Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Richard Corben: Dogs



"I'm a dog person," says Richard Corben.  "I relate to dogs much more than to cats.  In fact, that's why I've written many of my stories to dogs and wolves -- THE BEAST OF WOLFTON, as well as ROWLF."

Like a lot of great artists, Corben began scribbling just as soon as his tiny little fist was able to clutch a crayon.  "I started drawing long before I could read and write.  I was always interested in storytelling with my artwork.  My elder brother had comic books which I traced and copied the characters out of.  The only ones I can remember are Superman, Tarzan and Mickey Mouse."

Dogs began appearing in Corben's own comics early on -- very early on, when he was about 8 years old: "My first original comic strip was centered around my family's pet dog, Trail.  About eight large issues of Trail Comics were produced before I went on to other things."

Corben says he "wrote and drew all kinds of fantastic adventures for him."  (Note that he says "for him" rather than "about him".)  Corben still has some of his Trail comics.


Despite an early interest in comic books, Corben didn't get into the game until the late 1960s, while employed at the Calvin Company, which produced industrial films in Kansas City, Missouri.  Corben worked in the animation department, and was already pushing 30.  His first published comic work, the 10-page Monsters Rule, was serialized in 1968 in various issues of the fanzine, VOICE OF COMICDOM, published by Rudi Franke, followed by Tales From the Plague, all 32 pages appearing in another fanzine, WEIRDOM ILLUSTRATED.

Laural-Li (and friend), horror hostess for WEIRDOM #13 (April 1969), introducing "Tales From the Plague", an early Corben comic written by WEIRDOM's publisher, Dennis Cunningham

Corben began working on The Story of Rowlf, about a dog turned into a dog-man, around 1967 or '68.  "Rowlf was first conceived a couple of years ago not as a comic story but as a film.  After several futile attempts at producing it, we gave it up for another script.  After Monsters Rule was finished, I was looking for a story to appear in VOICE OF COMICDOM and I remembered Rowlf.  I gave this much thought and finally decided that I could do the story justice in the comic strip medium.  Much preliminary work had already been done.  This became very useful when adapting it to the comic strip.  Several models of the characters had been built.  These were now used to draw from...It is difficult to say how much actual drawing time was spent on the final pages.  I occasionally did two or three pages a week working evenings and weekends, but I didn't work on it constantly."  "Rowlf," says Corben, "was done over a period of a couple of years.  Normally, I don't like to stretch a story that length of time..."


The first half of Rowlf was published in VOICE OF COMICDOM #16, in the winter of 1970, and the second half in #17, the summer of the following year.  It was worth the wait.  Corben's line art on Rowlf remains his most detailed and exquisite, a great achievement in comics.


Maryara goes skinny dipping in "Rowlf".  Corben, famous for his large-breasted maidens, says he "wasn't interested in PLAYBOY or OUI."  However, this illustration used a photo of Playboy bunny Jackie Brown, from the October 1965 edition of PLAYBOY, as reference.   No doubt he picked it up at the newsstand for the long, insightful article, "The Great Comic-Book Heroes", by Jules Feiffer.  Aside from occasionally using photos of people for reference, Corben also crafted countless clay models of his characters, which could be photographed from a variety of angles, and with different light sources.

The story takes place in the seemingly Medieval kingdom of Canisland, where Rowlf is devoted to his mistress Maryara, and hostile towards her suitor, Raymon.  The nubile young princess, however, has little interest in Raymon, prefering to gambol in the woods with her faithful dog.  It is during one such outting that Maryara is kidnapped by the gremlin-faced Gorgrum, the Esperanto-speaking "demon king", and his squad of soldiers, complete with tanks, guns, grenades and bazookas.  Rowlf is unable to rescue her, and runs home to seek help from Raymon and the wizard, Sortrum.  Unable to figure out Rowlf's barking and excited manner, Sortrum attempts to change the dog into a human so he could simply tell them.  The spell is botched by Raymon's interruption when he spies tanks rolling towards the castle; as a result, Rowlf is only partially changed, sporting his own head and tail on the body of a man.  The castle is destroyed by the war machines, but Rowlf escapes unharmed, and waits till nightfall to attack the demons with their own weapons.  He follows the surviving troops, still licking their wounds, back to their island, where the demon king's triumphant return with his royal prize is celebrated.  During the festivities, Rowlf rescues Maryara (astonished by his transformation), killing Gorgrum and inadvertently blowing up the island.  They return in a tank, but unwilling to be changed back into a dog and left to the mercy of Raymon, Rowlf drives off with Maryara.


Back cover of VOICE OF COMICDOM #17 (Summer 1970), with panels coloured by Corben, taken from that issue's story, "Rowlf"

The Story of Rowlf was almost immediately reprinted as ROWLF, published by the Rip Off Press, an underground comics publisher located in San Francisco.  It went through two editions and sold some 20,000 copies.

The two-part "Rowlf" comic was collected and reprinted by the Rip Off Press in 1971, featuring this new cover by Corben.  Their 2nd edition had a different cover, seen at the top of this page

In 1970, Corben published FANTAGOR #1, a large (8 1/2" x 11"), slick comic with a black and white interior, sturdy colour covers, and high quality printing.  It was paid for in part by selling two posters, which he made available at comic conventions and through ads in ROCKET'S BLAST/COMICOLLECTOR.  The 1000 copy print run sold poorly and he lost money on the venture.  "I sold around 500 books...I felt crushed.  I went into a depression and realised I'd never get rid of those fanzines unless I cut my prices drastically and sell to the dealers.  I did this, and the remaining FANTAGORs were all gone within two weeks.  I held onto a few copies just for sentimental reasons."  The $1.50 cover price was probably a deterrent for those used to paying 50 cents for the average underground comic.  (Incidentally, the first issue featured a story called "Twilight of the Dogs" -- but there are no dogs in it.)

Corben contributed two werewolf drawings to a fanzine called EPIC (#11, August 1970), formerly titled FANTASY NEWS.  One was of Henry Hull from the 1935 movie, WEREWOLF OF LONDON; the other was Lon Chaney, Jr. as the Wolf Man, from the 1941 movie.

Corben did dozens of illustrations of classic horror monsters, mostly of the Universal and Hammer variety, copied from photographs, most of which appeared in the fanzine, PHOTON.  Here, it seems that Lon Chaney, Jr. as the Wolf Man doesn't quite know what to do with the lovely Evelyn Ankers

Corben joined the burgeoning underground comics movement, writing and drawing stories for titles such as SLOW DEATH, SKULL, ANOMALY, and one shots such as FEVER DREAMS and UP FROM THE DEEP; he also continued his own FANTAGOR and GRIM WIT titles, published by others.  He sometimes used the pseudonyms "Gore" (inspired by his favourite EC horror comics artist of the early 1950s, Graham Ingells, who signed his name "Ghastly"), and "Harvey Sea" (from his initials, RVC).

WEIRDOM #14 (1971) contained a short werewolf tale by Corben called Dead Hill.  Drawn in the late 1960s in a crude style reminiscent of old woodblock printing, it might be Corben's earliest werewolf comic.


