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2 BEHIND THE FOOTLIGHTS. Recollections of a Veteran Stage Manager. WORLD’S FAMOUS PANTOMIMISTS. Sketch of the Ravels—Other Famous Fnn makers—A Fopular Child Acrobat—The Placide Brothers Genius In a Row Over a Few Oucumbers. [Special Correspondence.] New York, March 16. If panto mime is the highest form of dramatio expression, as so many persons declare, tho Ravels are entitled to high rank in the theatrical world. Not only have their equals nev’er been seen, but their ability has never even been approxi mated, or, I might say, suggested. They wero marvels, every one of them, and I speak advisedly, as I was with them in many of their most important produc tions in this country. Of courso, when I speak of the Ravels, I refer to the four brothers—Jerome, Antoine, Gabriel and Francois. They were not really the orig inal Ravels, but they were the only ones that this country ever know. Tho man who made the family name famous in a most unique field was Jean Ravel, the father of the men with whom we are TOM PLACIDE. familiar. The mother was also a famous pantomimist, and tho success of the off spring of this couple in their chosen profession would, it seems to me, fur nish a most potent argument in favor of the theory of heredity, which has lat terly fallen into disrepute, but which my extended experience on the stage has caused me to think is of much moro consequence than many persons are will ing to admit. Tho Versatile Ravels. I know that tho average individual is inclined to look down upon the panto mimist as a very low sort of fellow, a man who is devoid of everything save agility and strength. This prejudice may be to a certain extent justifiable when tho opinion has been premised on tho observation of some of the latter day so called pantomimists. With the Ravels, however, tho reverse was the case. They were all gentlemen of refine ment, education and culture, who sim ply saw fit to take advantage of the mar velous gifts with which nature had en dowed them for the purpose of acquiring in tho most rapid manner possible a competency which would enable them to retire and live in a manner befitting their tastes. And this they did. The quartet after accumulating great wealth went to Toulouse, France, whore they were born, and, buying four elegant homes next to each other, settled down to a life of luxury and ease and charity. Jerome died at 80, Antoine at 81, Ga briel at 79 and Francois at 63. Their father had lived nearly fourscore years. This certainly speaks volumes for the correctness of their lives. What versatile fellows those Ravels were too! Every ouo of them was a painter, inventor, pantomimist, musician and machinist. In their entertainments, which were arranged by them conjoint ly, they were cast at different times for clowns, white knights, harlequins, gnomes, village swains, old and young lovers, etc. And, strange as it may ap pear nowadays, they never had a dis agreement as to whose part was the best, each usually insisting that the role of each of the others required building up and that his own as it stood necessitated too much work. Think of this, ye ac tors of today, who are willing to com plain a whole week if a “yes” or a “perhaps” bo taken from you at re hearsal I • This strong affection, which was the predominant characteristic of the Ra vels, was, in my opinion, the great se cret of their wonderful success, always, of course, admitting their transcendent ability. And it may not bo amiss to state that they never had a single fail ure in their entire career. No one of their many productions was a compara tive success. All of them wero “un qualified winners,” as the actors along the Rialto would express it. My experi ence with the Ravels was naturally dur ing the latter half of their career. But their books amply bear out tho state ment which I have just made. Th<" Marzettis and tlie Martinettis. Perhaps the nearest approach to the excellence of the Ravels was attained by the Marzettis and Martinettis, all of whom were members of their company. There are descendants of these two fam ilies now scattered about in this and other countries, and nearly all of them are following some branch of the profes sion in which their ancestors were fa mous, but none has done anything to raise him above the common herd, so far as I have been able to learn. The Martinettis were most of them of an acrobatic turn and would have been considered wonderful if the Ravels had not been living. The Marzettis were ex traordinarily good pantomimists and were also very agile. “Marzettis’ Mon . jiuy. calk*- ‘•Mr-cntratiillUhefif, and it was a most amusing one. Their antics were a source of delight to thou sands of children, and they were natural to an almost incredible extent. All of the Marzettis and Martinettis are dead. Great os were the Ravels and great as was the furore which their coming never failed to excite, their star sensa tion was made by one of their pupils, who was only 6 years old. In the paint room at Niblo’s at the time of which I write there was employed a man named Hazlam. He