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\ 'll m * s§y>MM, 000 on T7 /TpV JLx L.. i > BIST HUMOR, MOVING PICTURES, VAUDEVILLE. ft fFr lUJi CAN ATLANTA, GA., SUNDAY, MAY 1! 1913 2 At the Giltsons’ Gay Musicale By Lewis Allen. Copyright, IK, hy the Star Company. Great Brttain Right* Reaerve, K8 VAN DER GUSHE (A* string sextette beg,»*- " TUT .train! from "Lucia" )-Oh. Mr. Glisten, don't you Just adore the MR TlTsTON (Trying to appear comfortable)—Can t say. Never MR. G1L ™ V J UmoU6ln e7 Mine la a ninety-horse power— STRANGER (On Giltson's right)-Theee thing* are torture. | " eVer arteTtitem except when I have to. How did you happen to ho ru TRON—Duty. You have my sympathy. VOICE fA. masie suddenly .topxJ-Nev.r heard of Glltson until he “‘^GER Oilt.on) Who ,s the — with the ptomaine expression on her face over hy the door f S£le GILTSON (Looking, then smiling gtimly) That giving the musicale, you know is giving things: no one wouid pay for STRANGER—You have to give these tninga, them MRS. VAN DER OUSHE-Tlie Barcarole from "Hoffman GIL8TON—I'd rather play pinochle according to Hoyle. MRS VAN DER GUSHE My dear Mr. Glltaon. I am referring to .v. » —« »” —' 1 MaH ^- d E^ MONT^Rd' eA never — 1 een either have a cigarette or do a little tango with HER ESCORT—What say we do the sneak and go up to Hausmittums for a bracer? PENELOPE—It’s a go. (They tip-toe out.) OILTBON (As red-headed woman begin, to play viohn)-Sutlerm stone-crusbere. STRANGER (On hit right)—What say? GILTSON—Where on earth did Maria pick up that human torch? Of all the Jokes on the human anatomy STRANGER-That air. is my daughter. May I ask you who you * re ~GILTSON Oh, never mind me; I'm only the husband of the freak with the ptomaine-poison expression. (Stranger exits hastily.) MRS SWELLEHTON (Whispering hoarsely to young man on her left) LDear me. these Giltsons are newly-rich. and so coarse and- YOUNG MAN—And pikers; eh. what? MRS. SWELLEIv TON (Relieved)-Slang Is so expressive at times. Have I evei met you before? YOUNG MAN—Nope; I’m the coarsest one in the family MRS SWELLERTON (Nervously) I don t quite YOUNG MAN (Grinning)—Mv name Is Glltson, but 1 assure you l’d been here if mother hadn’t Insisted. (Mrs. Swellerton, red of face, nastily exits.) S R ENNERY UPSINSDOWNS (Awakened from dose as orchestra op,ns with Wagner's "Pilgrim’s Chorus")-My word, what bally discord- j_ eh wtiat? oh, to be sure, the musicale. (Falls asleep again.) FIRST BASS VIOL (As string snaps)—Donnerwetter! ERNIE HAROLD MACPUSH-Tee-bee! Tee-hee! HIS MOTHER—Hush, Ernie; I know the Giltsons are crude and funny, but be a little gentleman. TENOR (Supposed to he sispinpJ-Dreee-inker—tulimuh. O-o-o —knlee—whlh—thinize HORACE MUDGETT (Mrs. Gilt son's country wish these gingers wouldn’t use them foreign languages. HIS WIFE—Hush, Hod; some one might hear you. That Is English. He » singing ‘‘Drink’ HORACE—Wish T could, hut that Isn’t either singin’ or English. VOICE (At tenor finishes)—Breaking her neck to get Into society. but G1LTSON—Isn't this junk pretty near over? MRS VAN DER GUSHE—How droll you are, dear Mr. Glltson. yes, thl, is the last number Dvorak’s “Humoresque." GII.TSON—Huh? MRS. VAN DER GUSHE—Dvorak's “Humoresque.” GILSTON—Oh, yes; he is funny. I heard him at some vaudeville the etShe/ night doin’ a monologue in blackrace. He sure is funny. I didn’t know Marla got him MRS 8WELLER (To her,elf)—Miserably slow. (To Mrs. Glltson, who"sit, beside her for a moment) A great success, my dear Mrs. Glltson; rve been enraptured every minute. GILTSON (To Mrs. Von Der Gushe)—Here, this Is nothing but an or ehestra piece. I thought this d applause. Every one moves about and gets up. Glltson