Corben's GRIM WIT #1 came out in 1972, published by the Rip Off Press (and reprinted by Last Gasp).  This first issue featured another major werewolf work, The Beast of Wolfton.  Though the wonderful artwork isn't as detailed as Rowlf, Corben's shading technique gives the drawings an extra dimension.  Says Corben, "The story is one that I wrote way back in art school.  I handed it in as an extra project to my creative writing teacher..."

GRIM WIT #1 (1972) featured "The Beast of Wolfton", the saga of an underdog turned into a werewolf through sorcery.  Corben opted for the Henry Hull look, as he appeared in the movie, WEREWOLF OF LONDON (1935)

Brave knight Sir John of Lasiter travels with his wife Ellen to Wolfton (originally Wulv), a village beset by a wild animal that leaves mangled corpses.  Sir John offers his services to the local baron, promising to slay the beast in exchange for a fair reward.  His attempts are thwarted by the beast, a man transformed by sorcery into a werewolf-like monster to avenge his people, the Krind, who were exterminated by Saxon invaders.  The beast kidnaps Lady Ellen, to draw Sir John into the woods, where he and his posse are slain one by one.  Ellen, aware that the beast's condition can only be cured by the willing love of a woman, offers herself to him.  After climaxing, the beast returns to his human state, at which point Ellen beheads him with an axe.


In 1970 Corben made the leap from fanzines and undergrounds into the world of professional publications, and his canine friends followed him.  Corben, a fan of the horror genre, had been sending samples of his comic art to James Warren, publisher of EERIE and CREEPY (and, later, VAMPIRELLA), since the mid-1960s.  In fact, some of his non-comic work first appeared in another of Warren's mags, FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND, in issue #35 (October 1965), although the article it apeared in was actually about a lady named Madona Marchand, who won Warren's amateur film making contest for a movie called SIEGFRIED SAVES METROPOLIS, the prize being a miniature Sony television.  While the article was being put together, her name changed to Madona Corben, as she'd married her cameraman, "Dick" Corben, who also helped fashion the balsa wood and clay models used in the movie.

Corben's next appearance was on the Fan Fare page of EERIE #16 (July 1968), with a couple of illustrations from an unpublished comic.  (Apparently, he wasn't even a member of the Eerie fan club, as Cousin Eerie resentfully identified him as member #2222 of the Creepy fan club!)

Corben finally had a comic, Frozen Beauty, published in Warren's CREEPY #36 (November 1970), followed by some memorable covers.  It was the beginning of a long relationship, and soon Corben quit his job at Calvin and began supporting his wife and daughter through what was becoming a lucrative career in comics.

The Slipped Mickey Click-Flip, appearing in CREEPY #54 (July 1973), written by Doug Moench, contains little interior logic.  The host, Mr. Diment, breaks the fourth wall, not only by tearing away at the panel borders, but by being an integral part of the story, even as he presents it.

Mr. Diment possesses a homemade device he calls a "click-lick", which he uses to get revenge upon psychiatrist Dr. Nugent, for trying to cure him!  (Mr. Diment revels in his insanity.)  The click-lick is capable of turning the most bizarre idea into nightmarish reality.  An asphalt highway rips up from the ground, writhing like a snake, causing Nugent's car to veer off the road.  Monstrous butterflies attack, tearing out one of his eyes.  He runs home to his wife, only to find worms spilling out of her.  Finally, he collapses on the lawn, where a cartoonish train runs over his head.  But Nugent's reality isn't his wife's reality.  And Diment kills her, too, by having the television set bite off her head.  The former recreational facility then stalks the family dog, which flees outdoors.  The easily-distracted pet finds Nugent's skeleton.  He tears away a bone, and, during his attempt to bury it, the bone comes alive and pulls the dog into the hole with it, and buries them both.  (Incidentally, Doug Moench used a similar train in one of the more whacked out stories in the excellent MASTER OF KUNG FU series he produced with artist Paul Gulacy.)


Lycanklutz, from CREEPY #56 (September 1973) featured some beautiful colours by Corben.  Warren had only recently introduced 8-page colour inserts in their mags, and Corben took full advantage, producing many during his tenure with the company.

"The first colour one was Lycanklutz, which is a takeoff on THE WOLF MAN. It was inspired by the horror movie," says Corben, though he admits that "to make it more related to the earlier ones it should have been done in black and white."

In Lycanklutz, a werewolf is terrorizing a medieval village, and an inventive old coot named Lawrence Cardiff (resembling Leonardo da Vinci) believes he has a solution to the problem: a silver-fanged flea, on sale for only $499.95.


Obviously, Lycanklutz is a comedy, and Corben even found a rhyme for "lycanthrope", which he stresses in Cardiff's dialogue when he's setting up a trap for the werewolf: "After the moon rises, I can hope the ly-can-thrope will pass near..."

It bears little resemblance to the 1941 Universal movie, though the names Lawrence Cardiff and Baron Talbot are clearly referencing Larry Talbot, Lon Chaney's character in THE WOLF MAN.  Also, Cardiff recites screenwriter Curt Siodmak's poem from the movie:

"Even a man who is pure of heart
and says his prayers by night
may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms
and the autumn moon is bright."


Another tongue-in-cheek werewolf story followed, Change...Into Something Comfortable, in CREEPY #58 (December 1973), written by Moench.  In this one, a werewolf discovers, to his regret, that he ain't the only monster in town.


The Hero Within, from CREEPY #60 (February 1974), is painfully Dickensian, with a small orphan boy, Lucien, left to the care of a cruel mistress.  His parents had been killed by a pack of wild dogs, and we can't even get past the second page without the matriarch's young daughter, Priscilla, tormenting the boy by sicking her large, vicious dog on him.  Lucien is banished to the dark, dank cellar for being unfriendly.  There he finds a roughly doughnut-shaped rock and begins to imagine that it has magical properties.  Suddenly, he's been transformed into a muscular caveman with a bat-like face, and the dog into a dinosaur, frightened of him now.  Exploring the rocky desert landscape, this new Lucien saves a busty blonde from two bat-winged rat men, using their own spears against them.  He soon finds himself face to face with the dinosaur again, and takes out one of its eyes with his spear, but the magic rock, which hung from a string around his neck, is torn away, and Lucien immediately finds himself back in the cellar, unable to find the lost stone.  The dog has also found its way into the cellar, and the story ends with Lucien being attacked by the savage beast, blood streaming from its gaping eye socket.

A sadistic little girl exploits Lucien's fear of dogs, in a scene from "The Hero Within", Corben's colour insert for CREEPY #60 (February 1974)

Corben's third werewolf effort at Warren, in EERIE #56 (April 1974), was even more preposterous than the previous two.  Wizard Wagstaff, written by Jack Butterworth, tells the story of Albert Tusk, owner of a dog food company, who becomes a werewolf after being bitten by a poodle while filming a commercial for Tusk Doggy Dinners.  "What idiot put pants on that dog?" one drunk grumbles to another when the werewolf is spotted in an alley outside a saloon.  Fortunately, Albert the werewolf finds someone who can help him, Mr. Wagstaff, a wizard, but the magic formula requires a spoonful of sweat from the poor, and when the two make an excursion to acquire the ingredient, they run into a bigger, fiercer werewolf.