managed to eke out a liv ing, but nothing more. One day, while Gabriel Ravel was watching the artists at work, a little boy of about 6 entered, and goiug up to Hazlam engaged him familiarly in conversation. Gabriel was struck by the phenomenal beauty of the child’s face no less than by the sym metry ana sturdiness of his frame and the air of confidence which seemed to be natural to him. He learned that the boy was Hazlam’s son, and it was not long before the arrangements had been made whereby he was to become an apprentice to Gabriel. The little fellow was treated with the greatest kindness and consid eration, but his athletic training went Steadily forward. Gradually the beauti ful little body began to develop, and tho pupil was so apt and daring and withal so oareful that Gabriel freely predicted that his debut would create a veritable sensation. And it did. A Celebrated Prodigy. This child had been called “Young America,” and there are many persons living who will remember what a pub lic idol he became. The feat with which ‘‘Young America” startled New York was oalled the‘‘triple flying trapeze.” Three swings were suspended from the ceiling of the immense theater. Oue was over the edge of the family circlo, the next was about in the middle of the house, and the third was well over to ward a line drawn upward from the proscenium arch. The child was taken up into tho gallery, where the first swing was hauled backward its entire length by an attendant. “Young Amer ica” grasped the bar and sailed off into space. At exactly the point where the trapeze would begin its backward trip he let go and flew to the next, describ ing a somersault on the way. The mo mentum set the second swing in motion, and ho reached the third in tho same manner. As this one swung far over the stage he let go, and running down to ward the audience he bowed to the most enthusiastic applause I have ever listen ed to. There were no nets in those days, and a platform was run from the dress circle to the stage. On this were heavy hair mattresses made expressly for this purposo, but they might just as well not have been there, for “Young Amer ica” never had a fall or an accident of any kind. After a time, as he grew larger, he ceased to create the former sensatlou. But the Ravels stuck to their portion of the contract and educated him finely. Had he been at all shrewd, inasmuch as ho had been formally adopted by Gabriel Ravel, ho might have easily es tablished his claim to a portion of his large estate. But he made no effort to do so, I believe. Ho is still alive aud makes a living by working in burlesque and pantomime productions. He has beaten a drum iu front of a country cir cus, this child who was so worshiped in New York at one time that when he went to tho gallery each night an officer hud to bo sent along to protect him from the proffered caresses of the scores of society women who used to go up to Mount Rascal for the sole purpose of stealing a kiss from the little fellow. One woman, who was worth millions, came to me with a serious proposition to pay me SSOO to engineer her adop tion of the youngster. It may seem strange to most persons who never saw ‘‘Young America” that a city should go wild over a child just because he happened to perform a diffi cult and dangerous feat particularly well, and it would be extraordinary if this were his sole recommendation. But it was not. The little chap was a per fect Adonis. Clad in his tight fitting trunks, his silk fleshings and high kid boots, with his merry and fearless eyes and magnificent complexion aud wavy hair showing off tho noble head to the best advantage, he was the handsomest picture my eyes have ever looked upon. And it was his beauty, not his prowess, which made women, especially childless ones, adore him. At the Old Niblo. Although the Ravels, when they were at Niblo’s, gave unremarkable entertain ment, for all of which, by the way, only 60 cents was charged, the public in those days wanted more, and they got it. The performance was preceded nightly by a farce, presented by a com pany which in many respects was the most remarkable ever put together for a similar purpose. Among the best known of the members were the famous Tom Placide, L. R. Shewell, J. G. Burnett, E. Lamb, W. Gomcrsal, the great Na poleon; Mary Wells, Mrs. Gomersal, Emma Taylor, sister of our Mary, aud. mauy others. Speaking of Tom Placide, he was a queer character, but a thoroughly whole souled fellow. While he was at’Nihlo’s he used to keep bachelor’s hull, aud it was his greatest pleasure to have a few kindred spirits at his rooms to help him prepare dinner. Among these favored ones were “Handsome” George Jordan, John E. Owens, the elder Mark Smith, Fitz James O’Brien, Artcmus Ward, Doesticks aud myself. The den, as Pla cide always called it, was elegantly fur uished, but be insisted on having a board extending from ouo upturned barrel to another for a table, upon which to prepare the food. And Placide aud his friends knew how to prepare it, you may be sure. Bateman, the father of the famous actress, Kate, once told the proprietor of