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BEHINITW
FOOTLIGHTS.
Most Remarkable Theatrical
Figure of the Century.
EEOOLLEOTIOKS OP BOUCIOAULT.
The Voung Dramatist—Long Career as
Playwright and Player—His School For
Acting—lncidents In His Wonderful Ca
reer.
[Special Correspondence.]
New Yoke, April 20.—1f I wore ask
ed to name the man who, in my opin
ion, was the most remarkable theatrical
figure of the nineteenth century, I
should unhesitatingly select Dion Bou
cicault, not because he was the greatest
actor or tlio greatest playwright or the
greatest stage manager, because he prob
ably bad his superior in each of these
branches erf the dramatic art, but be
cause he possessed a combination of all
in a greater degree than any man with
whom I have ever been brought into
contact or of whom wo have any record
during recent years.
llouclcault’H Private Life.
I was associated for a considerable
time and at different periods with DibiT
Boucicault as stage manager. I was
with Laura Keene when he was a mem
ber of the company and was afterward
with him at Niblo’s when he was in
the heyday of his glory and was making
his own productions. Ho was ono of the
most peculiar men the stage has ever
known. In private life he was as gener-
DION BOLTCICAULT.
our as the sun, and he was a magnifi
cent host. For a long time he main
tained establishments at Now York,
London, Brighton aud Brussels, and at
whichever of these places he happened
to be there was certain to be a house
full of guests. It may not be generally
known, but it is nevertheless a fact that
Boucicault enjoyed the warm friendship
of men prominent in almost every
walk of life, both in this country and
England.
It is strange that so little is known of
Dion’s early life. If he had been an ig
norant fellow with a special aptitude
for tho stage, this would not have been
surprising anymore than it would have
been had he suddenly sprung into fame.
But, as a matter of fact, he was a finely
educated aud well read man, and ho
rose to reputation and wealth in the
most systematic, and I might almost say
commonplace, manner. Ho was only 19
years of age when he wrote “London
Assurance,” the work on which is said
to have occupied but two weeks of his
time. This piece was produced at tho
Covent Garden theater in 1841, and
Boucicault was snecringly bailed as the
founder of the “upholstery school of
comedy.” Notwithstanding this, the
play was a very great success, and from
that time the young dramatist’s rise to
fame and fortune was easy and rapid.
At this time Boucicault was known as
Lee Morton, and he always refused to
tell whether that name or the one by
which he is best known was the right
oue. Ho was educated at Trinity col
lege, Dublin, and that city is said to
have been his birthplace.
It used to be said generally that John
Brougham wrote the part of Dazzle iu
“ London Assurance. ” But Boucicault
always denied the allegation, and his
subsequent career amply demonstrated
that, whether or not he had permitted
the actor to interject a role into his first
piece, he, Boucicault, was well able to
have written a much better one.
Some of the more notable of Dion’s
plays which followed “London Assur
ance” were “Old Heads and Young
Hearts,” “The Willow Copse,” “The
Young Actress, ” “The Corsican Broth
ers,” “Bob Nettles,” “Andy Blake,”
“Tlie Shaugliraun,” “Asmodeus,”
“Pauvrette,” “Used Up,” “The Irish
Heiress,” “The Phantom,” “Love In a
Maze,” “The Colleen Bawn,” “The
Long Strike,” “Jessie Browne,” “Ar
rah-na-Pogue,” '‘Jeannie Deans,” a
version of * ‘Rip Van Winkle” for Joseph
Jefferson, “The Long Strike,’’and prob
ably nearly 100 other plays of minor
importance.
Kvortmius Royalties.
During Boueicault’s long career as a
playwright lie was frequently charged
witli plagiarism, and there is consider
able ground for the belief that the alle
gations were not always without foun
dation. He somehow lacked originality,
aud many of his most successful works
were dramatizations of popular books
which he managed to disguise so effect
ually that they were not usually recog
nized except by those who had an inti
mate acquaintance with the stage. His
royalties were enormous, and it was
well that they were so, for he spent
money like water, and if his income
had been only moderately large he
would have been constantly in pecunia- 1
ry hot water. At one time iu his career !
it is said that his total revenue from
royalties, share of receipts, acting, etc.,
did not full far short of $250,000 a year.
