and goatee.

His glasses are perched on a powerful nose, but when the wearer gets excited or interested they are nervously dangled in the hand. Everybody knows Joe Howard's history, how he traveled around with the Prince of Wales during his visit to this country; how he accompanied Lincoln to Washington; how, in 1864, he issued a bogus proclamation, signed A. Lincoln, calling for 500,000 men, and how he was imprisoned in Fort Lafayette; how he worked on the Herald and Times, how he was part proprietor of the old Star, and how he started the Democrat for Brick Pomeroy.

As a

This active man, who is a native of Brooklyn and the son of a clergyman, has written novelettes and novels, interviews and leaders, has dictated to his stenographers columns of political convention matter and yards of feuilletons. His income is estimated at $15,000 a year. His out-of-town letters are well known. His pseudonym "M. T. Jugg," is not appropriate. Howard does take a drink occasionally, but he never smokes. dramatic and musical man he is good, not in his description of the artistic work of actors and playwrights, but in his pungent descriptions of their personalities, characteristics, eccentricities. His style is touch-and-gossipy, if I may be allowed the term, his comparisons original and strong. There are very few prominent men in the country, off or on the stage, whom he doesn't know. There are very few actresses of note who haven't had the pleasure of his acquaintance. Joseph Howard, Jr., likes the players of the fair sex. He likes those especially whose dresses do not begin too soon nor end too late. Do you blame him?

Edward A. Dithmar, of New York, is the dramatic critic of the Times. He is judicious in tone, analytic in method, skillful in exposition, well informed, well read. Now and then there is a phrase that cuts too deeply, perhaps, but, as a general thing, the intelligent public bears him out in his opinions. Franklin File, of the Sun, who is a Trojan by birth, has a concise, pithy, matterof-fact way of treating play-house topics, unbiased by managerial champagne or box office chicken salad J. R. Towse, of the Evening Post, a 'varsity man from old England, like Dithmar, is analytic and comparative in his criticisms, and gives you elaborate but straightforward accounts of plot of play and work of players. He sins, if he sins at all, by too coldly judicial a tone, by an occasional severity untempered by sympathy. These three men are a credit to the profession. They are fearlessly independent. You will never find them in that category of individuals of whom Artemus Ward wrote: "Sum editers cum in krowds to my show, and then axt me ten sents a line for puffs. I objected to paying, but they sed ef I didn't doun with the dust they'd wipe my show from the face of the earth. They sed the press was the arkymedean leaver which moved the wurld."

What's on the boards at the Metropolitan Opera House this Saturday afternoon? Never mind what let's go to have a glimpse of the critics. There is Frederick A. Schwab, of the Times,

short, compact, alert, curling his tawny mustache. A little to the left sits tall, courteous, militarylooking John P. Jackson, of the World, chatting with bluff, genial, broad-shouldered Leopold Lindau, of the Figaro and the Dramatic News. To the right I see athletic Henry E. Krehbiel, of the Tribune, whispering to blondish Henry T. Finck, of the Evening Post.

Schwab, a New York man, first worked as a compositor on the Messager Franco-Americain, then reported for the News and the Herald, then became foreign editor on the Times. Drifting into theatrical business, he managed Neilson, Bernhardt and Langtry, under Abbey, was the first to take the Wallack company out on the road, and managed the Musical Festival for Theodore Thomas. Returning to journalism, he became musical editor of the Times in 1883, and holds the position now.

John P. Jackson is from a town near Sheffield, England. As a young man he went to Germany sent a letter on the Ober-Ammergau Passion Play to the Tribune; wrote for the Evening Post; interviewed Döllinger and Von Arnim for the Herald; and was placed in charge of that paper's office in London. Sent to the seat of war in Bulgaria, he translated Lohengrin" amid the bursting of bombs. Back in the Strand, he translated for the Carl Rosa Opera Company the "Flying Dutchman," drilled the chorus and translated into elegant metre, and with poetic sense," Rienzi" and Tannhäuser." He interviewed Wagner at Bayreuth; visited Paris and Vienna, and returned to London. Representative of the Herald at the coronation of the Czar, Jackson was subsequently commissioned by that paper to meet the Jeannette survivors; was gone nine months on this expedition to the polar ocean, traversing ten thousand miles by reindeer, horses and dogs. Among his literary works Jackson numbers his poetic translation of Faust;" an interesting and richly illustrated volume on the Ober Ammergau Passion Play; a translation of Wildenbuch's fine play, Harold;" of Scheffel's "Trompeter vor Seckingen," and of Hamerling's "Seven Death Sins." Is not this a good record for a man who on opera nights does not retire before three in the morning?

