A RECENT editorial in The Billboard anent the circus pass evil struck me in a tender spot. Year by year during a period of 40 years I have seen it grow bigger and bigger, till at the present time it is a menace that threatens the very life of the circus, and unless something is done to eliminate it, it will make it an impossibility for a circus to operate without plunging into the red. The editorial very truthfully aserts that the circus owners are themselves to blame for the present deplorable condition of affairs. The circus owners are to blame, and it will be just as easy for these same circus owners to stamp out this evil aa it is for them to make changes in their executive staffs when these officials become inefficient or negligent in their duties.

      To get at the root of the matter, let us go back to the old days of the circus., the days when there were real circuses that amazed and delighted the millions that flocked to see them every year. Those were the days of cheap railroad transportation, cheap lots, cheap newspaper rates, and the price of circus paper was much less than it is today. There were also lower wages paid to everyone from the agents ahead to the star performers back with the show. Those were days when there existed a feeling akin almost to mystery around every circus, when the adult spoke of the circus owner with respect and the children used his name in whispered tones of awe. The circus follower was never considered exactly human, not just like anyone else, and the circus worker was feared and dreaded by every one. They had the name of being tough, and even the town bully thought twice before engaging in any altercation with them. I can remember well, when a kid of 22 traveling with my first circus, of cowering a big six-footer, a granite cutter in a small Maine cost [sic coast?] quarry town. In those days the methods of conducting the business of the circus was to the public a deep mystery and a subject of speculation. People paid their money not only to see the circus and be amused but to see the circus owner as well. Well do I remember visits to the Barnum and Forepaugh circuses, when as the audience filed out of the big top these gentlemen stood high up in the blues near the connection and bowed to the crowds. It was as difficult a matter to meet one of these circus owners personally or in a social way as it is nowadays to step into a New York theatrical manager's office unannounced and help yourself to one of hla cigars. The circus owner had no time or inclination to shine in society or gather about him all the riffraff and bob tail that would like to make his acquaintance, revel in the use of free tickets or sit in the front door and get an earful and an eyeful of the way the business was being conducted. There were too many problems constantly coming up to demand his attention and careful consideration to allow him to give up his valuable time to the entertainment of a set of would-be friends who had but one motive in view, a chance to mooch him out of free admission for themselves and their friends.

      Circus agents in those days did not give the show away in advance. There was no promiscuous broadcasting of free tickets for lot, license, press, feed or favors of any kind. Contracts were made on a rock-ground basis. The circus man paid a fair price for everything, and the folks with whom he dealt paid to see his show. Contracting agents did not use the telephone more and the feet less. If the price for one lot was too high they dug up another one. If one feed man tried to gouge the agent he did business with a rival concern. The newspapers asked a fair price for their space, and there was no discrimination against the circus and a price double that charged to local advertising. The demand for hundreds of passes for carrier boys or the entire mechanical force of the office was unknown. Merchants who sold goods to the circus were glad to do business with it and did not ask for free tickets. In return for readers the newspapers were given sufficient tickets to take care of the owners, the editors and the business manager and their families, and the reporters got one ticket apiece. Tickets to carrier boys were unheard of and never asked for. Lots called for a fixed price and tickets for the lot owner's family and not for 60 or 100 friends. The man who delivered the box of plate at the pressroom or the merchant who took the most space was not fatted up with tickets for his family and most of his employees. The cost of transportation was just half what it is today. Railroads bid for the circus man's business and passes were not given to every petty official and section man and families. The circus man's mind was entirely confined to his business. He did not care for social amenities. He had neither the time or the inclination to shine in the parlor of any social lion or be addressed by his first name by any Tom, Dick or Harry that might presume upon his presence under some pretext or other. Can you imagine the class of folks who now clutter up the front door of the modern circus calling the old-time circus owner Phineas, Adam, Ben or Pete? Nowadays it is. "George told me this." "Charlie said that." "Zeke is going to do this" and "John said that." etc. The trouble today is that the circus man is making himself too approachable. He has acquired a desire to mingle in the society of people who really have no use for him and tolerate him only because of the gratification it may give them to be seen in the company of a big circus man or sit in the front door, an object of envy to his friends, impatiently awaiting a chance to get by the doorman.

