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was simple and tragic. Solomon Kails, the inventor, starving, perfecting his invention of the steam engine, or some thing like it, has his plans stolen by the English, is contemptuously sent to a mad house by Cardinal Richelieu as insane, and, when his child dies and his machine is gone, goes mad in earnest and dies rav ing. The audience followed the play breathlessly. One small girl of perhaps twelve, in a red satin waist, hung over the gallery railing with both arms, wrapt in the scenes, her long necklace of bright blue' beads pendent in the air, like the BlessedDamosel; and when the tragic cli maxes came, like the Blessed Damosel again "She cast her arms along: The golden barriers. And laid her l'ace between her hands, And wept (I heard her tears)." For that matter, the Spectator heard everybody’s tears. At times, as when the child died, the whole house was dis solved. The feelings of the audience were genuine and deep. When, in response to the curtain call, the villain, the soubrette and the hero came out after the first act, the villain was hissed vehemently off the stage. Even the children stopped sucking the sticks of candy and joined in. .Jacob Adler was called half a dozen times before the cur tain after the last act and was applauded wildly each time. “Adler, he is a good man,” explained the neighbor; “he al ways helps when there is need, lie has a heart for the poor.” Between the acts everybody went visiting all over the theatre. Few seemed to go out but there was continual move ment up and down the aisles and loud greetings were interchanged. After the second act, an official of the Knee-Pants Union made a speech from the stage. It was very long and fluent, and full of talk about the open shop and the closed shop and President Roosevelt and the Broadway manufacturers. The Spectator knew that, because these English words were used over and over again, Yiddish evidently having no equivalent for them. Also, the audience were being urged to join the Knee-Pants Union and to stick by it and by the closed shop; and when the harangue was over, the orchestra played the “Marseillaise” as a curtain raiser for the next act, while all the audience got back into their own seats again. But the great sensation of the evening was after the last act. when Adler, at the fifth curtain call, led out a slender, eager-faced Jew, over whom the audience fairly went wild. “That is Joseph Barondess,” said the Spectator’s friend, “who was so active in the last Garment Workers’ strike. We are cer tainly in luck, ’ ’ and the Spectator felt so, too, when Barondess began to speak. He had the musical, powerful voice of the born orator, and the Spectator man aged to understand a great deal of what he said. It was an appeal to the unions THE JEWISH OUTLOOK to stand together and fight their way forward, and to the Russian Jews to cultivate a just pride in their race and country. Why should the Irish Roman Catholic rejoice in his race and religion, he asked,'and the Russian Jew be behind hand in standing up for his country and his faith,“lifting his head in this country of the free? Japan was paying Russia now for all her sins ‘an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ ’’ But Russia was still “unser land,” still to be loved, still to he helped. “Do you see that man in the first row, second seat?” whispered the Spectators’ companion. “He needs none of Barondcss’s urging, lie is my tailor —not very much of a tailor, perhaps, but with a good trade. Well, he sent fifty thousand rifles to Russia yesterday, to help the revolution ists. ’ ’ The Spectator came out into the cold night air and took the up-town car. The brownstonc district looked very dull and lifeless after Grand street. What Broad way theatre could have shown drama and audience to match the Yiddish play? The Spectator knows of none.—The Outlook. SOME DAYS MUST BE DARK AND DREARY. (Written for the Jewish Outlook.) They say every cloud has a silver lin ing— That behind the clouds the sun is shin ing; That our fate is the common fate of all— It’s hard to believe —if we believe at all. Perhaps the clouds are lined with gold— The mountains they say hide wealth un told ; These dreams are all right—but how about The things we can't turn wrong side out? We can see for ourselves that the sky is gray— Has been dull and heavy with rain all day; How do we know—and what do we care If the sun is shining off somewhere? We know it is seldom that friends are true, We know that strangers don’t care what we do; A poor unfortunate might die in the street; When found-—the lent—“how in discreet, ’ ’ So we can’t depend on sun or sky— On weather or friends—l don’t know why; But bury all feeling, and without a groan, Get out —and smile qiid “go it alone.’’ Florence L. Bnrson. Denver, Colo. ALLEN J. READ PRINTING AND ENGRAVING Rooms 5 and 6 Essex Building Phone Olive 609 1617 LAWRENCE ST. “To be Reynier Gloved is to be gloved in and exclusive st yle.” Sole agents in Denver. [DOty (29 “MEET MB AT LEWIS’.” THE FONTIUS SHOE CO. I6th and Champa The Largest Exclusive Shoe Store West of New York —The Latest in Footwear Always—Prices Popular Because We Do Not Give Credit. -ISpijilipsbonj^^S | 720*724 16th »r. Pcnprr ~ iPuNr ftamuahl The first Complete Showing: of New Spring Garments at Philipsborn’s fOSliH’% The month of speei.il prices on the goods purchased by our special buyer whom we send East to take advantage of the cut and closing-out prices made by the large wholesale jobbing and importing houses at inventory time. See daily papers for details; it will pay you well to keep posted.