"Come all ye warm-hearted countrymen, I pray you will draw
near."
--<sc>Old Song<sc>.
"About daybreak we passed through Hell Gate, with a kiting breeze, and
were pointing for Whitestone, where we proposed to show the following
night. We reached there some time in the forenoon. Fancy our dismay when
we learned that North's Circus was billed there the same evening. North
had chartered a steamer and was bent on precisely the same lay as we
were, with this difference, that he was more thoroughly equipped for the
undertaking. As soon as we made this unpleasant discovery our spirits
fell to zero and our hearts slipped into our boots. Some of the people
were so discouraged that they were in favor of giving up the 'snap'
there and then, but the more optimistic ones determined to stick it out,
and stick we did.
"Along in the afternoon we saw the North steamer come along with flags
flying and a band playing. If we hadn't been on professional business
ourselves we possibly might have enjoyed the exhibition. We should have
left Whitestone right away, but the wind had died out and there wasn't a
capful of air stirring. Some of the members of the company expressed a
desire to go ashore, but I objected. I had made up my mind to start with
the first breath of wind that sprang up. To profitably employ our time
we set to work to fish for our supper. Our larder was not over and above
flush, and a few fish would prove quite acceptable. Just about sundown a
breeze sprang up, and we took advantage of it. We hoisted anchor and
stood up the Sound with every stitch of canvas set and drawing.
"I forget just the name of the next stopping place we reached, but I
should judge it was a point opposite, or nearly opposite, to Greenwich
or Stamford. We remained on board until about eight o'clock next
morning, and then a little party went ashore to reconnoiter. The town
proper was only a short distance from the little harbor. Imagine our
feelings when we ascertained that North had billed this town also, and
was to show there that very night. This was too much for poor, trusting
human nature. The opposition show itself we wouldn't have minded, but
the colored printing, streamers, and snipes that adorned the fences,
barns and hen houses almost paralyzed us.
"In sheer desperation we brought the tent ashore and prepared to tackle
fate and the opposition, and trust to luck. We put out no bills, and got
ready to make much big noise of the proper kind when the opportune
moment arrived. We hired a wagon from an enterprising farmer for our
band; then sent complimentary tickets to the dominie to come to see
'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' for the familiar old drama, notwithstanding the
wear and tear of many years of barn-storming, is still regarded as
somewhat of a religious entertainment. We toiled like beavers to work up
business for the night. The attraction pitted against us was strong, but
what of that? Desperation gave us strength, and we hoped for the best.
"Along in the afternoon as I was about to board the _Gem_ I was
astonished to find no appearance of the North circus steamer. It was
nigh on to high water, a dead calm prevailed, and the atmosphere was hot
and misty. I thought little of it at the time, until I reached the deck.
I knew that, allowing a fair margin for delay, a power craft could run
up in short order, and an hour or so would be ample time to put up the
tent and get everything in readiness for the night's performance.
"While I sat at the head of the companionway meditating over the
situation and drawing consolation from a bit of briarwood, the property
man hailed me from the shore. I immediately manned the dingy and rowed
for the shore to ascertain what was the matter. When I got there he
informed me that some of the inhabitants from the interior had got in
town to see the show and were anxious to buy reserved seats. I inquired
if he had accommodated them. He told me he had not done so, as he had an
idea that it was the other show they were looking for. However, he was
not certain on that score. For the time being, however, he put them off
with the explanation that the ticket register was out of order and the
tickets were not yet ready. The family wagons and carryalls were
beginning to come in, and by four o'clock or thereabouts the little
place presented quite an animated appearance. The prospects for a crowd
were good. Every minute I expected to hear the sound of the steamboat's
whistle at the point announcing her arrival. It was getting along well
in the afternoon when the thought entered my mind, 'Now, if by any
chance the steamer should be delayed, what course would I pursue?'
"The more I turned the subject over in my mind the stronger I became
impressed with the idea that desperate cases necessitate strenuous
remedies. The heat of the afternoon became oppressive, and the haze had
become a thick fog over the water. Occasionally it would lift slightly
and then settle down more dense than before. Five o'clock came, and
still no steamer. About ten minutes later we heard a sound that nearly
knocked me out. It was the steamer with the other fellow's show. We
heard the blow, but could not get a glimpse of the blowpipe. We could
hear, but could not see. We remained on board some time, and then all
hands went ashore. The fog still hung over the water and the whistle
continued to blow. We resolved to play a desperate game. So long as the
fog continued we were all safe, as I felt satisfied the captain of the
steamer would not dare venture to run in closer to the shore at that
stage of the tide, especially in such a fog.
"We hurried up to the tent and began to sell tickets. Buyers naturally
made inquiries, but the ticket-seller economized considerably on the
truth in his answers. We paid the farmer for his wagon that had been
used by the band one half in cash and the balance in passes. Sharp at
eight o'clock we rung the curtain up to a jammed house of the most
astonished countrymen, women and children you ever set eyes upon. They
did not know what to make of it, but they swallowed it all in the most
good-natured manner possible. We introduced bits of 'The Old Homestead,'
'The Two Orphans,' 'Rip Van Winkle,' slices of Shakespeare, Augustus
Thomas, George Ade, and other great writers, so you see we were giving
them bits of the best living and dead dramatists. Our native
Shakespeares do the same thing nowadays in all of their original works,
and that's no idle fairy tale. We sandwiched comedy, drama, tragedy, and
farce, and interlarded the mixture with Victor Herbert and Oscar
Hammerstein's opera comique and May Irwin coon songs. Such a
presentation of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' was never before presented, and I am
free to confess the chances are never will be again. We actually played
the town on the other fellow's paper. It wasn't exactly according to
Hoyle, but then any reasonable thinking man will concede that necessity
knows no law, and as the country people came to see a show it would have
been a grievous sin to have disappointed them.
"It did not take us long to strike tent and hurry on board when the
curtain fell on the last act. By this time the fog had lifted. As there
was a breeze we made sail and stood out for the open sea. It was near
the top of high water as we passed the point, and there we saw the
steamer going in. She had run on a sandbar in the fog and was compelled
to stay there for high water to get off. That's how the other fellow got
left and how we turned his mishap to our advantage."