TO EVERY STRANGER IN NEW YORK, AND HIS LADY

If you are not otherwise engaged on Christmas night, the honor of
your presence at Madison Square Garden is requested by

DAVID AUSTIN CROCKETT

_Colonel Fifth Texas Cavalry, C. S. A._

Music, Dancing, Refreshments, Souvenirs. For the purpose of keeping
out the undesirable element a charge of $1.00 will be made.

I knew that them magic words, "Refreshments" and "Souvenirs," would hit
'em hard. In order to whet the public interest, I asked the papers where
I advertised to give the thing some editorial or other reference. But
they was very cold and said the best they could do was to send their
dramatic critics to criticise the show afterward. A lot of good that
would do me! So I took more space in advertising.

In a day or two I was visited at the hotel by one of the most imperent
young fellows I ever met up with. He sent up a card, "_James J. James,
Publicity Expert._" I said to show him in, and he sort of oozed through
the door--he was that oily. He looked about to see if we was alone; then
winked slow and important, and says:

"What's your game, Colonel? It looks pretty slick, but I can't quite
make it out. It's a new bunco, all right, but slick as it looks, it
ain't quite so slick as it ought to be."

"Look here, you cub," I roared, "if you imply that I have any evil
motives in this, I'll shoot you so full of holes you'll look like a
mosquito net!"

He wasn't a bit scared; he simply winked the other eye, and said in a
kind of foreign-sounding language:

"Forget it, Colonel! Cut it out! Back to the alfalfa with your Buffalo
Bill vocabulary! If you are really on the level, you don't need to prove
it with artillery. But it makes no diff. to me about that. My business
is producing fame, not merit. Once more I ask, what's your lay?"

[Illustration: JAMES J. JAMES, PUBLICITY EXPERT]

I overcame a desire to kick him through the ceiling, and told him I
proposed to entertain the strangers in New York.

"Strangers in New York?--Why, that means everybody! There's been only
one man born in New York since the war, and he's kept in alcohol at a
dime muzhum. Your idea is really to give old New York a Christmas party,
eh? Very pretty! Very pretty, indeed! But if you insist on exploding
money all over the place, I don't see why you shouldn't get a run for
it. Besides, I need a bit of it myself. What you want is a press agent.
You're startin