the aristocratic Langham hotel in Loudon that he ought to visit Tom Placido’s den for tho purpose of learning how to serve a good dinner, including gumbo- soup, for which Tom was celebrated. Everybody who takes the slightest in -fcrcstMiv mafrtcxy xTmntvtid ~with "Tire' THE J\\ _ BRUNSWICK, GA„ MARCH *tV <QOO stage knows of the estrangements which occurred between Tom Fiucide aud his equally talented brother Harry from time to time. Some' inns t hey did not speak for years. One of these differ ences, which had lusted longer than usual, had been adjusted, and Harry in vited Tom to visit him at his country place at Babylon, N. Y. The invitation was accepted.. Tom was an early riser, and, going into the garden, he saw some extraordinarily large cucumbers. Harry had but a few of these, aud they were intended for show oyiy. Tom, knowing nothing of this, drew out his knife and cut oue of the largest of the dew covered prickly beauties. At that momeut Har ry’s head appeured at the window, and its owner shouted angrily: “How dare you cut those cucumbers! Don’t you do it again!” Back popped the head into the room. Tom took his carpetbag and left before his brother got down to breakfast. Go ing to Fulton market,-in this city, he sought a dealer iu fancy vegetables. There he found some cucumbers—a barrel of them—every one of which was much larger than the one he had cut at Harry’s place. Taking one of the deal er’s cards, he wrote on the back: “To Harry Placide, Esq., Babylon, L. I.: And be to you.” The dash looks better in print than the word he really wrote. Paying the merchant for the barrel of cucumbers, he ordered them sent at once by express, charges prepaid. This was done, and that one cucumber in Harry’s amateur garden caused an other long estrangement between two really brilliant brothers. Either would have ridiculed in others the childish conduct of which this shows them both to have been guilty. But genius is said always to have its acconipauyiug weak ness, and this was theirs, I suppose. LONDON MUSIC HALLS. Where Peers and Vassals Are on a Com mon Footing. [Special Correspondence. ] Lo'tDOS, iMarch B.—ln Louden every one jioes to the music hall—old and young, wealthy and poor. You may take your family, you may take your best girl, you may go with your men friends You may go into thestulls, you may go into the gallery, you may go anywhere. It is as if you were in the wide, open street. It matters not if you are not eu regie as to dress. You are here to eujoy yourself. Others are here to enjoy themselves. In it all there is a sense of fine, wide fellowship. True, vice is here, but vice may hide itself in a church. Here is the flaneur, the young man about town. He is here to enjoy him self. The music hall is his stamping ground, his hunting ground. He wears very good clothes, indeed, does this English swell. His forehead is low, his jaws are full, his eyes aro prominent and vacuous. And here is the traveled man, with the hard, keen eyes and strong face, and here is the clever man, and here the foolish man, and here the sharking busi ness man, whoso method of getting money is far more dishonest than the method of a low, common thief, and— But why particularize? Here are the men aud women of the world—of the vvide, strange world. Poverty, wealth, power and revolt are gathered here. They are drinking of the magic wine of forgetfulness, that grand, strange wine. Yet in the whole scene there is a sad ness, a longing, a sense of fretfulness— a something that eludes, a something that may not be defined. And still it is a scene of fine, strange beauty—a scene that appeals to all the senses. You are thrilled. You are in touch with the world as it really is. Aye, the world has taken off its mask for you. You see its splendor even as you see the splendor of the sun in mid day. You see its softuess and its calm, tender beauty. You see its misery, its cruelty, its horror. You see what is called its best aud worst. Aye, the mu sic hall is the world in epitome! Give me the music hall of London. I care but little for the grand concerts and the grand plays in the grand thea ters. Their people are pose. They are not themselves. They have come to be edified, to be moved to higher things. But people come to the music hall to give expression to themselves. Sometimes I hear people say that the music hall ministers to a depraved taste. I don’t see it. And, after all, what is a depraved taste? Can the good people who know so much about nothing tell me? According to them, nearly every thing that is frankly enjoyable is neces sarily depraved. I’m afraid these good people know less about more things.than any other sort of people. No; the music hall is, above every thing, human. It has what aro called the virtues and the vices of humanity. It is good, it is bad, and I’d like to ask the know all people to please remember that good and bad are but words which signify shifting, imaginary lines. The music hall appeals to the senses. It frankly says in effect that it knows nothing of tlieosophie or psychic or any other shadowy and debatable thing. It has absolutely