TWO ON THE AISLE

The decline in patronage of the American theatre, especially that part of it located under the white lights of Broadway, during the last year has aroused the business acumen of the various producers in an attempt to perpetrate another bullish market of this particular art. Casting wildly about for the underlying influence causing the apathy of a public whose rudeness to most of the offerings of the season is now proverbial, they have finally hit upon, and at, the ticket speculators. The process of the latter in creating a corner on the best seats in the house was at one time peculiarly suited to the dramatists' estimate of the ingredents of good business judgment. Their opportunity to sell an imposing block of seats to one purchaser for the whole season naturally produced a faster turnover.

All that is changed. With a keen eye on the ever abiding equation of supply and demand the magnates have chosen the monopolists of the box-office as the first scapegoat of 1930. The amusing foibles of the price war in Gotham are merely a concession to adverse business conditions. As a result of the new sliding scale the gallery gods may now descend to the dignity of the pit. The Glorified Girl is at last priced as an economic necessity.