No one seems to take much notice of the werewolves walking around town in the cartoonish "Wizard Wagstaff", from EERIE #56 (April 1974)

One thing's for sure: this must be the only story in the entire Warren catalogue where no one is harmed in any way, aside from being bitten by a poodle.

That same month in CREEPY #61, Corben did a parody of another of the Universal monsters, the Mummy.  Three archaeologists, Sandy, Jack and Doc, find the tomb of Khartuka, but they're more interested in the whispered legend of a great treasure buried there, which they're determined to find with the help of their dog, Snoofer, who understands commands better when a gun is pointed at him.  Accompanying the explorers are two local guides, Worma and Hardoff Bey (a sort of Egyptian Abbott and Costello), whose true mission is to prevent the outsiders from defiling the tomb of Khartuka.  They do that by raising Khartuka, though they can't quite remember if the recipe for the potion calls for nine nina leaves, eleven leben leaves, or orange pekoe.  But they manage to revive the ancient king, who beholds Sandy in a queen's headdress (they'd found the treasure and were in the process of carting it away), and, excited by the beautiful maiden, goes shambling after her.  He trips and falls on his face, and the three unwary explorers stumble over him, falling into a great abyss to their doom, as do Worma and Hardoff Bey.  But Khartuka's triumph is short-lived when Snoofer latches onto his leg, which is just another bone to the dog.

Corben has always been a master of caricature: In this scene from "Terror Tomb" (CREEPY #61, April 1974), old Doc is shuffling along, arms weighing him down, shoulders drooping; Jack is full of vim and vigour, chest thrust out with determination and optimism; Sandy is young, robust, proud.  Her ample breasts are conspicuous, a Corben trademark, but he insists the exaggeration is practical: "To differentiate them from the men, of course."

The title of the story, Terror Tomb, is a pun on Terrytoons, the animation studio founded by Paul Terry, famous for Mighty Mouse and Heckle and Jeckle.  Corben says the Mummy never frightened him as a kid.  "He sort of shuffles along, and it's not very likely anybody would be caught unless they just fell down and fainted."

Bowser, in VAMPIRELLA #54 (September 1976), written by frequent collaborator Jan Strnad, isn't exactly a dog, though the clever setup (ruined by the first two pages being printed in reverse order) convinces the reader otherwise -- until the dog is eaten by the actual Bowser, a blobby, tentacled creature kept as a pet by an otherwise normal looking family.


Bowser had originally been scheduled for CREEPY #67 (December 1974), and that issue's cover by Ken Kelly depicted Bowser, but, for whatever reason, the story wasn't printed until almost two years later.  Instead, Corben's adaptation of Poe's The Raven appeared.

Corben's work at Warren and in the undergrounds was getting him noticed, and he was in demand.  He started working in other fields, illustrating science fiction book covers; a newer movie poster at the beginning of 1975 for PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE (1974), to help stir up box office interest (this second campaign was more successful); a few record covers, most notably Meatloaf's BAT OUT OF HELL (1977), which he shipped off only two days after receiving the commission over the phone; portfolios, which were all the rage; and the hardbound graphic novel, BLOODSTAR (The Morning Star Press, 1976), an adaptation of Robert E. Howard's story, The Valley of the Worm (from WEIRD TALES, February 1934), written by John Jakes, and rewritten by Corben (and re-rewritten(!) by John Pocsik when it was reprinted by Ariel Books in 1979).

Original artwork for the cover of EERIE #86 (September 1977), done in black and grey oils.  The all-Corben issue was comprised of reprints, including "Change...Into Something Comfortable", depicted here

Corben had a large European following, and France's Les Humanoid Associes ("United Humanoids": comics creators Jean-Pierre Dionnet, Philippe Druillet, Moebius, and businessman Bernard Farkas) offered a spot in their slick new magazine, METAL HURLANT, which debuted December 1974.  The National Lampoon began publishing an American edition in April 1977, which catapulted Corben to comic book stardom.  "Probably more people saw my work in HEAVY METAL than anywhere else," says Corben.  "And they paid much better rates."

Dogs have a small but profound role in Strnad and Corben's New Tales of the Arabian Nights, which appeared in HEAVY METAL from June 1978 to July 1979 (subsequently published in book form).


In the epic tale, Shahrazad tells her sister Dunyazad of the eighth voyage of Sindbad, one which she hadn't told the king.  The story begins with an older, bitter Sindbad experiencing marital difficulties.  While chasing after a woman believed to be a prostitute through alleys during a night of debauchery, he trips over a dog, which he kicks to death in his drunken rage.  Lost and staggering, he's confronted by a monstrous jinni, Al-Ra'ad Al-Kasif, who informs Sindbad that the dog was the jinni's wife in disguise, and vowed that he would let the fallen hero live, but slay his wife Zulaykha in turn.  Sindbad rushes home to find a flaming ruin, and Al-Ra'ad enraged that he can't locate Zulaykha.  Sindbad tells Al-Ra'ad that he's hidden her, but in fact is baffled by her mysterious disappearance.  Sindbad begins a new voyage to the Land of the Jinn to seek audience with Zu'l Janahayn, King of all Kings of the Jinn, to beg pardon for offending Al-Ra'ad Al-Kasif.  A dog accompanying his caravan teaches Sindbad humility and love, and though this point is downplayed it is significant to the outcome of the story.


Concurrent with New Tales of the Arabian Nights, Coben and Strnad also produced the post-apocalyptic Mutant World, which ran in eight parts in Warren's new magazine, 1984, from June 1978 to September 1979.  All manner of mutated creatures abound, including an eight-legged dog that attacks the story's hapless, dim-witted protagonist, Dimento.


The Spirit of the Beast, a brief sequel to The Beast of Wolfton, appeared in HEAVY METAL's May 1980 issue.  The concluding paragraph in The Beast of Wolfton tells that the Lady Ellen was discovered in the forest "utterly insane" and cared for by nuns in a convent, where she gave birth to a "very strange child."  That strange child is Jon Wulv, the subject of Spirit of the Beast, who has inherited his father's lycanthropy.  The short story is merely an interlude, and in fact has more to do with a girl who is intimated to be a cannibal than it has with developing the character of Jon Wulv.


Corben claims that Rowlf, The Beast of Wolfton, and Spirit of the Beast were originally intended as a trilogy.  There's no good reason to believe this is so.  Rowlf was reprinted (in colour) in HEAVY METAL in three parts, November 1979 to January 1980.  The Beast of Wolfton followed, reprinted in the February and March 1980 issues, also in colour, and with some minor changes made by Corben.  Lady Ellen became Lady Chabita, Sir John of Lasiter became Sir Hornib of Murond, the Saxons became Stygorans, Britain became Canisland, etc., all to "bring it more into a realm of fantasy," says Corben.  The only link between Rowlf and The Beast of Wolfton and its sequel were a few nouns later altered by Corben to create that link.