      Now we come to the matter of city officials, petty officers and grafters. The demand for free tickets from city officials is almost unbelievable. In the old days of circus graft, protection was secured by liberal use of free tickets. Nowadays this is unnecessary with most shows, but the habit still remains, and the city officials from the mayor down to the city grave digger must have his free tickets for himself and his family, to say nothing of his friends, or else the circus finds itself obliged to pay an excessive license and become the victim of unjust shakedowns. The mayor and his family, as a matter of courtesy, an entitled to free admission, and so are the chief of police and the sheriff and their families, but there it should stop and it will have to stop. Today it keeps a circus adjuster busy half of the day writing out passes for the police department, deputy sheriff, health officers, constables, special police and any minor city official, from the man who issues the license to the fellow who turns on the water for the show's horses. The custom of honoring every badge that shows up at the front door should be abolished. In a very few cases a right sheriff or city marshal will inform the circus man of fake or illegal badges or stars and they are turned down, but it is very seldom that this occurs. But a short time ago a man with six children and a wife showed up at the door of a certain circus and fished out an old deputy sheriff's commission that had been so badly worn that it fell apart as he opened it, and he had not been a legal official for years. He was passed in just the same rather than stir up any trouble with the law. A circus owner, now retired, had the right system in dealing with these officials. He paid his license, the price asked for, and informed the mayor that he was very glad to entertain him and the chief and the sheriff as a matter of courtesy. One officer in uniform delegated to preserve order would be admitted and no more. This should be the rule with all circuses. It will have to be done in the near future. In a certain Indiana city a circus played to 1,000 paid admissions on the day and gave out 1,100 passes to the city officials and police, and the latter stood out in front of the marquee and passed out tickets to anyone they knew from painted ladies to taxi drivers. Years ago the lot man got $25 for his lot and 10 tickets. The circus last year, for illustration, paid $100 and 50 tickets. A high-salaried contracting agent signed the lease. The lot man found it so easy to get what he wanted that this summer when the next high-salaried agent came along he dldnt find it at all difficult to ask for $150 and 100 tickets, all resented. Now you ask me what he did with those tickets and if he needed them. It is easy to figure what he will want another year, and if he doesn't get it and there is no other lot available that city or town won't have a circus if the agent is the right sort. A certain circus tried an experiment the past season putting ahead as contractor a man who came from a small show and who had no big-show experience. To him $25 was a big price to pay for a lot. Did he make good? He did. He found lots at a reasonable price, held down the tickets, was successful in getting cheaper rates in the newspaper offices, had no rumbles with the editors or business managers and gave a fair number of tickets. His judgment was good regarding "spots" and he made the circus a lot of money. He didn't stop at the highest priced hotels or give out tickets to every good-looking broad who smiled at him or passed him the sugar in a swell restaurant. Circuses can save money and plenty of free tickets by employing this kind of agents, and there are plenty of them just watting the chance to make good.

      Nowadays the fire departments in most of the cities and towns have become as great a nuisance as the police. The city is paid for the water used and a man is supposed to be furnished on circus day to look after the hydrant. The fire chief, however, has become obsessed with the idea that he must have tickets for the entire force and their wives or he is going to turn off the water. This actually happened this summer in a Western city and has happened many times also elsewhere. The circus owner with guts can easily put an end to this nuisance. Admit the chief and the fellow with the wrench, but turn down the others. It will have to be done.

      And now we come to the newspapers. Perhaps many may claim that it is unethical for me to take a stand on this matter and I should be content to let matters stand as they are. Any honest newspaperman, however, will agree with me that I am in the right and that something must be done in regard to the demand for free tickets and the manner in which the circus is used. In the first place, the newspapers are not inclined to deal fairly with the circus press agent. Their rates for circus advertising are in most cases in excess of those charged the picture shows and at least 25 per cent higher than the rates quoted to other local advertisers. True, the newspaper business manager may claim that he gives the merchants the benefit of a yearly rate, but where is the justice in making a circus pay the present exorbitant rates and then not asking but demanding anywhere from 100 to 500 free passes, most of them reserved. The circus spends, say, $100 with a city paper and gives it $500 worth of passes—for what? Maybe the circus gets two or three mats or a reader or two: in many cases not a single line of free publicity, for the agent has specified on the contract so many free tickets and so many carrier-boy tickets. The newspaperman is sitting pretty and knows that he is going to get his tickets if he has not done a thing for the circus unless the press agent back with the show is obdurate, and then there is generally a row and the newspaperman sagely remarks, "Remember we go to press tomorrow." I honor the press agent who says go ahead and roast and the next year does away with the sheet in question. The day will and should come when the circus agent contracts for a certain amount of space, pays for a specified number of lines of reading matter and gives no free tickets whatever. The papers are forcing the circus man to take this drastic action. Let me cite an instance. In a Texas city last fall a certain paper (I am charitable and will not mention the name) demanded 400 tickets and 250 carrier-boy tickets, the same to be reserved, but according to the agent they were to be paid for at the rate of 50 cents a ticket. The show spent $85 in advertising with the paper. On show day no one knew anything about the 50-cent arrangement and doesn't till this day. The tickets had been sent on in advance and they were used on circus day by well-dressed ladies and bearded men. As far as could be ascertained not a carrier boy had one of them. The other paper got wind or it, asked for 150 carrier-boy tickets and was refused. In consequence, it did not give the circus one line of publicity. Carrier-boy tickets rarely reach the carrier boys. They are used by everyone in the office and anyone outside who has a friend on the sheet. Press agents are giving weekly papers 25 free tickets when there are not six employees in the office. It is getting worse and worse every year, and I can't for the life of me see where the circus loses If it turns down the tickets. The crowd comes just the same, and there is more room to accommodate the pay patrons. Local merchants use advertising space in the dally and weekly papers. There are ads for the grocery man, the butcher and the department store. How long would the merchants stand for it if the newspaperman demanded a crate of eggs from the grocer, a roast of beef from the butcher and a suit of clothes from the department store in lieu of running the advertising? It wouldn't be long before he would be filling his advertising space with boiler plate and eventually, if he did not mend his ways, would be back at the case setting ads for some other newspaper if he happened to be a practical printer. There are two ways to settle the matter forever so far as the press is concerned. Let the agent pay cash for everything and the paper the same, or else leave the matter of tickets open to the press agent back with the show to give out on show day tickets commensurate with the amount of free readers that have been given. As far as the carrier boys are concerned, the circus has been playing Santa Claus long enough.

      The circus man can turn down and not injure himself in any way the demands for free tickets from the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. He can recognize at the front door only showmen who are actually active at the time; he can curtail his list of high and low-brow moochers; he can hire officials who will work for his interests and cooperate with him in holding down the free list and have rather in mind the putting of money in the ticket wagon. If all circus owners would take a determined stand in the matter there would be bigger and better shows, and the owners themselves would have more time to devote to their business, uninterrupted and unmolested by the free-ticket pest.

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