Leopold Lindau, born near Magdeburg, Germany, is one of the ablest and most rational of the Wagnerites in the city. Formerly connected with the Mail and Express and the Evening Post as musical critic, now on the Dramatic News and the Figaro, Lindau shows in style and manner the sound common sense blended with abundant knowledge that go to make a reliable and honest play-house reviewer.

Henry T. Finck, of the Evening Post, a graduate of Harvard and a student at Berlin and Heidelberg, is a perfect monomaniac on the subject of Wagner, and endeavors to put his readers into the same condition of mind. Jackson and Lindau, even Kobbé, of the Mail and Express, are lukewarm compared with him.

He seems to date his articles Bayreuth. He dreams nightly of Siegfried and Tristan. He rides daily with the Walküre, and plays cards with the Nibelungen. I hear that he is getting ready a book on types of female beauty. Ten to one, Brunehilde is his ideal.

Henry E. Krehbiel, of the Tribune, born in Ann Arbor, Mich., came to the metropolis from Cincinnati. He used to lecture at the College of Music there, but got into a row with the authorities because of the independence of his strictures on that institution in one of the city prints. Among his published matter, besides the regular journeywork in his paper, are his Lectures on Musical Criticism;" his translation of the libretto of Nicolai's "Merry Wives of Windsor;" and his "Season," a review of the concert and operatic year. Krehbiel and Schwab form a striking contraast. Krehbiel writes learnedly, with his eye ever to the land of Wagner and Liszt. Schwab dashes off his column in a breezy, piquant style, with a marked predilection for Verdi and Gounod. Krehbiel comes out with professional elaborateness -quotes, gives dates, cites precedents. Schwab politely suggests, pithily opines, ingeniously infers. One of the most clever, if one of the youngest, musical and dramatic critics in town is William T. Henderson, who is attached to the Times A son

of the oldest manager and of one of the most popular actresses in the country, a graduate of Princeton, Henderson has written verses, grave and gay; librettos, and translations of librettos; articles for magazines; letters from watering places. His column in the Times of Sunday, captioned "The Orchestra at Work," demonstrates his knowledge of the technique of the stage and of music, and his power of gentle irony and stinging sarcasm.

Little Steinberg, of the Herald, pert, saucy, snappy, always seems to be in a minority. He writes an interesting criticism, but one in which there is always a note of insincerity, a striving after effect. But who can please all the critics? You remember the couplets of Mendelssohn

"Let a man write as he will,

Still the critics fight.
Therefore let him please himself,

If he would do right."

The curtain has rolled down on the third act. Shall we leave the opera house and stroll down Broadway? In the throng of business, fashion and folly that surges on the great thoroughfare of a Saturday afternoon, we are sure to meet some more of the prominent dramatic and musical critics of Gotham

The day is bright; the air bracing; the crowd dense.

The two men you see together, walking slowly, conversing earnestly, are Brander Matthews and

Lawrence Hutton. What they don't know of the history of the New York stage isn't worth knowing. Their works are in every dramatic library. Those other two men you perceive crossing the street from the Gilsey House are Charles A. Byrne, of the Morning Journal, and Leander Richardson, late of Comment. Audacious writers are these, masters of a slashing style, at times encumbered with more libel suits than dollars. Byrne, of powerful build, handsome profile, is an Irishman, and was educated in Brussels. Richardson, tall, strapping, was born in Cincinnati, but is at home in New York. Byrne has been connected with

Truth. He founded the Dramatic News and Dramatic Times. He has written for I know not

how many other papers. His penholder is made of wormwood. His pen is dipped in gall. Richardson, at one time or another, worked on the Tribune and the Times. He writes for out-oftown papers. He is the author of farces and plays. In his book, "The Dark City," he tells us what he thinks of London. Look out for him. He pounces on an antagonist with as much zest as his fine red setter makes for game.