And yet when he died he left practical
ly nothing.
One of the most marked of the many
peculiarities of Boucicault was his fa
mous “black book,” which was a terror
to every one who either had had or
hoped to have business relations with
him. In this volume, whicli was of
black morocco, with golden clasps and
two small keys of the same precious
metal, he was in the habit of jotting
down everything that he happened to
have against a manager, an actor, a
costumer or even a theater. And if a
name once was written in that dreaded
tome that was an end to the hopes of
the owner of ever doing business with
the eccentric Dion, even after the lapse
of many years. This plan might have
had its commendable features if it had
I not been for the fact that the play-
I wright was largely a creature of preju
• dice, and therefore often blacklisted a
| person without the investigation which
the importance of the matter dernand
■ ed. And it was a serious matter, for in
those days Dion was a power in the
theatrical world, and the player who
was debarred from his employ frequent
ly had a hard scuffle to get along, ow
ing to the presumption of fault which
i this proscription carried with it.
j Advent of Misfortune.
I It is one of the most pathetic things
to see a man who has had his own little
world practically at his feet sink until
oven -the mediocre figures of the same
circle rise above him, and yet this was
my experience with Dion Boucicault.
Hard times had come upon him when
he was at Booth’s theater, and he was
unable to meet his obligations—this man
who but a few years before had been
throwing money away like an eastern
potentate. I shall never forget the din
ner which he gave at about this time to
the members of his company at the then
famous Pinard’s. It was a grand affair,
in thorough keeping with the reputation
of the host as a lavish entertainer. Aft
er the departure of his guests Dion, who
had been the life of the feast, remarked
that as he was obliged to compromise
with his people he had thought that
good digestion should wait on appetite
and thus pave a way to making the best
of the very bad pecuniary situation
which confronted him. The company
accepted the settlement offered, and to
Boucicault’s credit be it said that prac
tically every dollar he possessed went to
his actors, and he didn’t go about town
telling about it either, as though he
thought that he had done a wonderfully
creditable thing.
Later on this genius lent his ability
to the building up of a school of acting,
and this aroused a storm of resentment
from his former friends, who, whether
justly or otherwise, regard these insti
tutions as their greatest enemies.
It is likely, too, that Boucicault had
nbout as many enemies as any man who
ever became prominent and was also
successful on the stage of this country,
where personal popularity counts for so
much in the career of a public enter
tainer.
The “Black Book.”
One of the actors whom Dion did not
like was my brother Felix, whose abil
ity, however, in character work he re
spected highly. But somehow or other
the two men never seemed to be able to
“cotton. ” In one particular play there
was a horsewhipping scene in which the
character portrayed by Felix was the
victim. Laura Keene, as the heroine,
was the instrument of punishment.
Dion confided to her his plan, which
was nothing less than to lay it on good
and hard and to make Felix howl, if
possible. To better carry this plan out
Boucicault had provided a robust whip
instead of the very puny one ordinarily
used on these occasions. Felix had got
wind of the plot, and on the eventful
evening he was attired in three suits of
clothes, the bottom one being of heavy
corduroy. Miss Keene played her part
admirably. She laid the lash on with
vim, but Felix did not appear to notice
it. After the performance Dion asked
me what kind of man my brother was
to be able to take that whipping with
out wincing. I repeated this to Felix,
and he replied, “(live my compliments
to ‘old baldlieud,’ and tell him that my
hide had been especially tanned in ad
vance for the occasion.” I delivered
that message and down went Felix’s
name on the “black book.”
