Newspaper Page Text
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JA i- k
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BEST HUMOR, MOVING
PICTURES, VAUDEVILLE,
ATLANTA. GA., SUNDAY, MAY 31, 1913.
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
At the Giltsons’
Gay Musicale
By Lewis Allen.
Copyright, rn,. hy th. Star Co^ny Gr.at BrHa,» Rights —,
vim HER GUSHE (As Hiring sextette begin, best known
ll/r ZralTfZ^aV-Oh. M, 0.1—. *»* vou just adore the
MR TrSTON (Trying to appear oomfortabie)--Cnn t say. Never
T no is louring or limousine" Mine is a ninety-horse power—
0W ” STRANGER (On GUI son', tight)- These things are torture_ I never
attenf^em except when . have to. How did you happen to he here?
GILTSON Duty. You have my sympathy.
VOICE IA. m,..v ,«M»IV »»"> 011 "”" "*
""ek I To OIIIW»J--Wto e. ft «•
.loo on her faoe over by the door?
GILTSON (Looking, then smiling gri ml y)-Thafs Mrs. Glitaon. hhe
4« riving the musicale, you know
STRANGER-You have to give these thing.; no one wouid pay r
them—— „
MRS VAN DER GUSHE-The Barcarole from “Hoflman
GILSTON—I’d rather play pinochle according to Hoyle.
MRS VAN DER GUSHE-My dear Mr. Glltson, I am referring to
-szzzzzz- .0.««
“"'lOTI^’ra'MONTFOKD (A *•"* °” l '“ *
can either have a cigarette or do a little tango with t>
^R ESCORT-What say we do the sneak and go up to Kausmlttums
for a bracer?
PENELOPE—It's a go. (They tip-toe out.J
‘ GILTSON (AS red-hearted woman begins to play violin)-*ufterln
gtone-crushers.
STRANGER (On his right)—What say?
GILTSON-Where on earth did Maria pick up that human torchr
Of all the jokes on the human anatomy
STRANGER—That sir, U my daughter. May I ask you who you
are_ GILTSON—Oh, never mind me; I'm only the husband of the freak
with the ptomaine-poison expression.
(Stranger exits hastily.)
MRS SWELLERTON (Whispering hoarsely to young man on her
left.-Dear me. these Giltsons are newly-rich, and so. coarse and
YOUNG MAN—And pikers; eh. what?
MRS. SWELLERTON (Relieved)-Kang Is so expressive at times.
H ive I ever met you before?
YOUNG MAN—Nope; I’m the coarsest one In the family
MRS SWELLERTON (Vervonsly) I don’t quite
YOUNG man (Grinning)—My name Is Glltson, but J assure you I’d
never been here if mother hadn’t Insisted.
(Sirs. Bwellcrton, red of face, hastily exits.)
SIR ENNERY UPSIN8DOWNS (Awakened from doze as orchestra
opens With Wagner's “Pilgrim’s Chorus”)-My word, what bally dlscord-
l _ et what? Oh, to be sure, the musicale. (Falls asleep againJ
FIRST BASS VIOL (As string snaps)—Donnerwctter!
ERNIE HAROLD MACPUSH—’Tee-heel Tee-bee!
HIS MOTHER—Hush, Ernie; I know tile Giltsons are crude ana
funny, but be a little gentleman.
TENOR (Supposed to be singing)—Dreee—inker-Muhmuh. O—o—o
—kn lee—whlh—thlnize
HORACE MUDGETT (Mrs. Qiltson’s country cousin)—I wish these
singers wouldn’t use them foreign languages.
HJS WIFE—Hush, Hod; some one might hear you. That is English.
He * singing "Drink”
HORACE—wish I could, but that Isn’t either singln’ or English.
VOICE (As tenor finises,)—Breaking her neck to get Into society.
bit
GILTSON—Isn’t this junk pretty near over?
MR? VAN DER GUSHE—How droll you are, dear Mr. Glltson. Yes,
this is the last number-Dvorok’s "Humoresque.’’
GILTSON—Huh?
MRS. VAN DER GUSHE—Dvorak's "Humoresque.”
G11 jSTON—Oh, yes; he Is funny. I heard him at some vaudeville the
otiier night doin’ a monologue in blackface. He sure Is funny. I didn’t,
knov Marla got him
MRS SWELLER (To herself)—Miserably slow. (To Mrs. Gilt son,
Who siU beside her for a moment) A great success, my dear Mrs. Glltson;
I’ve been enraptured every minute.
GILTSON (To Mrs. Van Der Oushe)—Here, this is nothing but an or
chestra piece. I thought this
(low' applause. Every one moves about and gets up. Gillson hurries to
wife.)
rilTSON—Say. Marla, I thought you was going to have Morts, tbe
humorist.