hurries to ' ° wife.) GILTSON—Say. Marla, I thought you was going to have Morts, the humorist. MRS GILTSON—John Giltson, la that a Joke? It sounds vulgar enough (HUTSON—No; thin ain’t no joke. Mrs. Van Der Gushe said you were going to have him last MRS. GILTSON (Coldly)—Look at yonr programme. She told you th-> laat number was Dvorak's "Humoresque"—a monologue—you—oh. thank you. Mrs. Sweller. so glad you enjoyed It. SIR ENNERY UPSINSDOWNS—My word, dealt Mrs Glttterson, never heard such dashed fine music—never (Babel of voices, expressing their delight at musicale and making their adieux to hostess.) GILTSON (After Inst guest departs)—Thank MRS. 0LIT80N (Sharply)— John, write a oheck for *800. GILTSON—For what? MRS. GILTSON—For the musicians. GILTSON—Sufferin’ fishes. I thought they had to pay us (Sound of scratching „1 pen in check book.) CURTAIN. Sam, the Drummer By T. E. Powers, the Famous Cartoonist QO To BALTIMORE AND SEE IF You CANT SELL PER KIN 5 looo dozen sprinq waists, g-et a WiqqLE on You BECAUSE: I HEAR Bilkin 5 8^Co Are after histkade, "V I Q-ET You, boss: J So You ARE OOIN^To BALTIMORE HoW STKANQE, &o AMI, . J DONT KNOW A SOUL THERE. miiiiiwilffll i N till 1 v £ Yes lb Just Love to have Xoo SHOW ME THE ToWN BUT You MUSTNT CALL ME NELLIE AQAIN.MY NAME 15 Miss Jones I ■? \ r 1 JUST WAIT HERE |||’WHILE I <dOlN AND SEND ATELEQRAH AND WRITE A LETTER.. don't move TILL L ConnE BACK. 5A^ SAT! IF A LADY COMES HERE AND ASKS FblCME TfcLL HER IVE QoNETo PERKINS] STORE AND ILL I RiqHT BACK f MR PERKIN 5 JM From BILKIN5 QtCo. I WANTTo SHOW Yoo A NEW LINE 'op WAISTS 'SEND ME IOOO DOZEN f FAREWELL CRUEL WORLD.'] 5 CL __ Ponies and Carts! Where is the boy or girl who wouldn’t like to drive one of them. The Sunday American and the Georgian are Giving Them Away Why I Hate to Go to Ball Games By De Wolf Hopper (He’s Barely Seer, at the Grounds—in the Winter.) Copyright, 1913. by the Star Company. Great Britain Rights Reserved. B ASEBALL! That’s u game I hate. And the reason 1 go to the game every day is because it does a man good to feel hateful a few hours out of every twenty-four. All smiles and no growls makes Jack an awful boob. They call hasehall the national game. It’s a lie. Chickens are the national game. 1 ought to know; I’ve hunted them all my life. And do you realize that those baseball players are the greatest home-wreckers in the country? Why, they enter into a conspiracy In every game to tie the score in the ninth, so that they can play half a dozen extra Innings and make seven thousand fans late to dinner. Then they all repair to their dressing rooms and gloat over what seven thousand little wifies say when seven thousand little hubbies come inarching home. I’d rather come home at S o'clock in the morning than S in the even ing. any day. A hot breakfast is far more to tie desired than a cold din ner. • • • Another disadvantage that baseball suffers as compared to grand opera is that one can never buy Indian nuts at the ball park. (I always call peanuts Indian nuts because of the red skins.) In the loft where I roost at the opera the opera fans are always cracking nuts, jokes, etc. Rut at the hall game there is nothing to eat. drink or be merry about. The players all sit down on a nice soft little concrete bench, with a keg of ice water in the corner, while we sit out on the broiling bleachers and turn Into blonds! Why use peroxide? Let Hie sun rays make your little golden locks. Then those players are always such a cold, dispassionate, unmusical, inharmonious, discordant bunch. How many times I’ve tried to get a little quartet together 1*0ween the innings and start a little song. Well, I could always find a first bass and