nothing to do with mor als, whether good, bad or indifferent. Its creed is that it is better to be inter esting than to be good. It may be that this creed is what is called cynical. It may be that the mu sic hall itself is what is called cynical. Be that as it may, however, the music hall is not hypocritical. There is no living oue thing and preaching another. The philosophy of the music hall may be put thus: Live today, for tomorrow you die. It is the philosophy of the pres ent moment, and who shall say that it is not a wise philosophy? Who knows anything of tomorrow. And, as for yes terday—well, yesterday is gone, is but as the memory of a dream. -—> — IC r. .rni'T” A GOOD PROFESSION. GOVERNMENT RECORDS SHOW A CALL FOR FIRST CLASS STENOGRAPHERS. They Can Get Work In tlo Departments if They PosnesH the Requirements of Speed and Accuracy—Reporters of Con gress Who Arc Well Paid. [Special Correspondence.] Washington, March 10. —The list of shorthand reporter congressmen has been increased by one, in the person of Samuel J. Barrows of Massachusetts. There are all sorts and conditions of men in congress. And among them are several shorthand reporters. Mr. Chan dler of New Hampshire is oue, and he has found his knowledge of stenography of great value in following debates and committee hearings. Mr. Barrows is an editor and publish er, but of a religions journal, not a newspaper. He has been for 16 years the editor of The Christian Register, published at Boston. Before he became an editor he had a curious and varied career. He is a native of New York city. When he was 9 years old, he worked for the big Hoe ..printing press firm iu New York. That is where he got the odor of printer’s ink in his nos trils. He was an errand boy there and telegraph operator, and almost all his education was obtained at night school while he was doing this work. Among other things he learned shorthand, and having done some work as a stenogra pher he went to work for the New York Sun as a reporter. Later he was stenog rapher to Secretary Seward here iu Washington and served as a clerk in one of the bureaus of the state depart ment. Then he entered the Harvard divinity school, acting as Boston correspondent of the New York Tribune until he took the degree of B. D. He went for The Tribune on the Yellowstone expedition under General Stanley in 1873 and the Black Hills expedition of General Cus ter in 1874, taking part in the battles of Tongue River and the Big Horn. He followed this experience with a year at Leipsic university, studied political economy under Roscber, became pastor of the first parish, Dorchester, Mass., and finally was made editor of The Christian Register. During his editorial term he has spent one year studying archteology in Greece and visiting Eu ropean prisons. In 1895 he attended the HON. SAMUEL J. BARROWS. international prison congress at Paris as secretary of the United States dele gation, and President Cleveland last year appointed him a representative of the United States on the international prison commission. As if that was not variety enough fcfrwmy man’s career, Mr. Barrows has now come to congress, and there is no telling where he will go next, for a man of his versatility is just as likely to land in the White House as anywhere else. A Valuable Acquisition. All his varied experiences have been of value to him, but Mr. Barrows thinks one of the most valuable of them was his study of shorthand. I would advise any young man who is looking for a ca reer to study shorthand and typewrit ing. Personally I had a strong prejudice against it when I entered on newspaper work. I had the feeling that a stenogra pher was little better than a machine; that his intelligence was subordinated to the mechanical work of making notes. That is undoubtedly true in some de gree of a reporter getting an interview. The fewer notes he takes the bettor. He seldom wants the exact language of the man he is interviewing. In fact, the late J. B. McCullagh, who is credited with being the inventor of the inter view, told me that no attempt should be made to quote a man interviewed; that all interviews should be written in the third person. But for other pur poses stenography is often a valuable aid, and as a last resource, when a man wants to find work, I know nothing so sure of commanding employment as a knowledge of shorthand. If you look in the New York newspa pers, you will see few advertisements of stenographers in want of occupation. The condition which exists there can be found all over the country, the civil service commissioners tell mo. While the roll of applicants for government places is filled to overflowing, there is not a competent stenographer to be found on the list today. On the other hand, the market is crowded with in competent ones. Maryland and Virginia have exceeded far their quota of offices, tod no one from either of those states could get an ordinary clerkship. But a stenographer from Maryland or Virginia would be snapped up by one of the de partments iu a minute. In these days, when labor saving ma chinery is driving so many men out of