Speaking of this “black book,” I be
lieve that if it could he found it would
make about as interesting stage reading
as could well be imagined, for in it
Boucicault also used to record his im
pressions of everybody and everything
which came under his notice. As he
was unusually frauk in everyday life,
it is but fair to assume that in this book
there was no mental reservation what
ever. Lionel Brough, the elder, was
once told by Beale, the great music pub
lisher of London, that he would gladly
give $5,000 for it at any time, and he
would probably make a great deal of
money on it even at that figure. But
the book has mysteriously disappeared,
probably much to the relief of many
persons who still “lag superfluous.”
Boucicault said to me one day at the
Laugham hotel, London, after having
given me a glimpse of the somber vol
ume, “Do you know, Vincent, what I
consider ono of the most interesting
things in here?” I made an expectant
gesture, and he replied, much to my
disappointment, I must confess, “It is a
remark once made by Sydney Smith to
the effect that the ‘tragedy queen,’Mrs.
Siddons, was so imbued with tragedy
that she could not refrain from stabbing
potatoes with a fork at the dinner ta
ble.” '
Dion Boucicault had his faults, thou
sands of them perhaps, us, indeed, who
has not? But if the supreme test of a
well spent life be that the world is bet
ter for that existence, this famous play
wright, manager and actor is certainly
entitled to the gratitude of the passing
generation, aud to some extent also of
the one which is now at tlie helm of
affairs, for, despite his lack of ability
to create, Dion’s plays will be in vogue
for many years after those of his viru
lent anti feeble critics shall have been
forgo't n. L. John Vincent.
THE TIMES: BRUNSWICK, GA, SUNDAY MORNING, APRIL 25, 1897.
DRESSY PUBLIC MEN.
BAILEY OF TEXAS HAS MADE THEM
A MARK FOR COMMENT.
Eccentricity In Dress at Washington Not
So Great a It Once Was —Few “Dudes”
Among the Lawmakers —The Most Strik
ing Dressers Are From the West.
[Special Correspondence.]
Washington, April 20.—The Quixot
ic attack made by young Bailey of Tex
as on one of the institutions of civilized
society has made, much amusement for
the people of Washington. It does not
make a bit of difference to them whether
the Texas congressman wears a dress
suit or not. Even if there were danger
that his example would prove conta
gious, no one would care a rap. The
dress coat does not make society. Socie
ty made the dress coat, and would
quickly discard it for good and sufficient
reason.
Jeffersonian Simplicity.
These things change from time to
time. The silk hat, which Mr. Bailey
derides, is only a century old, and in
that century it has taken a hundred
shapes. A century ago Jefferson, the fa
ther of Democracy, wore silk stockings,
knee breeches and silver buckled shoes
to clothe his nether limbs. Jefferson
was a stickler for simplicity. In these
-days I am aiiaiu rio would be calhVTby
that word of recent origin—a “crank”
on the subject. Ho cared so little for
formality that he abolished the levees
which Washington had established,
much to the discomfiture of those who
made up the “society” of the newly
founded, straggling capital. One after
noon they determined to protest against
deprivation of the courtly official recep
tion, and a party of gay young lads and
gayer lasses called at the president’s
house aud waited for Jefferson’s return.
He came from Ins daily horseback exer
cise and strode into the room in dusty
coat and riding boots. So scant was his
courtesy that his visitors made a quick
departure. And they did not return.
Jefferson’s impressive plainness was
partly assumed and for a purpose. He
came into office confronting a condition
of national discontent—a feeling which
had spread all over the country that the
republic was drifting toward royalism.
The court etiquette of Washington’s
two administrations, retained by Ad
ams, had impressed the people with the
idea that the government was approach
ing monarchy, that perhaps the blood of
the Revolution had been paid merely
for an exchange of kings—the one across
HON J. W. BAILEY.
the water for ono at home. Jefferson
saw this condition and met it in so em
phatic a manner that since his time
there has been no question of divinity
hedging the president of the United
States.
Many men fall into ridicule because
they don’t know when a dress coat
should be worn. Some years ago a con
gressman known as “a statesman among
ball players and a ball player among
statesmen” wore a dress coat to the
White House in the morning and made
himself the butt of Washington. When
the Ancient and Honorable Artillery of
Boston was in London last year, many
of the members wore dress suits to a
garden party.