a second bass, hut never a sopralto. And if 1 mentioned the word tenner they’d all swear they were broke and chase me to the box office. Americans think they know a lot about baseball. How about the Japs? Uhl you ever stop to realize that the Japanese make the greatest fans In the world? I hate hasehall because I’m afraid of the umpire. When a man’s so ferocious you have to put a muzzle on him it’s time to run him Into an asylum and not allow him rampant on the ball field. Even the catcher has to put on a stralghtjacket and hide his fape In a cage for fear the umpire will bite him. Some people don’t lielleve that umpires are fed on raw meat. Well, they are. That’s what makes them growl whenever the ball is thrown. Now. I’ll let you In on a little secret. You never stopped to think about the winter quarters of the umpires, did you? They’re up in Grunt Park in the animal house. In training for five months, caged up and chained down. Yet the temerity with which some of the players walk right up to the umpire and start to argue with him would lead one to think that the umpire isn’t a wild man. They call hasehall the great American game, but why should Ameri cans be so keen about it? I can see why every other nationality should like It hut Americans. The Englishman likes baseball because he likes to see the pitcher put the English on his demnitlon curves. The Scotch man can appreciate it on account of the highballs, and the Irishman loves the game because lie’s the only one who can play it. * * • Take the South African. He's an expert on the diamond, while the Australian is the guy who started the bush leagues. The Bulgarian comes to tiie games because he likes to catch the pitcher balkin’, and, as I said liefore, the Jap is crazy about it on account of the fans. And when the Spaniard is away from home lie goes to a baseball game where he ean hear the eoachers throw the bull. So you can readily see that baseball is supported by our foreign visitors. * * * Now. far be It from me to knock the game. If I wanted to do those people real harm I’d get the smallpox and walk around in the grand stand with it two or three afternoons. The reason I hate it Is because Pm entirely too familiar with it, and familiarity breeds contempt, in fact. 1 laiglu say, most transcontlnentall.v, that I ain so familiar with hasehall that I am actually wedded to if. Hul cricket ah, there’s the terrible game. There are eight million and thirty seven runs to every game, and if a man can't register a thou sand runs every time he comes to the hat they rail him a bally rotter. That's what they call the fellow who strikes out In base- hall, you know. One game of cricket lasts about a week- sort of a six-day race, except that instead of the players riding wheels they carry the wheels in their heads. It's the laziest game manufactured. Each player hats once during the day, and the rest of the time he eats, sleeps and watches the others. At night they all lie around in the grass and listen to the Crickets sing, just to keep their minds on the game. If there’s one game that truly delights me it's golf. As old Han Daly used to sa.v, it’s the game where you hit the ball and then go and hunt for it. If you find it liefore sunset you win the game. I once played in a jolly little foursome with two ladies and another Iierson. Well. 1—I missed the ball and—and broke my promise, and— and for the next five minutes you would NEVER have known that there were any ladies present at all. Rut when 1 saw them faint I resolved then anu there that all my future golfing excursions would he decidedly onesoraes. Whenever I get the golt fever now I just detach my cuffs and run around the links.