A little further down the street walks Paul Potter, of Town Topics. He is a man of medium size, with a clean-shaven, young face, dark eyes, close-cut hair prematurely grayish. He had been dramatic critic on the Herald but a few days when he made things hum. He attacked Janauschek for her playing of "My Life," and the actress felt it so keenly that she had Nym Crinkle write a defense of her, and distributed ten thousand copies of the article throughout the country. Potter is incisive, outspoken in his critiques, regardless of consequences. Alfred Trumble, artist, journalist, littérateur, is his associate on Town Topics. He is short in stature, with a fine, intellectual head on his shoulders. Trumble is one of the brightest feuilletonists in town. Any topic he handles, he handles as though it were a butterfly. He does not so much as brush the dust from its variegated wings. He can be severe without being coarse. Have you read his recent critique on the acting of Edwin Booth? Does it not remind you of those which Cazauran years ago wrote on that idolized actor? There is the same acumen, the same clear conception of the rules of art, but there is a more trained literary manner of treatment. Potter and Trumble both have the dash, the elegance, the intellectual nimbleness of Nathaniel Parker Willis, and they have, besides, a fund of solid information never possessed by that old-time chroniqueur.

What a crush, rush, swish on Broadway at halfpast five o'clock! The matinées at the theatres are over. There go Townsend, of the Tribune; Lucien Chaffin, of the Commercial Advertiser ; Price, of the Star; Graham, of the World; Maybury Fleming, of the Mail and Express; Morris, of the Telegram; Gallagher, of the Daily News; and W. T. Perkins, of the Daily Graphic. Keep your eyes open as you walk on. That slight, polite, pleasant faced man is Harrison Grey Fiske, of the Mirror. Hart, of the Dramatic News; Ford, of the Sunday Courier; Garneo, of the Clipper, are not on the promenade this afternoon,

nor are Jerome B. Eddy, Fred. Archer and Fred Lyster. I see poetic G. E. Montgomery, the witty McLellan, the entertaining Morton, and a score more of men interested in theatricals. That short, thin, nervous body is Alfred J. Cohen, the gracefully flippant feuilletonist who signs "Alan Dale' in Life. There goes heavy Floersheim, of the Musical Courier, with a fur cap on his head, and yonder sprightly Miss Fiske, the "giddy gusher of the Mirror, with her little hands in her muff. Ah, here we meet John W. Keller, tall, kindly, rosy-cheeked! The grasp of his hand corroborates for you in an instant that in his college days he pulled a strong oar in the Yale crew. This discriminating critic of the Dramatic News and the World hails from Paris, Kentucky. He wanted to enlist in the navy when he left college, but he finally drifted into journalism. His successful "Tangled Lives" is a play full of promise, and he is writing another.

We have arrived at Union Square in our promenade. There looms the Morton House. In front of it loafs the usual phalanx of actors. There are all kinds of them, the genteel, the shabby genteel, the shaven, the unshaven, some dressed with discreet elegance, others decked in garish plaids. They chew, spit, smoke, converse in groups, fix the women who pass. No one knows more of these fellows than hail-fellow-well met Gus Heckler, of the Dramatic News. No one can touch them off better in a sketch than Blakely Hall, who signs his articles in the Sun.

It is now six o'clock. Suppose we drop into the Morton House and take a cocktail before dinner.

STAR

Thirteenth Street

EATRE

and Broadway.

AUDRAN'S Latest Opera Comique, in Three Acts,

INDIANA.

Libretto by H. B. Farnie Presented by the McCaull Opera Comique Co., Jno. A. McCaul!, Proprietor and Manager,

WITH THE FOLLOWING ARTISTIC ENSEMBLE:

Indiana Grey faunt..

Lady Prue...

Nan..

Maud.

Matt o' the Mill.

Lord Dayrell...
Philip Jervaux..
Sir Mulbery Mullit.
Peter..

Charles Surface..... Joseph Surface....

Crabtree..

Sir Benj. Backbite.

Moses.

Rowley.

Careless.

Trip..

.H Hamilton Charles Groves Daniel Leeson Creston Clarke Herbert Ayling

Sir Harry Bumper (with song)

Henry Platé

Folliet..

Snake..

W. H. Pope

Cosmo..

Servant to Joseph... S. Du Bois

Servant to Lady Sneerwell..J. Craig

Lady Teazle.