Dress of Western Members.
Most of the southern members con
form to the rules of society when they
go out to formal entertainments here.
The western members are the least par
ticular of all the public men in Wash
ington. Yet, strange to say, the west
furnishes the most strikingly dressed
members of both house and senate.
Mr. Wolcott of Colorado is the sen
ator who attracts attention by his style
of dress. His clothing is finely made
aud he seems to have an inexhaustible
supply of it. No one knows where his
list of garments ends, for no man who
did not have a good memory aud fix his
mind ou the subject would know that
Mr. Wolcott ever wore a coat twice. He
has a valet to look after his clothing
and his 60 pairs of shoes. No other
member of congress has dazzled Wash
ington with a valet except Harry Miner,
late a member from New York. Miner
paralyzed his friends by registering in
Syracuse at the time of a convention,
“H. Clay Miner and valet,” and the
next guest, iu a spirit of fun, registered
“James Jones and valise.” This bit of
pleasantry was taken up by an English
writer iu all seriousness and made the
text for a dissertation on the ignorance
of Americans.
The member of the house who is at
tracting attention by his style of dress
is James H. Lewis of Washington, who
received some votes for vice president
in the last national Democratic conven
tion. I saw Mr. Lewis in the lobby of
the Arlington hotel a few nights ago in
silk hat and dress suit, with shiuing
patent leathers on his feet. He was not
arrayed for social conquest, but was
strolling around, killing time. The fol
lowing day Mr. Lewis appeared in the
house with shapely trousers well creased
and hands daintily gloved. His coat
was of fashionable cut- Since that day
Mr. Lewis has entertained tlie house
with a succession of well made suits of
clothing, each appropriate to the hour
and occasion on which it was worn. A
few years ago Mr. Lewis was hustling
freight at the docks iu Tacoma—work
ing as a stevedore. He was a lawyer,
but he bad no practice. He was without
friends, and he had to earn a living in
some maimer. Now Mr. Lewis haH
friends and a large legal practice.
Of course Mr. Lewis is the subject
of some pleasant banter from his col
leagues because of his dress. But lam
quite sure none of them thinks any the
less of him because he is fashionably
attired.
Since his return, after two years of
retirement from public life, Jerry Simp
son has been seen wearing knee breech
es and golf stockings, for he enjoys cy
cling.
Daniel Webster used to wear a shad
belly coat with brass buttons. In recent
years Senator Conger of Michigan wore
a coat like this, and Senator Chace of
Rhode Island, who was a Quaker, wore
a shad belly coat with sober buttons of
black. There is no eccentric dress to be
seen in the senate today. Some senators
wear frock coats; some wear cutaway
coats, aud some dress in the sack coat
which is supposed to be sacred to busi
ness use. Few of them cultivate vari
ety. They wear coats of the same style
all through the winter aud spring, ex
changing them for silk or alpaca coats
in the summer. No senator is seon with
out his coat even on the hottest summer
day. The proprieties of the senate ehain
ber will not permit any such laxity.
The clerks are held to the samo rigid
rule, and some years ago when one of
the clerks appeared at his desk in a lin
en duster he was notified that his serv
ices would not be needed any longer.
Dress In the Senate.
The frock coat is the most common
style of dress in the senate. Almost all
the older members wear it. Some of
them have pudgy figures which would
be lost in the long tailed garment. Vest
is one of these. He wears a very much
wrinkled cutaway coat. Gorman wears
a cutaway, fitting his figure trimly.
For au unostentatious man Gorman is
remarkably well dressed. His dress is as
clean cut and characteristic as his pro
file, and he almost always wears a well
brushed silk hat.