Roda and the Wolf, from the February 1984 issue of HEAVY METAL, is a re-telling of the Little Red Riding Hood tale.  With little dialogue (in Pig Latin), the story begins with Roda about to be sacrificed to a werewolf by a primitive tribe.  She escapes, and flees to an old lady's house, where she's welcomed.  The old lady, Grinda, begins turning into a werewolf as Roda comments on her grotesquely changing eyes, ears, nose and teeth.  Fully transformed, Grinda is about to kill the girl when the men that had been pursuing her burst in.  They're torn apart, but the distraction allows Roda to disembowel the monster, revealing a partially digested Grinda inside.  (It's unclear whether or not Grinda is Roda's grandmother.)


Some of Corben's werewolf material was reprinted by Catalan Communications in the book, WEREWOLF (1984).  The all-Corben hardcover included a story not previously published called Fur Trade, a period piece written by John Pocsik, another frequent Corben collaborator, who usually wrote under the pseudonym "Simon Revelstroke".


Corben and writer Harlan Ellison had been promising an illustrated version of A Boy and His Dog since the early 1970s, but it was to remain elusive for many years.

Ellison's short post-apocalyptic story about a boy, Vic, and his telepathic dog, Blood, first appeared in the April 1969 edition of the science fiction magazine, NEW WORLDS, and was revised later the same year for Ellison's short story collection, THE BEAST THAT SHOUTED LOVE AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD.

About the comic book version of A Boy and His Dog, Corben said in a 1973 interview, "There's been some delay.  It's been brewing ever since last summer, I guess.  Then finally in December or January Harlan Ellison called me, I agreed it would be a good story and we should try to do it, and so we went ahead.  He sent me a new beginning which he wanted in the comic version and I did the adaptation and did the pencils in the month of February.  That was a tight schedule.  Harlan wanted to look at character sketches and pencils, if possible, so I sent those the second week in February and so far he hasn't gotten to going over it."

Corben had high hopes: he said it would be a high quality collectors' edition, followed by an underground reprint in colour, "so even the collectors will have to get both of them."  It never came to fruition.

Corben, during his ass-kicking, karate-chopping, wood-chopping, bodybuilding, ex-army guy phase

Eggsucker, a prequel to A Boy and His Dog, appeared in ARIEL: THE BOOK OF FANTASY #2 (1977), with two illustrations by Corben (or rather, one illustration broken in two).

When NEW TALES OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS was published as a book in 1979, Harlan Ellison wrote the introduction (dated April 1979), in which he said, "I have known Richard Corben's work for many years now.  (In fact, Richard will kill me for taking time out to write this introduction when I should be going over his rough sketches for the illustrated version of A Boy and His Dog which we've been working on for five years now."


Corben confirmed this a while later in his HEAVY METAL interview: "That's one of the projects that never did quite make it.  He's got my breakdown pages still buried on his desk somewhere.  So the world has got to wait."  He also said that Ellison was working on another story called Blood's a Rover, "so they are going to be published all together. I did the cover and about fifteen interior illustrations."

Blood's a Rover never materialised, but a sequel to A Boy and His Dog, called Run, Spot, Run, appeared in AMAZING SCIENCE FICTION's January 1981 issue.

Anyway, the world waited until 1987 for the comic book version, when Jan Strnad's Mad Dog Graphics imprint finally published all three stories as VIC AND BLOOD.

 The first issue (October 1987), adapted Eggsucker and the first part of A Boy and His Dog, while the second issue (February 1988) adapted the second half, plus Run, Spot, Run.

Original artwork for the wraparound cover of VIC AND BLOOD #1 (October 1987)

VIC AND BLOOD: THE CONTINUING ADVENTURES OF A BOY AND HIS DOG, was released in 2003.  This "definitive" version contained the comic book version, and Ellison's original text stories, including the illustrations Corben had done decades earlier, as well as the Eggsucker painting from ARIEL.

Through his own Fantagor Press, Corben ran a third Den series in the late 1980s, simply titled DEN, and the tenth issue (1989) featured an unpleasant anthropomorphic dog with a machine gun calling itself "Hairy Kopok".

The first issue of Strnad and Corben's 5-issue SON OF MUTANT WORLD (published in 1990 by Fantagor Press), contained a mangy-looking mutated mutt with three eyes, one of them red.  The title of the series was meant to be a humorous misnomer, the star of this sequel being Dimento's orphaned daughter, Dimentia.


A money-grubbing preacher and his acolyte make their way by bus to the tiny little town of Angel Falls (get it?), in Wolf Girl Eats, a short story by Bruce Jones and Corben, which appeared in the first issue of DC comics' horror anthology series, FLINCH (December 1999).  Wolf Girl Eats is actually the name of a diner, but which is named after the town's hidden attraction, a wild girl said to be raised by wolves.  Not surprisingly, greed and lust become the preacher's undoing, and in the end he's torn apart by a bear and some wolves.

In 2000, Corben and Simon Revelstroke did an adaptation of William Hope Hodgson's 1908 weird horror novel, THE HOUSE ON THE BORDERLAND. 

Their version was updated so that the events took place in the village of Kraighten in Ireland in 1952, rather than 1877.  Two travellers to Kraighten discover a diary in the ruins of a remote house, begun in 1816 by a fellow named Byron Gault, who tells a terrible tale of pig-like monsters inhabiting the area.  Gault's loyal dog, Pepper, battles them fearlessly in an effort to save his master, and Gault's sister, Mary.


Corben contributed to seven issues of Dark Horse's CONAN THE CIMMERIAN.  In issues 1 & 2 (July and August 2008), Conan's grandfather, Connacht, in a story within a story, runs into two werewolves.


In DC's HOUSE OF MYSTERY #16 (October 2009), Corben and writer Bill Willingham offered a short story titled The Hounds of Titus Roan, in which the master of a secluded house and a young female servant are the only ones left alive after a pack of wild dogs attacks, killing all the staff.  It soon becomes obvious that the dogs spared their lives for reasons unknown, and the two are held prisoners in the house for a year, with supplies dwindling.


DC's THE SPIRIT #7 (December 2010) included a short story by Corben and Strnad in which Will Eisner's enduring hero encounters a werewolf.

At the age of 72, Corben shows no signs of slowing down; and as sure as there'll be a full moon next month, you can bet more of Corben's dogs and werewolves will be howling at it.


Monday, May 14, 2012

Let Us Not Forget...The Jolly Entertainers!




Formed in 1906, the Jolly Entertainers were a children's band composed of five girls and two boys, six of them orphans.  Their music teacher, Herman Draper, quit his job as superintendent of an orphanage to pursue an idea: a home in which children would fend for themselves, refusing charity and eschewing government intervention.  The home would be funded by the children's own efforts, as they toured the nation giving concerts in every city and town along the way.  It was a foolhardy dream, bound to fail.  Or was it?

Herman Mainard Draper was born in Rainham Centre, Ontario, Canada, in 1856.  He was the son of a preacher, and had eight brothers and sisters.  The family moved to nearby Welland, Ontario, and later to Battle Creek, Michigan.  He was a student at Battle Creek Academy, and taught piano.  He studied at the Boston Conservatory of Music, and also earned a certificate from the Tonic Sol-Fa College in London, England.  Tonic Sol-fa was a simplified method for teaching sight-singing.