MRS. GILTSON—John Glltson, is tfcat a joke? It sounds vulgar
enough
GILTSON—No; this ain’t no joke. Mrs. Van Der Gushe said you
were going to have him last
MRS. GILTSON (Coldly)—Look at your programme. She told you
tho last number was Dvorak’s "Humoresque”—a monologue—you—oh.
- thank you, Mrs. Sweller, so glad you enjoyed It.
SIR ENNERY UPSINSDOWNS—My word, deah Mrs. Glltterson,
never heard such dashed flue music—never.
</label of voices, expressing their delight at musicals and making their
adieux to hostess.)
GILTSON (After Iasi guest departs)—Thank
MRS. GLITSON (Sharply)—John, write a check for 1800.
GILTSON—For what?
MRS. GILTSON—For the musicians.
GILTSON—Sufferin' fishes. I thought they had to pay us
iBound of scratching of p-n in check book.)
CURTAIN.
Sam, the Drummer
By T. ( E. Powers,
the Famous Cartoonist
qo To Baltimore and see if
You cant sell Perkins looo
Dozen sprinq waists, &et a
■WiqcjLE ON You BECAUSE I HEAR
Bilkins&CoAre after histrade
■ ' ■ ■ ■■■■■■- 111 ■ ■v!,, 1 n m m
so You ARE GOINq To BALTIMORE |jilljljjilj
HoW STRANGE, SO AMI.
I donY KNOW A SOUL THERE.
Why I Hate to
Go to Ball Games
By De Wolf Hopper
(He's Barely Seen at the Grounds—in the Winter.) ''<j
Copyright, 1913, by the Star Company. Great Britain Bights Reserved.
B ASEBALL! That’s a game I hate. And the reason I 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 baseball the national game. It’s a lie. Chickens are the
national game. I ought to know; I've hunted them all my life.
And do you realize that those ! -use ball players are the greatest
home-wreckers in the country? Why, they enter into a conspiracy in
every game to tie the shore 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
marching home.
I’d rather come home at 8 o clock In the morning than 8 in the even
ing. any day. A hot breakfast is far more to be 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
eall peanuts Indian nuts liecause of the red skins.) In the loft where
I roost at the opera the opera fans are always cracking nuts, jokes, etc.
But at the ball 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 the sun rays make
your little golden locks.
Then those players are always such a
cold, dispassionate, unmustcal, Inharmonious,
discordant bunch. How many times I’ve tried
to get a little quartet together between the
innings and start a little song. Well, I could
always find a first bass and a second bass,
but never a sopralto. And if I 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? Did you ever
stop to realize that the Japanese make the
greatest fans in the world?
I hate baseball 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
tbe ball field. Hven the catcher has to put on a straightjacket and hide
his face In a cage for fear the umpire will bite him. Some people don’t
believe that umpires are fed on raw meat. Well, they are. That’s what
makes them growl whenever the ball is th; own. Now, I'll let yon In on
a little, secret. You never stopped to think about the winter quarters
of the umpires, did you? They’re up in Grant 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 baseball the great American game, but why should Ameri
cans be so keen about it? I can see why every other nationality should
like it but Americans. The Englishman likes baseball because he likes
to see the pitcher put the English on his demnitton curves. The Scotch
man can appreciate it on acconnt of the highballs, and the Irishman
loves the game because he’s the only one who can play it.
* 4 •
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 the games because he likes to catch the pitcher balkin’, and, as I said
before, the Jap is crazy about it on account of the fans. And when the
Spaniard is away from home he goes to a baseball game where he can
hear the coachers throw the bull. So you can readily see that baseball
is supported by our foreign visitors.
4 4 4
Now, far be it from me to knock tbe 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
I’m entirely too familiar with it, and familiarity breeds contempt. In
fact, I might say, most transcontlnentally,. that I am so familiar with
baseball that I am actually wedded to it.
Rut cricket—ah, there’s the terrible game. There are eight million
and thirty seven runs to every game, ami if a man can’t register a thou
sand runs every time he comes to the bat
they eall him a bally rotter. That’s what
they call the fellow who strikes out in base
ball, 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 tn their heads. It’s the laziest game
manufactured. Each player bats 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 Dan Daly used to say, it’s the
game where you hit the ball and then go and
hunt for it. If you find it before sunset you
win the game.
1 once played in a jolly little foursome with two ladies and another
person. Well. I—1 missed the bail 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. But when I saw them faint I resolved
then and there that all my future golfing excursions would he decidedly
< mesomes.
Whenever I get the golf fever now I just detach my cuffs and ran
around the links. ______ . _