The last time I saw John Sherman at
the capitol was on inauguration day,
and he had around his ncek a coach
man’s collar of fur which stood out like
a ruff from his thin figure. Mr. Sher
man is one of the frock coated states
men whose clothing is always wrinkled
and loose fitting. Senator Allison, on
the other hand, is always attired in a
black broadcloth coat which looks as
though it had just come from the bauds
of his tailor. I suspect Mr. Allison of
having a valet concealed about his bach
elor home on Vermont avenue. Mr. Al
drich is in marked contrast with Mr. Al
lison. He wears a close fitting cutaway
suit and looks like what he is—a busi
ness man. Mr. Morrill of Vermont wears
the “customary suit of solemn black.”
His clothing is always well fitting and
neatly kept. He wears his long frock
coat hanging open. That is a point of
difference between the senators aud the
justices of the supreme court. The sen
ators wear their frock coats unbuttoned;
the justices, when they are not in their
robes, wear their frock coats tightly
buttoned about them. The frock coat is
almost as much a uniform ns the black
silk robe with the supreme court jus
tice.
Most of the presidents, since long
trousers came into vogue, have worn
long frock coats buttoned closely about
them. Mr. Cleveland always did, aud
his portly figure swelled his coat out of
all graceful proportion. Mr. Harrison
did, and the length of the skirts em
phasized the squatness of his figure.
Arthur was very particular about the
set of his coat. He had his clothing
made by a New York tailor, aud he
tried to live up to his reputation as
“the only gentleman who ever sat in
the White House.”
Garfield and Hayes wore close fitting
frock coats which were always tightly
buttoned. Lincoln, on the contrary,
wore a loose skirted frock coat which
usually hung open. Its looseness dis
guised in some measure the scantiness of
the president’s figure. President Mc-
Kinley wears a tight fitting frock coat.
Mr. Bailey will find a grjat many
men in both branches of congress who
will sympathize with his objections to
the dissipations of society—men who
believe that the duty of a public man is
to his constituents and his country,
not to the women who give afternoon
teas and the men who give poker par
ties. One of these is Senator Frye, who
says he despises “functions,” and is
never so happy as at his summer home
on Squirrel island, where he can wear a
flannel shirt aud “loaf and invite his
soul.” But Mr. Frye has a dress suit
for use when occasion demands it.
But the Wedding: Went On.
My memory goes back again 11 years
to a\V hite House incident. The pres
ident of the United States was to be
married. He had bidden only the mem
bers of his cabinet to the ceremony.
One of them—Mr. Garland—begged the
president to excuse him ou the plea that
he never wore a dress suit—tho plea
that young Bailey made when he called
on President McKinley the other day.
President Cleveland urged Mr. Garland
to reconsider. He wanted particularly
to have all the members of the cabinet
at his \i edding. Mr. Garland was firm.
He said he would not come to the wed
ding iu his frock coat and he would not
wear a dress coat. So the wedding went
on without him.
Not long before Jacob T. Child of
Missouri had been appointed minister
to Siam. I asked liim if he intended to
get a dress suit—the accepted court cos
tume of the American diplomat abroad
Mr. Child said that he did not. He ob
jected to it solely on the score of econ
omy. He did not propose to spend S4O
or SSO on anew suit, and he thought
the king of Siam would not care very
much whether he did or did not. The
king of Siam is coming to America soon
Perhaps we will learn then just what
he did thiuk of Mr. Child and his lack
ef ceremony.
George Grantham Bain.
IN RAINBOW COLORS.
THEY DO NOT SHOCK THE STYLISH
WEARER
Lemon Yellow, Pea Green anil Bright Bed
Are Quite Common- New Dress Goods.
Handsome Poplins and Brocaded Silks.
Thin Goods.
[Special Correspondence.]
New York, April 20.— For a refined
lady a couple of short seasons ago to
have worn such a combination of pri
mary colors as is now in fashion would
have been to proclaim her deficient in
taste or color blind. I have in my
mind’s eye a walking or visiting dress
of lemon yellow armure silk, with a
garniture of red brocade, trimmed with
white lace and black velvet ribbon.