On September 18, 1878, Draper married 20-year-old Annie Pacey of Port Stanley, Ontario, and they had two sons: Harry, born 1880 in Battle Creek; and Cecil, born 1882 in London, Ontario, where the Draper's had taken their vows and where Herman was now teaching Tonic Sol-fa.  He also held a class in nearby St Thomas.

Shortly after the birth of Cecil the Drapers moved to Lincoln, Nebraska, where Draper had a job waiting for him at the University of Nebraska's Conservatory of Music.  Draper explained his program in the university's catalogue for the fall term of 1882: "Instruction will include the study of registers, solfeggi, scales and arpeggios; of the different styles of singing; and of English and Italian songs.  In the elementary and chorus classes of this department will be introduced the popular Tonic Sol-fa System, which is justified by its great success in England and elsewhere, and the apparent demand for it in this country."

"Apparent", indeed.  Tonic Sol-fa had its opponents, some of them among the faculty.  Draper's pupils, they contended, would never be able to read standard notation and participate in a conventional orchestra, and thus their education offered little prospect for a career in singing.

Within weeks of the start of the term Draper gave a demonstration of his system, but he won no converts among the skeptics.  Early in 1883 S. B. Hohmann, Director of the Conservatory of Music, hired another teacher, Louise Seacord, "a thorough musician and superior vocalist".  Draper refused to be ousted, and on June 15 he was somehow appointed the new director of the Conservatory.  The minutes of the Board of Regents read: "Resolved, that Prof. Wm. M. Draper [sic] be hereby appointed Director of the Musical Conservatory without salary and that the appointment of S. B. Hohman heretofore made be annulled.  Adopted."  On July 10, his position was confirmed, but Draper's victory was short-lived, as only an hour later the decision was reversed: "Resolved, that the application of Wm. M. Draper for appointment as Director of Conservatory of Music be indefinitely postponed, and that Mr S. B. Hohmann be continued as such Musical Director upon the same terms as heretofore..."

Draper left, but he wasn't about to give up on Tonic Sol-fa.  He gave lessons at local public schools and churches, and placed ads in newspapers.  He taught at St Claire Hall, the fall term beginning September 17, 1883.  On the 2nd day of the 18th annual meeting of the Nebraska State Teachers' Association, held March 25-27, 1884, Draper gave a performance: "In the afternoon, Prof. Draper, with his class of girls, presented a vocal drill in the Tonic Sol-fa system, which was very admirable."  The March 28 edition of the State Journal reported that his "class of 16 girls, ranging in years from 10 to 14, did some excellent work, which spoke louder than words of the superiority of the Tonic Sol-fa system as a teaching medium.  The time being restricted to half an hour, his program was of necessity limited, but during the exercises the whole audience of about 300 teachers seemed deeply interested."  He was garnering acceptance for Tonic Sol-fa, and for the next two years Draper gave demonstrations and lessons in nearby towns, including Seward.  Impressed, the school board of Seward asked him to teach there.

The Drapers moved to Seward in 1887, but not for long.  They went on to Kearney, Nebraska early in 1889, where Draper taught Sol-fa at local schools and put together the Kearney Juvenile Band.  Wherever he went, Herman was successful with his musical method: "It has no lines, no spaces, no clefs, no sharps, no flats, no naturals, no time figures, nothing but music in a plain, practicable, sensible notation as simple and natural as the music itself. Children comprehend and enjoy it and can learn to sing by it as readily and as well as they learn to read from books."

In 1889 it was reported in the Kearney Daily Hub that Draper was "giving extreme satisfaction with his vocal methods of teaching music by the Tonic Sol-fa system in the public schools of this city. The pupils receive certificates for their ability in 'musical memory, singing in time, singing from the modulator, and in ear exercises.' The professor has over a thousand pupils undergoing instruction of whose progress a record is kept."

He also opened Draper's Music Store, and issued a catalogue for his growing stock of sheet music.  He sold instructional books and violin strings, and offered lessons in "piano, violin, guitar and any other instrument..."

Annie Draper's sister, Edith, died of apoplexy in 1894.  She and Herman took in her little girl, also named Edith.

1890s: Herman and Annie Draper, with their two sons Harry and Cecil, and adopted niece, Edith

The Kearney Normal School, Business College, and Conservatory of Music opened its doors for the first time to a mere 50 pupils on September 10, 1895, and Draper, one of the school's incorporators, taught there for some time.

In the late 1890s, the Drapers moved to Calumet, Michigan, in the Upper Peninsula, where Herman opened a new music store and taught voice and various instruments.

During an extended vacation in 1900, he visited Burley, a socialist colony in Washington, established only two years earlier by the Co-Operative Brotherhood.  At that time the colony had a population of 45 men, 25 women, and 45 children.  Draper arrived in May and remained as a guest.  He had already brought two horns with him, and sent back home for more.  Additionally, he borrowed and rented other instruments and formed a children's band, composed of 24 girls and boys. That summer they journeyed to Tacoma and on to Seattle, where a concert was given August 21 at Ranke's hall.  The Seattle Post-Intelligencer reported ahead of the event that the band "has already achieved a good reputation.  An extensive programme has been prepared, consisting of vocal and instrumental selections.  The latter will comprise both band and string music and some fine choruses are included in the vocal numbers."  A fall tour of Oregon resulted in a loss of money, and Draper returned to Calumet.  Without their leader, the children's band lapsed into oblivion.

But Draper's interest in socialism continued, and he read magazine's like Burley's own Co-Operator, and Wilshire's, whose publication offices moved to Toronto after the magazine was banned in New York.

Draper organised the Twentieth Century Mandolin and Guitar Club in Calumet, and within two years its membership grew to 75 kids from 8 to 14 years old.  The club had two pianos, one organ, and some fifty violins, mandolins, guitars and brass instruments, as well as stacks of sheet music and instructional books. 

Draper formed a brass band with 18 of the children, and in 1903 he came up with the idea of occasionally utilising the band to raise money for his new goal: establishing a home for children (patterned somewhat after Burley's cooperative model) in which the little orphans would fend for themselves by giving concerts.  He also wanted to raise money for a vehicle that could transport his band. The Co-Operator reported that "Brother Draper is putting all he has -- his love, his time, his talent and his money -- into this work, and he calls on all interested to correspond with him..."

But Draper's efforts must have failed to raise sufficient funds, for it was in 1903 that he accepted an offer "to take temporary charge of a home-finding association supported by charity", the Good Will Farm, a shelter for homeless kids.  "I expected they would be able to secure a superintendent within a few weeks, but the board of directors decided they had found one in me, so I stayed on the job for three years."

There were only a handful of children at the Good Will Farm, though that number would quickly grow.  It was an actual farm, located three miles outside of Houghton, not far from Calumet.

Vintage postcard.  The photo was also used for a 1905 newspaper article on Draper and the Good Will Farm.