Mrs Candour.. Maria...

Miss Annie Robe Mme. Ponisi Miss Carrie Coote

Lady Sneerwell.. Miss Sadie Bigelow

Thursday, January 27, the powerful melodrama, HARBOR LIGHTS.

Annette..
Capt. Hazzard.
Madge..

Giles.

First Keeper. First Lackey. Winnifred.. Belle.

Eben....

Dicken...

Miss Lily Post Mrs. Laura Joyce Bell .Miss Annie Meyers Miss Adine Drew

Digby Bell

Geo Olmi .E. W. Hoff

Ellis Ryse Mr. H. A. Cripps Miss Ida Eissing Miss Bessie Fairbain Miss Celie Eissing Miss C. Blanchard

Miss G. Hollingsworth W. F. McLaughlin .A. Maina C. Daly Miss Belle Jennings

Miss Tolie Pettit Miss Grace Ward

Miss Belle Cavis

The price of yearly subscription to THE THEATRE is four dollars in advance. We cannot undertake to return manuscript that is not suitable, unless we receive sufficient postage to do so. Care is always taken not needlessly to destroy valuable manuscript.

The Editor solicits contributions from the readers of THE THEATRE, and suggests that old play bills, and scraps relating to the stage, notes, news and items appertaining to the different arts, would be acceptable. It is the desire of the Editor to establish a widely-circulated magazine, and to further that end every good idea will be acted upon so far as possible.

* All articles appearing in THE THEATRE are written especially for it unless credited otherwise.

MR. CHARLES B. WELLES, of Lawrence Barrett's Company, explained to me one day last week the plan of the Booth-Barrett tour for next season of two hundred nights: "Julius Cæsar" will be the principal play, with Booth as Brutus and Barrett as Cassius; "Othello," with Booth as Iago and Barrett as the Moor; "Hamlet," with Booth as the Prince and Barrett as the Ghost; "Leah," with Booth as the King and Barrett as Edgar; “Macbeth," with Booth as the Thane of Cawdor and Barrett as the Thane of Fife; "The King's Pleasure" and "The Merchant of Venice," with Barrett as Gringoire and Booth as Shylock; and a possible seventh programme, with Booth as Don Cæsar and Barrett as Don Felix or David Garrick. It seems to me that Mr. Booth ought now to play the part of Othello to Barrett's Iago. This is considered by many people to be one of his strongest parts, and in Germany was pronounced the greatest of Othellos. This proposed combination of our two leading actors will probably result in large

WHOLE NO. 46

financial profit as well as brilliant perform

ances.

* **

MR. RUDOLPH ARONSON has sent to the Actors' Fund of America a check for one thousand six hundred and seven dollars, the proceeds of the recent benefit performance at the Casino.

AN important music note from Germany informs us that Emil Götze, the great Cologne tenor, imitates to perfection the notes of all the feathered tribes without twitching his lips, or, indeed, moving a muscle of his face, preserving all the while a look of perfect indifference, as though the matter did not concern him in the least. The world abounds in ventriloquists, but Götze belongs to the much more select circle of ventrosibilants. Götze once visited a toy shop and asked to be shown a few speaking dolls. No sooner had he touched one of the figures on the critical spot than to every one's amazement it sang like a canary. The wonder increased when he snatched up another puppet, which gave out the note of a quail. The shopman began to think the unknown customer was a sorcerer, and was considerably relieved when Götze declared his identity.

*

**

THERE is a sad piece of news floating about and if there is no truth in it, sweet Miss Annie Robe ought to contradict the statement that she is engaged to be married to Mr. Wright Sanford. If it is true, Miss Robe will probably not regard it as sad, for she doesn't realize how many admirers she has who will be fired by jealousy.

**

I HAVE it on good authority that certain young English actors belonging to Mr. Wallack's company, not meaning either Mr. Bellew or Mr. Kelcey, have frequently amused themselves during the run of A School for Scandal," by standing at the wings and “guying" Mr. John Gilbert's performance in a most disrespectful manner. If these young men would try and profit by some of the delightful art he teaches and endeavor to become as honored as this noble man is in his profession and out of it, they would at least appreciate the instincts of a gentleman.

* **

IT is reported that M. Octave Feuillet has