The Tragedy of the Stage.

One thousand innocent girls, the majority of them still in their teens, are lured to a life of shame each year in the city of Chicago alone through the stage.

This is the statement of the police. It is the statement of the keepers of the dives themselves.

A visit to almost any of the dives of the Twenty-second street district will convince even the most skeptical reader of the truth of this statement.

Enter and inquire for a show girl.

True, she will not be the sprightly, supple and pretty creature one sees nightly on the stages of the better theaters of the city. Yet she is a show girl—or, rather, I might say, has been one.

She is a show girl who has fallen. The sparkle of wine, the glare of lights and the happy-go-lucky company of the after-theater parties have proven her downfall. Under their baneful influences she has been led on, until now you see her dull-eyed, disheveled haired, with all ambition gone, her natural appetites ruined—a Magdelen.

When a girl becomes a member of a chorus or ballet of a comic opera company—that is to say, when she enters the profession—she is usually a good girl, of fair education, with supple figure, and usually beautiful in features. As a rule she has never kept company with men, moneyed men, blase men of the world.

In every chorus one will find a number of "old stagers," or girls who have been in the profession for several years. They have been through "the mill." The gay life has attracted them. They know lots of "dandy good fellows" who are more than willing to "show them a good time."

The family names of the young men are almost copyrighted by the newspapers. Every one has heard of them.

It is easy for the "old stager" to win the young and inexperienced girl unless the younger show girl has a great amount of will power. Once won over, the work is easy.

It starts with a dash through the city in a ten thousand dollar automobile. Drinks are taken en route. Of course, the young girl can't refuse. She is with such nice fellows: The "old stager" urges her on. The "stager" may have lost her attractions, but the old gay life must be kept up. To keep her place in the whirl she must turn procuress for the rich men who must be amused. If she did not bring the young girl her company would not be asked.

The first trip usually proves the first step into the dark pit. Even though the young show girl may not have fallen the gay company has had its effect. The next time a party is suggested there is no refusal. There is no refusal of the drinks brought to the girl. The suggestive remarks and show of animal passion of the male companion are received with less resentment.

Then the final step towards the brothel is taken. It may be in the richly furnished apartments of the young man after a night's carousal. It may be in some of the loop hotels that live off of fallen women. It may be in the brothel itself.

The senses may have been dulled by some sleeping potion. It is not an unusual occurrence for a girl to be drugged while sipping some innocent looking drink or partaking of the luxurious viands set forth at these seemingly gay parties. The "wealthy young man"—the companion of the young girl—may be a white slaver in disguise, merely spending the money of his employers, the keepers of the brothels, that he may be able to supply them with new human flesh.

The records of the police courts of the city tell of scores of such cases. They do not tell the story, however, of the thousands who have been lured in a like manner and who kept silence because of their shame.

They do not tell of the young girls to whom the promise of marriage was made and who, under this persuasion, fell. In some instances the promise is even fulfilled, but the girl wife awakes to find herself even farther advanced toward the ultimate goal—the brothel.

Once on the downward path, there is but little chance of reformation. The thought of her shame drives her from her purer companions. She seeks company that is on a lower moral plane. The dull, innocent existence and the purer pleasures no longer attract her. Home and parents are forgotten in the mad whirl. Religion and home teachings are a thing of the past. The whole nature has changed.

She gradually assumes the habits and customs of her immoral companions. She drops into the slangy language of the underworld. The oaths and drunkenness that once were repellant to her are heard with an unmoved conscience. Her physical charms are attacked by this fly-by-night existence. All of the innocent attributes that once were applauded and extolled are dead.

The managers no longer want her. She is not sprightly enough. Her voice has lost its charm and her face is dull. They must have girls who excite interest and enliven their audiences. It is only a short time until she is unable to find a place to work.

It is a mad, wild dash while it lasts—good cheer and Bohemian fellowship, but it always has the ultimate end—the furnished flat or the recognized den of vice.

It may last a year, it may last several, but the goal is the same. The girl who "saw the good time and met such nice fellows" is eventually a victim to the caprice of flesh buyers. In the end she doles out her own body for a price. This is the price she pays for her "good time."