In 1903 a new home was built on the property, which Draper described in an interview two years later: "This is a frame building on a stone foundation and consists of a basement, which is used almost exclusively as a playroom for the children...Here they also have five swings, and one wall is almost covered with band instruments, which are at the disposal of any boy or girl who takes enough interest in music to make use of them, and there is scarcely an hour in the day that some one is not tooting." 

The first floor held the Drapers' private quarters, as well as a school room, dining room and pantry.  "The second floor is divided into girls' dormitory, girls' toilet and bathroom, nurseries, sewing room and bedrooms for the help."  Above that was the boys' dormitory.  Draper was quick to say that the house was "thoroughly up to date", though the grounds needed some improvement.  In 1904 they converted a portion of the property into a "lovely little park on the beautiful shores of Portage Lake."  The park had swings, merry-go-rounds, seats, picnic tables and a bonfire pit.  There was also a barn and stable, where they kept five cows, two calves and three horses.

Another important feature was the printing press, which Draper taught the children to use: "...we set the type and do the press work for Good Will.  With this we are not only disseminating the news of the work being carried on at Good Will Farm to our thousands of patrons, but we are giving our girls and boys the foundation, if not teaching them outright, for one of the most useful trades possible for them to learn."

The Duluth Evening Herald reported that the farm "is supported by contributions from charitably inclined people.  Mr. Draper has organised a band among the children, and they have been giving concerts in several cities in this part of the country for the benefit of the home."  The band performed in numerous cities throughout the Upper Peninsula, and their first tour allowed Draper to pay off $500 of $3000 owed on the new house.  Newspapers gave glowing reviews of successful concerts, and they were much in demand.  The band left July 1, 1906 for a 10-day tour that would prove to be their last.

Photo of the Good Will Farm during winter.

The Good Will Farm's independence ceased when they came under the auspices of the National Children's Home Society.  Draper explained years later: "The new directors at one of their first meetings passed a resolution requiring me to find homes for all children in the home at once.  They also decided, in deference to the wishes of some of the wealthy contributors, not to accept any more illegitimate children, and to accept no babies less than six months old.  At a subsequent meeting they passed a resolution requiring me to secure from the mother a waiver of her rights to the child, and they instructed me that under no conditions must I allow the mother to learn who adopted her child."  Draper said many years later "my wife and I had to make a definite choice between making money or caring for homeless waifs.  We chose the children rather than the cash, and we have never for a moment regretted our choice."  He'd been asked to take charge of a home in Thorndyke, Maine, but declined the offer.

Even before officially leaving his post in mid-August Draper had already reconsidered his plan to start a home in Seattle.  Part of his negotiations with the Good Will Farm was that he be allowed to take the children with him, and this request was granted.  There were twenty-one children, aged 8 to 16, in his personal care.  What he needed now was a vehicle large enough to transport such a large group, and in July of 1906 he made an excursion down to Detroit to inquire about having such a vehicle built.  George F. Strong, whom Draper had met in Houghton, was hired for the job.  A trade magazine reported in November, "The chassis is being built by the Rapid Motor Vehicle Company, of Pontiac, Michigan.  The machine will have 24 horsepower, with an 18-foot wheelbase and 21-foot frame, and will be capable of making 16 miles an hour."

The Rapid Motor Vehicle Company specialised in building trucks and were known for their Pullman Passenger cars, capable of seating 12 people.  The work, which was actually being done in Detroit, was progressing rapidly, as detailed in Automobile Topics magazine:  "The car in general outward appearance resembles a street car, having vestibuled ends.  It is 26 feet long, 7 feet 6 inches wide and 7 feet high inside.  Beneath the seats, which extend along both sides, are lockers for bedding and clothing.  At night the car can be converted into a sleeper by means of iron rods strung across the interior, upon which the cushions will be placed, thus providing two tiers of mattresses."  Upon completion the car seated 22, and was said to be "the only car of its kind in the country", for which Draper paid $3000, the last of his money.

But something had gone terribly wrong.  Draper was forced to restore the children in his care to the Good Will Farm, which must have been heart-wrenching.  Draper convinced the home to make a few exceptions, as he couldn't bear to see families broken up, as they often were.  Ultimately, a much reduced party would make the pilgrimage west.  The children included Herman and Annie's own daughter, Birdie, as well as Italian siblings Mike and Maggie, and four Norwegian brothers and sisters, Hartel, Doloros, Gudrun and Phillis, all from the Good Will Farm.  Postcards were printed to advertise their intentions, showing Draper and the children with their various instruments.  This new band of juvenile musicians was called the Jolly Entertainers.

Though this card was printed after they moved to Des Moines, Washington in 1908, the photo is of the original line-up of the Jolly Entertainers, probably taken in 1906.  Below: the back of the card.



Wasting no time, the Jolly Entertainers made a tour of Michigan and Wisconsin while the vehicle was still in production.  Draper and his band left Houghton for the last time on October 31, 1906, and headed for Detroit.  Accompanying them were Annie and her sister, Louise McKay ("Aunt Lou"), as well as George Strong, who apparently volunteered to drive the vehicle.  Draper had already sent furniture and other belongings to Seattle by freight.

Draper could have had the vehicle delivered to Houghton and taken a more direct route through Wisconsin, but to avoid nigh impassable roads and harsh winters it was decided they'd go down to Indiana and head west from there.  Their first stop was in Jackson, Michigan, where the car was shortened by six feet.  The original length was intended to accommodate twenty-one children, but now there were only seven, so the vehicle was impractical.  Travel was slower than expected.  The top speed of 16 mph was contingent on good road conditions.

They stopped in Elkhart, Indiana, then Goshen, giving concerts.  Their peculiar vehicle attracted attention wherever they went.  Trouble began just after Christmas: following a brief stay in Kokomo, they headed south for Tipton, but were forced to turn back, their vehicle breaking down on a farm road four miles south of Kokomo.  A farmer fed the hungry group, then hauled the vehicle into his barn.  After a phone call to Kokomo, the town officials decided it was best to send the children to White's Manual Labor Institute just outside of Wabash, until Michigan authorities could figure out what to do with them. White's Institute was intended to educate and train troubled and difficult children, and Draper's wards clearly didn't belong there, but it would be many weeks before they were released into his custody.

Postcard, 1906, letting folks know that the Drapers, as well as the Jolly Entertainers, are moving to Seattle.

In the meantime, Draper and Strong were feuding.  Strong was owed money for driving, as well as for repairing the vehicle, which he insisted be paid before continuing the journey to Washington.  At one point, Draper tried to sell the vehicle, but no one else had use for such an odd contraption.  The band played April 10 in Elwood, south east of Kokomo, but went by train.  Fortunately, Draper and Strong were able to settle their differences, and the trip resumed in mid-April.

The spring weather being much more agreeable, they headed north through Illinois.  At every stop they made the Jolly Entertainers played on street corners and sold postcards to stir up interest in their concerts.  The little troupe explained their mission and the postcards sold quickly.  The publicity worked, and the kids rarely played to a house that wasn't filled to capacity.  As well, Draper always made sure the local papers knew they were in town, and reviews were invariably positive.  En route their act had developed from an instrumental and choral concert into vaudeville, by including dance, comedy skits, plays and poetry recitals.