And yet, being familiar now with the
brilliant colorings, this does not shock
me in the least. On the contrary, I find
it handsome. Perhaps this is because of
the artistic disposal of the colors. The
dress itself was of a tight princess form,
cut away at the bust to show a vest of
red and yellow brocade. The pattern
was what is commonly known as ver
micelli, the ground being yellow and
the figure red. All the edges of the ar
mure on the waist and down the skirt
were waved and bordered with narrow
black velvet ribbon and inch wide
white lace. It was lapped across at the
waist and opened below it over a panel
of the red and yellow brocade. This
panel had rows of velvet ribbon heading
lace ruffles. Two rows were put around
the skirt, both down the fronts and
around the bottom. The sleeves were
simply awful and were composed of un
graceful, stiff ruffles, trimmed to match
the rest of the gown. The upper part of
the sleeves under the multiple caps was
of lace laid over the yellow silk and
the lower part was of armure. And to
add to the combination of color, a ruby
taffeta parasol was provided for the
costume and an immense hat of cardinal
straw, rolled upward in front and held
by a great bow of yellowish pompadour
ribbon. In the back there were four
immense black plumes curled around
in most picturesque shape.
Pea green is another favorite spring
color and that is found in all the ma
terials now in the market, from calico
to the richest silk. This is a color so
trying that no woman, blond or bru
nette, dares wear it near her face; so
those who want it are obliged to rele
gate it to skirts alone. It is pretty
enough so, though rather glaring.
Black velvet ribbon is a garniture of
ten seen on it, and sometimes a flat
row of black Spanish or chantilly is
laid along the edge of the skirt or down
the front side seams.
There are just now but few novelties
to note, the most of the apparently new
goods being but different designs of old
ones. The lampas and brocaded silks
vary but little from those of last fall,
unless it is that they are in rather qui
eter coloring. These goods are superb
in quality, and when they are in too
glaring colors the whole appearance is
cheapened. Tho patterns are both large
and small to suit all tastes. In wool
and silk warp the henriettas take the
first place in colors and the matchless
eudora cloth iu black. This is richer
than any silk and costs more, though
its width and wearing qualities make
it more valuable than silk.
There is anew poplin, which is crisp
and yet pliable, and as a foil to so much
color this is shown in a soft and pleas
ing lino of tints in self color. Anew
homespun is shown for tailor gowns,
and this, too, is iu quiet colors aud is
soft to the touch, which homespun nev
er was before. Some of this is twirled
NEW millinery.
and some twisted. This latter is rather
harsh, but makes up well. Corkscrew
suitings are shown for the first time in
colors. Corded cloth is quite new. It is
very wide and has a fine, firm body, and
so far it has been produced only in neu
tral tints and deep prune color. But
doubtless it will soon be seen in other
colors, as it is bound to take public
fancy.
Hats and bonnets grow prettier and
somewhat more modest as the season
waxes. But they are pretty all the same.
Flowers and feathers are quarreling for
the mastery, with feathers somewhat
ahead Olive Harper.
BLACK ART WIZARDS.
Crossing the Balm With S'ilver-!M{^
£ Alway.-t Plentiful.
[Special C. rr. 1 ™
Chicago, April 11) itv.iugo that in
this matter of iuct, jhclmi -ive lime, on
tlio border of the tvmiith contuiy,
such a relic of the superstition lovj .g
past should continue to have so firm a
hold upou mankind. Of course belief in
the power of any favored human being
to foretell wlmt is c lining to puss, us a
general thing, has its devotees among
the ignorant, and yet even women of
superior education and refinement show
a leaning ill this direction. This can he
laid to their youth aud inexperience.