But few of the girls who start on this downward path ever reform. Many have tried, but the way is too hard. They meet persons who have known them when they were leading this evil existence. They are slighted and scoffed at. Their ambition to again become pure and good is thwarted. As a rule they sink back into the whirl. This time they give up in utter abandon. Nothing is then too bad or repulsive. The end is not far off.

The girl in the road company is subjected to the greater temptations. She must travel at all hours of the night and day. The road shows usually play but one night in a town.

The hotel accommodations are usually poor. In some places she must "double up" with somebody. Sometimes it is a male companion.

In the burlesque shows this is not regarded as out of the way. The chorus girls of these vulgar attractions are usually "castoffs" or "has beens" from the comic operas or more wholesome attractions. Their charms have diminished, therefore they must accept these more lowly positions.

The dressing rooms of men in many of the smaller theaters are in close connection of those of the women. Recently in the city of Chicago a crusade was started against these places. Some alterations were made, but the condition in many instances is unimproved.

The young girls are taught and drilled that sex is to be forgotten on the stage.

Here feminine traits are to be left at home. If a girl is asked to kiss or throw her arms about a man, no matter what character he may be, it is her duty to do so. If she is asked to bare her body to the public gaze, with nothing but skin tights to cover her nudity, it is her duty to do so. That is what she is being paid for.

The animal nature of the audience must be satisfied.

Every year the vulgarity becomes more and more apparent. New and more suggestive novelties must be introduced to satisfy this "taste." The songs must have a "meaning"—the dances, some of which bring the blush of shame to the brow of even the most hardened theater-goers—must also arouse the passion.

The good girl first rebels at such. Day in and day out, as she rehearses, she sees other girls doing the thing that is required without kick or objection. She gradually falls into it herself. It does not look so bad after she has bowed to the manager's wishes several times.

It isn't long before the things that once caused her to blush and falter seem to be a natural consequence. The things against which she once fought are repulsive no longer.

She gradually falls into line with the others. Her innocence is a thing of the past.

She is no longer a girl—she is a woman "who knows."

It was about a year ago that I saw a young girl, a beautiful little creature scarcely nineteen years old, at a Chicago theater. She was a beauty, even in comparison with the other comely girls in the squad of beginners.

While they were resting after an act I talked with her. She frankly told me she was stage struck, but that her desire to become a great actress was inborn and not gained by association. Before she came to the city from her home in a little town out in Iowa she had seen but one show. Her ideas of the stage had been gained from books and from day dreams.

Her conversation was the essence of innocence. Her family had been particular about her rearing. They had been in moderate circumstances and had given her everything in their power. She had come to Chicago to attain her ideal—to become a great actress.

She was of the frank and innocent type. Everybody she regarded as her friend. She was enthusiastic about her art. That her ambition would be realized she did not doubt for an instant.

It was ten months later when I met her again.

Her face wore a tell-tale look. The daintiness of bearing and innocent features were missing. Her shyness was gone. She was bold, and immeasureably aged.

A heavy coat of powder and rouge besmeared her face, but only served to make the dark circles beneath her eyes stand forth with more prominence. The simple, childish gown I had admired was replaced by a showy, flashy creation.

In one glance I read the answer, the secret of her changed existence.

When her eyes met mine, for a second in their dull depths I could see an expression of the old innocence. Probably it was the thought she entertained for that short space in the connecting of me with her old and pure existence.

When she spoke I could not be mistaken. Try as she did to appear the girl of old, it was useless. The pace had told and left its trace only too strongly written on every line of her face.

After the usual greeting I asked her to take dinner with me. She assented.

In the cafe I asked her what had happened. How she had fallen.

For a minute she sat gazing at me and her eyes filled with tears.

"Do I look that way? Can every one I meet read what I am?" she asked tearfully.

I tried to evade her questioning, but she pressed for an answer. Then I told her that I was afraid her secret was only too plainly written.

"Why don't you give it up and go home?" I asked her.

She thought a minute and then answered that she couldn't.

"I'm not as bad as lots of the others," she said desperately. "I don't hope and long any more to become a great actress.

"I found there were so many more girls who were more accomplished than me. I couldn't get anything but a chorus part. I became discouraged and went out for good times. I had them, I guess."

When I asked her to go home and try to begin over again her anger was aroused. The company she had kept had left its mark on her.

