.80 o'clock, and Be. the colored trainer of Gianta, house alone except for a pi haa beon knocked from bor and rubbing table, Aa trainer mag Mackall, tn club- on} eo incoherently. PITCHER (on rubbing table)—You ie pa a ais gee me here, don't you? 1 started and Was going good. MACKALL—Oh, somebody batted for you. PITCHER—One of the Brooklyn ‘el-/ lows got hold of a lucky one for & jome run and when the aide was out) somebody batted for me. Entor another athieto—a pinch hitter, Attitude gloomy. TRAINER (to mewcomer) — Wha doing? PITCHER (from rubbing table)—Did we ket anything in elghth? | PINCH HITT got on, but they put for me, Pulled # bone and was caught. Rabble of mob ta heard without und athictea know game ia over. Enter three or four young ball play- | era, dripping with perspiration and run-! ning hurriedly to bath eo as to avoid conversation im front room. Whole| team follows immediately, There are mprintable exclamations of one and! amiling. | Hie name lone Nothing ever distur is Hartley. HARTLEY athlet hw Say, fellows, did you r that one that the bitsher pulled about "Mesnrs.”? CRANDALL —Cheeso stuff Chorus of stage comes Mack!" (Bu interested (nm locker.) McGRAW--Do you fellows rememoer what that speaker down in Knoxvill gald about that town producing mg hardwood and marble than any city the country? (There is no answer, a. if expecting manager to continue. He! does.) Well, we've got Knoxville tet! Three players are called into private | office. They emerge somewhat crest-| fallen on the joke wMepers: “Hore yoody is suddenly ‘Jungle Land.” CHORUS (low and eullen-like) — ‘ Plays Ai : Emcee, Cheese on the harmony. Can that Bar- bershop stuff! Bali playere are now eacaping frou every eat ctlently end with catlike tread. Presently the manager te alone os- cept for one caller. McGRAW—And still they brag on the hardwood end marble products of Knoxville! Dona raincoat and accompanied by friend exits. , Lights out. CURTAIN. pret al aa The “Nickel Beat.” Our old friend, High-Cost-of-Léving, has made five cents seem a very small sum of money, but your correspondent regretfully has to report the cage of a youthful fellow aitizen, who, being possessed of an unusual capacity for quick thinking, succeeded in @ mort improper attempt to save @ nickel. The writer was coming downtowm on f& Sixth avenue elevated train one after- noon during the off hours and was buy- ing @ ticket at one of the Columbus avenue stations, A Ninth avenue train vue standing at the platform, the guard with his hands on the handles und just about to close the gates. This wasn't the train the writer wanted, however, so he walked leisurely toward the ticket choppe: ly @ well grown boy, an entire stranger, rushed up from behind, slapped him on the whoulder, shouted: “Goodby, old top! ee you to-morrow!” and dashed aboard the car There few people about the station, so our misguided young friend had taken a chance-~end got away with it--that the station man were very window, and that the latter was to pay bis fare One player in bath temporarily | would think him @ companion ef te |incon lea the pitcher occasionally growls | yorgets hinaelf und starts strat bar of| gone who had juat come from the saset