They spent the entire month of August in western Montana, playing extended engagements at theatres in Missoula, Sanders County, and Havre.  As the roads proved too muddy and treacherous for their vehicle, Draper had it loaded onto a flatbed rail car and shipped to Seattle.  The party also took the train, but stayed for a week in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho for a number of performances in September.

Draper's goal from the beginning was to reach Seattle by September, so that the children could start the school year on time, but they didn't arrive until October.  They found a temporary abode in Ballard, which was annexed by Seattle only a few months earlier.  The trip had been an ordeal, but wholly necessary.  Said Draper, "[A]ll of us have the satisfaction of knowing that each worked his or her own way to the promised land."


During their stay in Ballard, the number of children in the home swelled to 20.  In general the kids taken in were orphans or homeless waifs.  In some cases a single parent dropped them off to take a job far away, and paid for their keeping; when they got back on their feet again, they returned for their little one.  "Every child in our home has a story," said Draper.  "Almost all of them represent broken homes or broken hearts."  In perhaps the most extreme case, one girl, aged 10, had witnessed her mother murdered in their hovel.  After a struggle she managed desperately to flee with her little sister.  Both were now in the care of the Drapers.

The Jolly Entertainers while still in Ballard, 1907 or 1908.  The 7 original members have been joined by a growing mob of little musicians.

In June of 1908 Draper found a permanent residence in Des Moines, situated halfway between Seattle and Tacoma.  It was "a run-down hotel with thirty rooms," said Draper, "which could be had for $3,500.  I bought it, paying $50 down and agreeing to pay $50 a month till it was paid for."  The hotel was built in 1890 by John Hiatt (not to be confused with the Hyatt chain of hotels) to accommodate the population of 212 people in the newly founded logging town.

The first telephone lines in Des Moines were put up in 1908, provided by the Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Company; otherwise, the town was still in its primitive stages.  There was little, if any, electricity.  There was no running water -- residents had to pump their own.  Outhouses were common, as there were no sewers.  The privileged owned a septic tank.  There was no highway in or out of Des Moines until 1916, only a wagon-wheel trail.  The most popular form of transportation was the "mosquito fleet", the myriad steamers which plied the waters of Puget Sound, connecting communities.


View of Des Moines, looking west.  At right the Hiatt hotel can be seen; it became the Children's Industrial Home for the next two decades.

The brood kept growing, consisting of homeless waifs, orphans, and abandoned children, mostly children no one else wanted, or that state-run orphanages weren't permitted to keep. Despite being three storeys high and having 30 rooms, the hotel was small, and the Drapers found it impossible to keep more than three dozen children at a time.  The children called Herman "Daddy", and Annie "Mother".

Draper stated in an interview, "Within our home everybody helps every one else.  Housework, simple gardening, and the cultivation of a social instinct which sees the needs of others offers cheery aid, are the domestic studies ceaselessly pursued.  Wholesome food, warm clothing, comfortable beds and clean quarters, plenty of sleep and air and play, with a good season of work, combine to make every member self-respecting, responsible, level-headed, and -- best of all -- level-eyed, as shown by the independent look of equality with which our children approach the world when they give to it the very best of what they have in return for what they actually need."

Postcard, from a photo taken September 11, 1909.  No opportunity wasted, the drum reads "Pictures of the children & home 5 cents each".

A barn, also part of the property, was converted into an opera house, with a stage, curtains and scenery, where the kids provided vaudeville entertainment for the locals, usually musical comedy and theatre.  Draper had a small water tower built, to provide for running water and a toilet on each floor.  In addition, a play area was built on the grounds for the children.


There was also a print shop set up in a little green house out back, "an old shed", as Draper described it.  There were three presses (run by gasoline engine), a composing stone, 55 fonts of type, and other tools.  (By 1915 there were four presses and 75 fonts.)  The press was run by the children, who typeset and printed their own newsletter, The Good Will, as well as programmes and promotional postcards and flyers.  The Good Will contained articles written by the children, sometimes essays about their experiences travelling as the Jolly Entertainers.  These experiences were summed up in a 1917 newspaper article: "The teachers are carried right along so that their education is not neglected and they are always taken to visit all the interesting or instructive features wherever they stop, having seen already what most children only read about.  Going down in the mines, watching the building of ships, going through the great sugar refinery on the coast.  On one occasion they saw sugar from the cane to the table and each received a bag of sugar as a souvenir."  The paper was published monthly, and yearly subscriptions could be had for one dollar.  They also accepted commercial printing jobs: "We guarantee satisfaction and we need your help."

Perhaps their most ambitious printing effort, a small (6" x 4") book, 92 pages.  It contained a history of the group, as well as jokes, plays, poems and articles by the children.  Small press publishing at its finest.  The price was steep, but the cause worthy.

Early photo, date unknown.

Draper also taught the boys how to repair cars and trucks.  The girls learned how to sew and knit.

The Jolly Entertainers travelled in a caravan of trucks, with "Daddy" and "Mother", and usually with one or two teachers in tow.  The children brought their school books.  They also brought their toys, said Draper: "They are ever anxious to romp and play with the children they meet in the towns and cities, and the dollies and trinkets must go with them on their little journeys."  Wherever they went on their tours, the Drapers were always able to find overnight lodging for the children.  This usually wasn't a problem, for, if there weren't enough hotel rooms available, the good citizens of the community would take in three or four at a time.  As one newspaper put it, "Instead of finding it difficult to place the children there were not enough in the party to go around."  Where possible they camped out in tourist parks or municipal parks.

Rare view of the Jolly Entertainers in performance.  Date unknown, but early in their career.

This photo was used on postcards as early as 1909.

Draper described his home as perhaps the only self-supporting children's home in the world: "We do not have any support from the county, town or any public institution or state.  The only way we make money to run the home is by giving concerts in different cities."  And so they did.  Within the first three years they performed hundreds of concerts in the state of Washington alone.

The children attended public school in Des Moines, and the entertainment provided by the Jolly Entertainers was secular.  Draper said, "I do not cram religion down the children's throats.  We try to live the Sermon on the Mount.  Each morning we sing a few gospel songs, read a few verses in the Bible..."  But he didn't teach them to turn the other cheek: "Frequently town children pick on our boys.  I say to my boys, 'No one but a coward picks a fight.  I never want you to strike the first blow, but I want you always to strike the last one.'"


Folded card, 1912.  Draper's manifesto.

Draper was convinced he and his wife gave the children all the love, care and fostering they needed.  Before leaving Houghton Draper had stated that their Seattle home would "be for the purpose of furnishing a residing place for the boys and girls until permanent homes can be found for them."  He would soon change his mind about giving the kids up for adoption.  One of the home's fold out cards stated: "We have no children to give away or place in homes.  This is their home and here they remain until they grow up and want to leave."