"Say, now, don't hand me any of that religious talk," was her angry answer. "It's nothing to you why I don't go home. I've had good times and I am going to have more of them."

I talked to her for a few minutes, but soon found argument to be useless. We ate our dinner quietly and without further words. When I parted with her it seemed as though it were for the last time. I knew the end that was near at hand—the specter that was waiting for her.

It was three weeks later when I saw her again. There was a different setting for the scene than at our two other meetings.

The scene was laid in a cell room at the Harrison street police station. On an iron cot lay a young girl. She was in a maudlin condition from drugs. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Her face was discolored and bloated.

It was the same girl—the little innocent show girl of a year before.

She had been arrested in a raid by the police on the notorious Clark street opium dive of On Ling Lung. Lying in a dirty cot in the rear of the basement den, she had been found by the raiders. She was unconscious. On a little stand by her side had been a little alcohol lamp. On the bunk beside her lay an opium pipe.

I asked the sergeant the details of her arrest.

"The station stool pigeons who had been watching the place saw her go down into it about a week ago," said the sergeant. "A well dressed Chinaman was with her. She looked as though she was drunk.

"We wanted to get all of those opium smokers down there all at once, so we waited a week. I don't think she has eaten much since she went there. Just laid there and smoked.

"After they get a taste of the dreamy stuff they can't leave it alone. It's poison and it just goes all through them.

"You don't want to monkey with her," the sergeant admonished when I suggested that I would see that care would be given her. "She's gone now. She got the taste, and there's no use trying to break it. You couldn't. She'll get a couple of months down in the Bridewell and it'll straighten her up for a while, but she'll be back in a little while.

"No, sir, there's no use talking, when they once get a whiff of that dope they might as well jump in the lake. They're no good."

She was still lying in a stupor on the iron cot when I left the dingy cell room. In a couple of hours she would awaken, but only to go into a delirium.

As I left I could see a vision of the innocent girl of the year before, standing among the sceneries of the down-town theater, telling of her ambitions.

How far had her whole being retrograded from that day!

But she was only one of many—a victim of the stage.

Probably the greatest agency through which girls are lured is the fake "theatrical agency."

In Chicago there exists many of these clearing houses for the vice trust. Sumptuous offices are maintained in great office buildings down town. Large office forces are necessary to carry on the enormous business they conduct.

These concerns operate usually under a name similar to those of the legitimate and responsible theatrical agencies. Their advertisements usually appear in papers in small towns and cities. The police keep a close watch on them, but without result.

Few of the girls obtained by the slavers through these agencies are ruined in the city.

The "theatrical agency" slaver works in this manner:

He advertises in papers all over the country for girls "who wish to take up theatrical work." Even in the city papers he inserts ads disguised, but with the same meaning.

Large salaries are offered to beginners. Chances of advancement within a few months to parts in plays are held out. Offers are made to sign contracts for several years' duration.

Every girl must answer the advertisement in person. This is imperative.

Scores of girls do answer the ads. They usually range from 16 to 21 years in age. The majority of them come from families in only moderate circumstances.

They are received with every courtesy. If the girl is good looking, of good figure and a fair entertainer she is "accepted" by the fashionably dressed manager. If she is not up to these requirements she is told to come back.

When the girl signs the "contract" her fate is sealed. Great inducements are offered her.

She is told that she must join a road company traveling in the west, and which will perform in a city probably 100 or 150 miles away on a near date.

The girl, happy at her good fortune, is enthusiastic. She bids her family a fond good-bye, the last, probably.

The kiss she places fondly on her mother's brow is that of a person going to her grave. The laughing farewells she has with her young friends are the last. The homecoming within a few months' time is never to be realized.

The signing of her name to the contract is the signing of her death warrant—yes, even worse than that.

In that stroke of the pen she signs away her body to the slavers.

Happily, probably accompanied by a relative, she goes to the "theatrical agency" office to obtain her railroad ticket. There she is introduced to a stylishly dressed man. He is to accompany her and several other girls down to the city where they are to join the troupe, she is told.

The stylishly dressed man is, in reality, her guard. It is his duty to see that none of the girls escape their fate. He is to hand them over to the divekeepers for a sum ranging from $50 to $1,000 each, at the end of their journey.

Until the girls are handed over to the denkeepers they are treated with the utmost respect.

