96

The Buffalo Bill Combination has
come, and conquered, and gone - and
the small boy is filled with visions of
Indians and life in the Far West. The
Opera House, on Monday evening, was
crowded to its utmost seating capacity
- a $400 audience being present. The
drama of the "Prairie Waif" is a miserable
jumble of improbabilities, and
does not possess a single merit from a
critical stand-point. The acting was
in perfect harmony with the tone of
the play, being poor, trashy, and decidedly
tame. There was positively not a
single gleam of genius in the play nor
a spark of talent in the platers. It
was one rapid succession of Indian
war-whoops, hair-breath escapes, hand-
to-hand encounters, with plenty of
gun-powder, donkey, and bad acting as
sauce. The "Prairie Waif" is no more
than a wishy-washy dime novel dramatized
and poorly acted. But it serves its
purpose admirably: by its glitter,
and novelty, and wildness it is a big
catch and fills "Buffalo Bill's" pockets
with ducats. The street parade, with
"Bill," a good band, six Indians, and a
bedizened donkey, was quite clever,
and decidedly "catchy." "Buffalo's"
rifle shooting was really marvelous -
and this was the only truly good feature
of the show.