employment and cheapening labor through undue competition, it is refresh ing to find one branch of work iu which the demand is greater than the supply. The reason the stenographer bis' own against the talking machine so well is that the stenographer is intelli gent, and reporting, even letter writ ing, cannot be doue in a mechanical way. When the reporter of the senate looks over his notes, he can dictate them to a machine with the assurance that they will come out in acceptable form. But what do you think would be the result of transcribing and putting iu The Congressional Record exactly what is said by each member of the house and senate in public debate? It would make The Record the most amusing publication iu existence. One of the official reporters read to me from his notes tho other day the language of a distinguished senator ut tered in debate. You would have thought it came from a man with very little ed ucation. It was full of grammatical er rors; double negatives abounded, and though you could not have mistaken tho man’s meaning if you had heard him speak you would uot have been at all suro of it if you had seen his language aud not heard it. The official reporter always edits his notes as ho dictates them to the grapho phone. He keeps the notes for reference in case a question of his accuracy is raised. The fact that his report is uot verbatim is recognized when a member of the house or senate demands that the language of another member be “taken down. ” This means that he proposes to hold the speaker accountable for tho ex act language he used aud uot for the tempered report of it, which may get into The Record the next day. The official reporters of congress, judged by a money standard, are as im portant as the senators or representa tives. The reporters of the house receive $5,000 a year each, and they work only when congress is in session. In tho sen ate the work of reporting debates is taken under contract. Dennis Murphy had tho contract for many years. When he died, a couple of years ago, it was transferred to his chief assistants, Ed ward V. Murphy and Theodore F. Shuey. Mr. Shuey has been one of the senate reporters since 1869. Edward Murphy’s service antedates that time, and Dennis Murphy first entered the senate’s employ in 1848. Hard Work, but Short Hours. Out of the $25,000 a year which the senate pays them, Shuey and Murphy pay four assistants. These assistants do other work as well. Oue of them, Harry Gensler, was clerk to Senator Cameron for many years at $6 a day, and he is one of the brightest, quickest stenogra phers in Washington. Murphy and Shuey rank high as reporters of debates, and they undoubtedly make as much as the house reporters—ss,ooo each—out of their contract with the senate. Their pay, you must remember, is for work which usually averages 12 months iu 24, the short session of congress being three months long and the long session seldom more than nine mouths. Two years ago, when the senate met in spe cial session, an extra sum was appropri ated to pay for the extra work of the stenographers, though under their con tract with the senate Murphy and Shuey •could have been compelled to report the extra session wii bout extra pay. The $5,000 which the congressional reporters receive is not the limit of their earnings. That sum pays for their work in reporting dobates. When they are asked to report committee hearings, they are paid according to the amount of testimony taken. Not all this com mittee work goes to the official stenog raphers, but they have enough of it to fill in much of their time, aud it is not an uncommon thing for one of the re porters to make SI,OOO during the ses sion at this extra work. These men are not overpaid. Remem ber that the house reporters must bo not only the finest stenographers in the country, but intelligent, well read men; that they must have sufficient knowl edge of every question before congress— from science to agriculture, from In dians to tariff rates —to be able to fol low all the intricacies of a high pressure debate, and then take into account the fact that the strain on their nerves is so great that they are likely to break down before they are past middle age. The price is not too high. Some of the official reporters have be come rich, partly through their savings as stenographers aud partly through the favorable investment of those earnings. Mr. White has been in a number of profitable enterprises, and he could re tire from work if he chose. Andrew De vine, another of the house reporters, has made a good deal of money in the devel opment of the graphophone and in other investments and speculations. Dennis Murphy left a nice little fortune. On the other hand, Mr. McElhone, though he received $6,000 a year for many years before his death, left no property to his family. Mr. McElhone had eight or nine children, however, and in Wash ington a large family is a luxury. Pay For First Class Work. I know one stenographer at the capi tal who makes nearly SIO,OOO a year at official work. But he is an expert in certain lines, and stenography is the least of his