They go to their fate like innocent sheep to the slaughter pen.

Probably they are taken to the city where they were told they were going. Probably there is a "sudden change of plans" after the girls are at the depot. They are then taken to another city from the destination told their relatives and friends.

On the arrival at the end of their journey they are met by a woman. She is stylishly dressed and wears many beautiful diamonds. She is probably introduced as the "leading lady." She has taken a special interest in the new girls. She offers to show them about the city.

It is probably at dinner or while they sleep innocently that night, dreaming of their good fortune, that they are robbed of their senses. A handkerchief, wet with chloroform or ether, spread over their faces does the work. Or it may be a small powder dropped in their coffee.

Then comes the awful awakening.

The scene changes to a den of vice. The young girls awake in a darkened room. Each one is alone. All of her clothes have been taken from her. She is nude. Her head seems to be bursting. It is the after-effect of the drug.

As she begins to regain her faculties more fully she makes out the figure of a man in her room. As he sees her beginning to revive he comes towards her. She attempts to cover up her nude body. She struggles to free herself as he grabs hold of her. He laughs at her pitiable efforts to repulse him.

What matter it if she does resist him! She has been ruined while she lay unconscious under the influence of the drug!

The young girl, terrified and ill, is easily made a friend of by the woman who comes to her and offers her sympathy. She drinks of the "medicine" that is offered her. In a few minutes she is in a maudlin condition.

It is more "dope."

Under the influence of this drug she is a mark at the hands of the denkeepers. She is given whisky and liquor. As the effects of the drug die out she craves for more. Liquor is given in its stead.

For several weeks she may be kept in this state. She is maudlin and resents no liberties taken with her.

Then comes the awakening. When the divekeeper thinks she is sufficiently "broke in" she is refused liquor. She gradually becomes sober.

It is an awful awakening. The darkness of it all—the thought of her ruin drives her mad. She is watched carefully for days so that she can not harm herself. To forget the terrible things she is forced to do, she goes back to drink. Under its influence she is past knowing of her forced sins.

Her every hope is ruined. If she attempted to leave the place she would be beaten and imprisoned. The young girl is ashamed, anyway, to go home and confess the story of her "theatrical" career.

She stays behind and becomes one of them. In the little home, probably only a hundred miles away, a father and mother wait expectantly for her homecoming.

The wait is long, for she never returns. She has been swallowed up by the giant octopus, white slavery.

An example of this method of white slavery was recently exposed in the Chicago newspapers.

Two young girls, one 15 years old, the other 16, applied for positions at one of these "theatrical agencies." They were given positions in a "show" that was playing at Springfield, Illinois.

A big salary was guaranteed both of them. They were happy at their good luck. Both ran away from home to accept the positions. A man accompanied them to Springfield.

In a restaurant in the capital city of Illinois they were drugged. Poison was placed in their food. When they woke up they were in one of the lowest dives of the city, the "Big O" saloon and brothel.

In this place are kept fifty girls. The majority of them were obtained by a similar method. There is only one entrance to the floor on which the girls were confined. That door was to a stairway that connected the upper floor with the saloon. A man stood on guard to see that none of the girls escaped.

Three times the girls attempted to escape. In the last effort one of them was successful. The other two times the girls were beaten and starved when caught.

The girl who escaped made her way to a police station. She was garbed only in a short wrapper that reached barely to her knees. The remainder of her person was bare. Her clothes had been taken from her when she was taken to the place.

The police at once raided the place and rescued the other girl. The Chicago police were notified and returned both of them to their parents.

Both girls had been horribly treated. Every liberty that can be imagined had been taken with them. They had been forced to do acts beyond comprehension.

This is but one actual instance of the methods employed to lure girls to an awful fate, but it tells the story of hundreds.

This is but one method whereby the great slave mart of Chicago is kept in operation, sacrificing its thousands of girl to the demon lust.

The stage, with all its attractions, can be but the stepping stone to a life of shame, unless the girl is surrounded with every home protection.

It leads its victims a merry whirl, a gay, giddy time, while it lasts, but the end is always in sight.

The brothel flirts with the stage. It regards it as a needful source of supplies.

And the stage, fickle and flighty, lays its innocents on the altar.

Its sacrifice yearly in the great metropolis of the west is 1,000 victims a year.