They want to see, like all crowds, but
a New York crowd has little feeling
to waste ou itself, and partakeds some
thing of the nature of the New York
police, whereas a London crowd, like
the London police, never seems to lose
its temper.
“l>id 1 get out of it V I did. Some
mounted soldiers had to get through
tiie crowd. They passed me and I fol
lowed in their wake. I never got to
my seat, hut I was able to buy a
place where 1 could stand and por
spire without the fear of death from
external pressure being eternally be
for my eyes. I walked about at night
and looked at the illuminations and the
crowds. It. was the crowd, however,
that took my eye. It. may have been
noisy and it may have indulged in
some horse play, but it was heavily
charged with good nature. What sur
prised me was that I saw hardly any
police. No number of police, it. seemed
to me, could have controlled such a
crowd, but the crowd appeared to con
trol itself. L learned more about crowds
on Thursday than 1 ever knew before.
I*ll tell you how it impressed me in the
way of magnitude. If you were to
take the ground between Fourteenth
street and One Hundred and Twenty
fifth street—about five and a half
miles —and between First and Eighth
avenues, New York City, and fill it
with people, you might get a crowd
that would equal in size the crowd that
I saw in London on Thursday.”
THE LONELINESS OF STAGE LIFE.
Georgia Gay van was talking of the
loneliness of stage life, says Stagelaud.
