Vaudeville is intrinsically episodic and discontinuous. Its audiences do not demand dénoûements. Sufficient unto each "turn" is the evil thereof. No one cares how many romances the singing comédienne may have had if she can capably sustain the limelight and a high note or two. The audiences reck not if the performing dogs get to the pound the moment they have jumped through their last . They do not desire bulletins about the possible injuries received by the comic bicyclist who retires head-first from the stage in a crash of (property) china-ware. Neither do they consider that their seat entitle them to be instructed whether or no there is a sentiment between the lady solo banjoist and the Irish .  
Therefore let us have no lifting of the curtain upon a of the united lovers, backgrounded by defeated villainy and derogated by the comic, osculating maid and butler, thrown in as a to the Cerberi of the fifty-cent seats.
 
But our programme ends with a brief "turn" or two; and then to the exits. Whoever sits the show out may find, if he will, the slender thread that together, though ever so slightly, the story that, perhaps, only the will understand.
 
 
Extracts from a letter from the first vice-president of the Republic Insurance Company, of New York City, to Frank Goodwin, of Coralio, Republic of Anchuria.
 
 
My Dear Mr. Goodwin:—Your communication per Messrs. Howland and Fourchet, of New Orleans, has reached us. Also their draft on N. Y. for $100,000, the amount abstracted from the funds of this company by the late J. Churchill Wahrfield, its former president. … The officers and directors unite in requesting me to express to you their sincere and thanks for your prompt and much appreciated return of the entire missing sum within two weeks from the time of its . … Can assure you that the matter will not be allowed to receive the least . … Regret exceedingly the death of Mr. Wahrfield by his own hand, but… Congratulations on your marriage to Miss Wahrfield … many charms, winning manners, noble and womanly nature and envied position in the best society…
 
Cordially yours,
 
Lucius E. Applegate,
First Vice-President
the Republic Insurance Company.
 
 
 
The Vitagraphoscope
(Moving Pictures)
The Last Sausage
SCENE—An Artist's Studio. The artist, a young man of prepossessing appearance, sits in a dejected attitude, amid a litter of , with his head resting upon his hand. An oil stove stands on a pine box in the centre of the studio. The artist rises, his waist belt to another hole, and lights the stove. He goes to a tin bread box, half-hidden by a screen, takes out a link of sausage, turns the box upside-down to show that there is no more, and chucks the sausage into a frying............