accomplishments. Many committee clerks whose chief work is stenographic receive $2,500 a year. A knowledge of stenography is required ol every first class committee clerk unless the committee is so important that pri vate secretaries of senators receive $6 a day, some of them annually and some only* when congress is in session. But not all of these are stenographers. In the White House the stenographer of the president draws SI,BOO a year, and he has confidential duties of a very impor tant character, for he sees all the presi dent’s state papers and knows the ad ministration’s policy long before any member of the cabinet. In the depart ments stenographers receive as high as SI,BOO a year. George Grantham Bain. Had Keen Attended To. She—Of course, you all talked about me as soon as I left. Her—No, dear; we thought you had attended to that sufficiently.—lndian apolis Journal. GAUZY DRESS GOODS. Novelties Iu Materials For Hpriug and Summer Wear. [Special Correspondence. ] New York, March 16. —From present indications oue may be justified in say ing that the coming summer will boa gauzy one as far as dress materials aro concerned. I never saw so many and suoh different kinds of thin goods for dresses. Silks are woven into grenadines of every conceivable kind, wool and cot ton are made into open meshed canvases, and linen is employed to an extent never before accorded iu dress goods. On tho list of oponworked flax dress stuffs wo find linen barege, exquisitely embroid ' H I# SPRING COSTUMES. ered and costing from $5 to $7 a yard. Of courso it is very wide. Then there is linen canvas, or etamine, with tinsel all through the threads. This costs $2 a yard and is uot as tasteful as some of the plainer surfaces. There is also a tin seled liuen batiste. Linen etamine, em broidered and with lace stripes and in sertions, is among the prettiest of these goods. The style resembles that of last summer, only that the mesh of the linen is coarse and sievelike, as its name indicates. There are some novelties in silks. There is a fancy taffeta, with satin blocks over it, with several colors, like blue, green and heliotrope, each having a design of rosebuds on it in natural colors. It has a wonderfully old fash ioned look to me, though I cannot recall where I ever saw any like it before. There is a canvas taffeta, with gold and white ground, over which aro scattered black cornflowers. Blue and tan chame leon shades have blue cornflowers. Corn flowers and cornflower blue will havo another lease of life, and I am glad. They are too pretty to give up. This silk is very expensive—up to $3.50 and $4 per yard. The French poplins aro offered in hairline stripes of black and bright col ors. The general effect is pleasing. There are glace taffetas, with tiny bas kets of flowers embroidered upon them. Velours moire glace is offered iu garnet shot with black, blue with olive, and so on, all the suitable colors being util ized as foils to each other. There is a new idea in hatian taffeta. The body of the silk is in a rather light solid color, with irregular dots and dashes of satin, generally black or very dark brown, all over it, making it look like a repetition of the Morse alphabet. There are num bers of designs in silk lace grenadine, where all imaginable colors are shot with black, with white dots over it all. In spite of all the riotous colors shown in the stores, there are really few gowns seen of them, though that may befall us later. The really tasteful woman chooses a plainer, quieter tint. I saw one very pretty gown today, though it is really but the revival of part of a fashion in vogue ten years ago. This gown was of twilled gray cashmere, and this color, by tho way, is very fash ionable this year. It was cut princess shape and had the front draped across surplice style and fastened at the left hip. The sleeves and V vest front were of the dotted taffeta, described above, in gray, black and green. It was taste ful and neat. Another neat and tasteful gown for outdoor wear mis of hairline poplin, black and blue. Around the skirt were six rows of mandarin blue velvet rib bon. The belt and stock were of blue velvet. Narrower velvet ribbon was sewed on the waist and sleeves. In one place there were two spring costumes just done, both elegant and NEAT SPRING GOWNS. both showing t’ at tho high collar is as popular as ever. One was of pearl gray French broadcloth, the skirt lapped and ‘ stitched. The empire coat was tight in the back aud loose in front. It ivas tailor finished and ornamented With military loops and braid. The other was of cashmere, double, in light snuff brown. The skirt was laid in deep plaits, with dark brown insets of velvet. The basque had a trimming of velvet applique and narrow braid, with a gold braid binding. Accordion plaited caps of the cashmere finished the sleeves. Olive Harper. A Pinch of Salt. A pinch of salt or other seasoning is often a direction of a recipe. In French cookery this is a distinct measure aud means a teaspoonful, and not the bit that may be held -'between tho fingers, as the word is usually interpreted. New York Post.