169

THE DRAMA.
NIBLO'S GARDEN - THE SCOUTS OF THE PRAIRIE.
In Niblo's Garden, last night, an assemblage of about 4,000 persons beheld a spectacle which is mildly and feebly characterized as extraordinary. The occasion was that of the first performance in this city of a dramatic work called “The Scouts of the Prairie;" and, for our own poor part, it gave us wonder great as our delight to see this representation. What it gave to the audience, in general, conjecture struggles to determine. The multitude, which was rather a soarse one, hailed it with frequent noise, and seemed especially rejoiced at those portions wherein guns were shot off and gore was started. Those supreme moments occurred with sufficient frequency to keep the theater in a tumult, and, if that means success, the display was successful. To speak of it seriously is very difficult; to speak of it patiently is impossible. The play of “The Scouts of the Prairie '' is idiotic; the action that gave it illustration is tomfoolery: there was but one person of the stage- Mr. George C. Davenport - who possesses a particle of talent for acting, and the stuff allotted to his interpretation in mere folly. It is not a play. However, that this remarkable exhibition has been brought forward. It comes as a medium for the presentation of two persons - Mr. Cody and Mr. Omohundro, otherwise known as Buffalo Bull and Texas Jack - who are understood to have once been trappers, or hunters or something of that kind, on the prairies of the South West. These two young men movie about the stage with supple strides, and manifested strength; agility and good humor. They have, it appears, been blessed with fine physical constitutions, and, ad driver of the peaceful night omnibus we should say they might attain a lofty eminence. Mr. Cody, the Buffalo Bill, discharged pistols in a very liberal way and, at times, when surrounded with defunct Indians, and standing stalwart In a cloud of smoke and dust, through which the yelps of the supers sounded in hideous discord, he was sublime, The dramatic business in which he was engaged contemplated the rescue of a hunter from the outshops of a Mormons, and the incidental killing of all the savage willing gun-shot distance. Mr. Ned Buntline, the author of the conception, delivered some options on the use of liquor, which he said was injurious and had done a great deal of harm. A reference to Father Mathew rendered this ebullition quite thrilling, Mr., Buntline was several times captured and bound, but he's continued to preach, and he contrived to escape from bondage, the stake, and all perils else, till happily the end of the second net,-he was slain. Mr. Buntline seemed, in a vague, far-off way, to be aping the really, grand portraiture of Pathfinder, is Cooper's well-known novel. If he has any sense at all, which seems doubtful, this gentleman must be aware that his pretensions as a play - writer are ridiculous. The managers of Niblo's (Garden have produced his "realism" because they believe that it will pay-and so it with, if audacious nose use, so absolute as to be really magnificent, chances to produce upon the public mind the effect of novelty. They have put it upon the stage in carefully constructed attire and have advertised it with their customary skill. Mile Morlacchi, a peerless dancer, but very absurd as an actress, played an Indian girl, last night, and was laughed at, as she deserved to be, The Hon. Mr. Cody, called out at the end of the first act, made a short speech, full of boyish candor. To dwell upon details would be idle - since the whole subject is worse than trivial, and since those who are responsible for this [?] use of a beautiful stage and one of the most delightful theaters in the country may be grateful to see it in universal laughter.

THE DRAMA.
NIBLO'S GARDEN - THE SCOUTS OF THE PRAIRIE.
In Niblo's Garden, last night, an assemblage of about 4,000 persons beheld a spectacle which is mildly and feebly characterized as extraordinary. The occasion was that of the first performance in this city of a dramatic work called “The Scouts of the Prairie;" and, for our own poor part, it gave us wonder great as our delight to see this representation. What it gave to the audience, in general, conjecture struggles to determine. The multitude, which was rather a soarse one, hailed it with frequent noise, and seemed especially rejoiced at those portions wherein guns were shot off and gore was started. Those supreme moments occurred with sufficient frequency to keep the theater in a tumult, and, if that means success, the display was successful. To speak of it seriously is very difficult; to speak of it patiently is impossible. The play of “The Scouts of the Prairie '' is idiotic; the action that gave it illustration is tomfoolery: there was but one person of the stage- Mr. George C. Davenport - who possesses a particle of talent for acting, and the stuff allotted to his interpretation in mere folly. It is not a play. However, that this remarkable exhibition has been brought forward. It comes as a medium for the presentation of two persons - Mr. Cody and Mr. Omohundro, otherwise known as Buffalo Bull and Texas Jack - who are understood to have once been trappers, or hunters or something of that kind, on the prairies of the South West. These two young men movie about the stage with supple strides, and manifested strength; agility and good humor. They have, it appears, been blessed with fine physical constitutions, and, ad driver of the peaceful night omnibus we should say they might attain a lofty eminence. Mr. Cody, the Buffalo Bill, discharged pistols in a very liberal way and, at times, when surrounded with defunct Indians, and standing stalwart In a cloud of smoke and dust, through which the yelps of the supers sounded in hideous discord, he was sublime, The dramatic business in which he was engaged contemplated the rescue of a hunter from the outshops of a Mormons, and the incidental killing of all the savage willing gun-shot distance. Mr. Ned Buntline, the author of the conception, delivered some options on the use of liquor, which he said was injurious and had done a great deal of harm. A reference to Father Mathew rendered this ebullition quite thrilling, Mr., Buntline was several times captured and bound, but he's continued to preach, and he contrived to escape from bondage, the stake, and all perils else, till happily the end of the second net,-he was slain. Mr. Buntline seemed, in a vague, far-off way, to be aping the really, grand portraiture of Pathfinder, is Cooper's well-known novel. If he has any sense at all, which seems doubtful, this gentleman must be aware that his pretensions as a play - writer are ridiculous. The managers of Niblo's (Garden have produced his "realism" because they believe that it will pay-and so it with, if audacious nose use, so absolute as to be really magnificent, chances to produce upon the public mind the effect of novelty. They have put it upon the stage in carefully constructed attire and have advertised it with their customary skill. Mile Morlacchi, a peerless dancer, but very absurd as an actress, played an Indian girl, last night, and was laughed at, as she deserved to be, The Hon. Mr. Cody, called out at the end of the first act, made a short speech, full of boyish candor. To dwell upon details would be idle - since the whole subject is worse than trivial, and since those who are responsible for this [?] use of a beautiful stage and one of the most delightful theaters in the country may be grateful to see it in universal laughter.