As they grow older common sense out
strips superstition iu the race, and they
look at things from a more practical
standpoint
Taking fortune tellers as a class, they
are a most interesting study. Keen
readers of human nature, they have a
tremendous advantage over their cred
ulous victims, who come into their
presence with the intention of believ
ing. It is easy to judge-what the aver
age life of a young miss has been, to
state that she has met with disappoint
ment, hopes to go on a journey, will
meet ;i dark mail who wants her, but
that he is not her fate; that a light
haired suitor will appeal;, whom she
will marry, etc. v
There can be no question that these
wretched fortune tellers control the des
tinies of many young women, it may he
for good or evil. Having a firm belief
in the prophecy, the girl is apt to yield
her heart when her head might warn
her against such a move. Generally the
sceress adds to the solemnity of her
apartment V means of sepulchral de
vices, maps of hades on the wall, stuff
ed toads, liz rds, and even snakes, a
live owl that blinks at the light, aud in
some eases a human skull with a can
dle burning inside, the eye sockets glar
ing with red isinglass. Such ghastly ac
companiments are apt to send a thrill
of alarm over even the stoutest heart,
I and it is for this very purpose they are
present, since they give the prophetess
an advantage which she is quick to
seize upon.
A few scorn these accessories and rely
upon their reputation. Some handle
cards; others read the lines of the palm.
There can be no doubt about the power
of a palmist to read of a past life, which
leaves traces on the bauds, but the fu
ture is veiled from all mortal eyes by a
wise dispensation of Providence. Some
persons declare prophecies made in their
youth have come true. That may be so
; in just so far as it lay in their power to
carry out the decree by marriage and
such things, but seldom if ever does the
fortune promised at a certain time ma
terialize. That is beyond the power of
the ‘ ‘seventh daughter of a seventh
daughter, born iu the veil,” to produce.
Probably the most famous as well as
the most picturesque figure among these
fortune tellers is the gypsy. Generally
she is old and wrinkled—indeed, the
uglier the better. Her nails are like the
talons of a hawk, and when a plump,
blushing damsel yields a palm to her
inspection she feels that she is in the
presence of an uncanny witch, to whom
satan has given the power of prophecy.
On the whole, it will be found that the
gypsy hits the past much better than
her imitators in city walls, who supple
ment their work with such awe inspir
ing surroundings. None of them will
open her lips until her palm has been
crossed with silver, and it may be noted
with suspicion that the larger the fee
the more favorable the decree of for
tune. Well, as Barnrm declared again
and again, the dear public likes to be
humbugged.
The colored race is peculiarly sus
ceptible toward a belief iu occult power
possessed by the favored few. They
wear all manner of charms, from the
foot of a rabbit killed iu a graveyard at
midnight to the rattles of a snake over
which a solemn incantation has been
uttered. Anything bordering on the su
pernatural will scare the average negro
half to death. This is particularly the
case down south, where the race has
failed to secure the advantages of edu
cation, for it is this accomplishment
that must finally sound the deatbkuell
of superstition. A belief in dreams aud
blind obedience to the teachings of the
mysterious voodoo are distinguishing
characteristics of the race. They are
greatly impressed with ceremony, which
accounts for the eagerness with which
well to do northern colored men unite
with secret orders.
After all, it is amazing to see how
this old spirit of superstition permeates
all ranks. Baseball players, with their
mascots, have become rank believers in
it, and many lay all their success or
poor playing to certain charms which
have turned up favorable or otherwise.
If oue dipped deeply into this subject,
he would be alarmed for the sanity of
the world. There are some men, aud
women, too, who notice this trend of
public weakness and set themselves like
so many rocks iu the stream, hoping to
break its force. These heroic gladiators
in the arena of public instruction form
Thirteen clubs, move aud start upon
journeys on Friday iu order to ridicule
the old sailor’s belief iu bad luck fol
lowing such a beginning of a cruise on
hangman’s day.
Mauy men among us are fatalists, be
lieving that our lives and destinies are
mapped out at the time we are born aud
that we drift along at the mercy of the
current, under the impression that wo
have a will, when iu fact it has all
been cut and dried for us. All follow
ers of Mohammed are of such a class,
ready to give up when misfortune
frowns and with a shrug exclaim:
“Kismet, it is fate! Great is Allah,
and Mohammed is his prophet. lamre •
signed.” The average hustling Amer
ican is built on a different model. He
uses disasters as the rounds of a ladder
upon which he will mount to
dizzy heights, tor the man v)J!r> has not
a grain of superstition iu his soul is
bound to climb to the top.
George Rathborne.