Their concerts were successful, if not financially, at least critically.  Attendance was good, and often houses were packed, always to appreciative audiences, as the many newspaper reports attest.  An excerpt from a 1911 newspaper article describes in some detail one of their earlier shows:

The program was a continuous play and was pronounced the best ever given by these little folks.

The first was a scene on the street.  A bunch of children on their way to a picnic are met by Uncle Josh, who is persuaded to go along.  They are followed by Happy Hooligan and Gloomy Gus, who also go to the picnic and get "filled up."

Scene 2 is the picnic full blast, children swinging, skipping, playing ball, boxing, etc.  Uncle Josh is there, according to agreement, gets dumped out of the swings and has a general good time.  Happy and Gloomy are the biggest toads in the puddle and the only break in the festivities is the appearance of a cop who attempts to arrest Happy, but the tables turned on him.  Scene 3 finds a host of people buying tickets for the "big show".  Scene 4 is the big show, given by the Lilliputians and it certainly is a "Big Show".  This part of the program is made up of the most catchy songs, beautiful motions and poses, marches, graceful dances and the most laughable vaudeville ever presented on a Port Townsend stage by young performers.

The company will remain over and give another program tonight with an entire change of bill.

The price for the evening show was 35 cents general admission, 50 cents for reserved seats, and 15 cents for children under 14.  Draper said he paid "from five dollars to one hundred fifty dollars rent for a theatre, depending on the size of the town."

No venue left untrodden, they even performed for a Washington chain gang in 1910.  The children met them at the gate upon their return from work.

Summer, 1910.

Draper didn't forget his roots.  The Jolly Entertainers often toured Canada, mostly the Western Provinces.
 
But Draper's Home and the way it was maintained had its opponents.  In April of 1912, the Jolly Entertainers were playing in front of the Imperial Hotel in Portland, Oregon, when someone from the Child Labor Commission stopped them, as ordered by Mrs Millie R. Trumbull, who, according to an interested party, was "in communication with a minister in the State of Washington who is endeavouring to close Mr. Draper's home for the children.  A bill to turn such homes over to the state was introduced at the last session of the Washington Legislature, but was defeated.  There is no reason why Mr Draper's home should be closed, for he is doing a good work for orphans and half orphans.  They are receiving a musical education by which any of them may go out and earn a livelihood."  Mrs Trumbull didn't see it that way.  "She said all institutions for children should be in charge of the state."
 

Later that year they had to cancel two shows in Moscow, Idaho.  According to Draper, "the probate officer and prosecuting attorney had evidently come in contact with some old fossil, who wanted to become conspicuous as being interested in the welfare of children, so they interpreted the child labour law so closely that they would not allow us to perform in the theatre or even play on the street..."

Busybodies like these were annoyances that Draper had to deal with now and then, along with the occasional police officer upholding a by-law preventing the children from performing in the street.

Folded postcard; this vehicle was probably used for local jaunts.

The Jolly Entertainers performed in Washington all year round, especially locally, and toured widely during the three months of summer vacation.  They were a hard-working band, as the following will attest.  They toured California extensively in 1914, in an effort to raise enough money to pay off their mortgage on the Home.  Draper must have been granted a special dispensation, for they began their long journey in the middle of the school year, January 14, taking the O.W.R. & N. (Oregon-Washington Railroad and Navigation Company) and Southern Pacific railroads from Washington down to Porterville, in the middle of California, then on to Modesto, where Draper bought a three-ton truck, a new body built to accommodate passengers and baggage.  Draper wrote in a 1915 article, "On this machine they carried sixteen trunks of costumes, scenery and school books, two large laundry baskets, thirty hand grips and boxes, twenty-three horns and thirty people, seats being arranged for the passengers above the trunks and other baggage."

Newspaper ad from February 23, 1914.

After numerous performances in many towns along the way, the stopped in Benecia, near San Francisco, where they purchased another truck, as well as a 50 x 100 foot tent (which they erected if a town had no theatre or opera house to perform in), 200 chairs and a piano.  From there they travelled north, with Portland, Oregon as their goal.  "The roads varied from the finest concrete to a common country wagon road, sometimes of hard clay and others of sandy loam, gravel or solid mountain rock."

Sometimes the route was downright treacherous: "The bends in the road at times were so abrupt that our huge trucks were often obliged to move back and forth three or four times before making the turns, at other times they would be scraping rocks on one side, with the mountains extending hundreds of feet above them, while on the opposite side the wheels would ride within a foot or two of the edge, overlooking a steep precipice or a yawning abyss below..."


A photo taken during their gruelling 1914 tour of California.

While crossing the Trinity river one of the trucks crashed through the bridge.  Fortunately it was only the baggage car.  It took four hours to free the truck, during which time the kids took their school lessons.  After that they carried planks and built their own road for 300 feet up a sandy incline, then ran "into a forest so dense and our trucks being so wide that we had to cut down a few trees and chop off branches to get through them."  They also had to ford ten streams, and got stuck in one overnight.

They spent ten months in California, and "performed in 121 different towns and cities, in many of the finest theatres and opera houses of the state.  Entertained the students of over 200 high schools and grammar schools, two state normals, two insane asylums, two state prisons, visited the great oil fields and wells at Coalinga, the gold fields at Oroville, the San Francisco world famous Golden Gate park, the seal rocks, Cliff house, ostrich farms, entertained in the Palace hotel, were invited as guests to theatres, spent a whole evening in Chinatown..."

Draper was a member of the Elks.

Draper ran into considerable trouble December 31st of that year.  The Municipal Charities Commission received word from the State Board of Charities and Corrections "that an organisation consisting of twenty-five children and seven adults, and known as the 'Jolly Entertainers', was travelling in two auto-trucks towards Los Angeles, where it expected to give entertainments, chiefly musical in nature, for the purpose of raising funds to enlarge a children's home located in Des Moines, Washington."

The Commission's investigation of Draper's Home was less than thorough: they simply wired the editor of Welfare Magazine in Seattle.  The reply was terse, of course: "Institution without trustees or equivalent; several prominent men at first approved withdrew several years ago.  Children no good training; taken out as entertainers.  Property in Draper's name.  Now acquiring additional place.  Washington Labour Commission tried to suppress bill but found institution legal."

The Commission concluded that Draper was exploiting the children for his own profit.  When he reached Los Angeles and applied for a permit to perform there they were refused, as it violated the State Child-Labour Law, which prohibited children under the age of 12 from providing entertainment.  Despite the refusal, Draper made arrangements at a theatre to have the band perform.  He and Annie were arrested that evening, and Draper was given a sentence of 180 days in jail and a $250 fine.  The trucks and all the scenery and equipment were seized.

The next day a meeting was held.  Present were representatives of the State Board of Charities, the Los Angeles Humane Society for Children, and the National Child Labour Committee, as well as the Drapers, the children, and their teachers.  A proposition was made by which Draper could be set free.  The agreement read:

We, the undersigned, hereby give you our solemn promise not to give any more performances in the State of California or en route, and to return immediately and directly with the children under out control to Des Moines, Washington, and we further promise that as long as these children are under our control or that we conduct our institution, that we will not give any public performances except those authorised by the Central Council of Social Agencies of Seattle, and that we will at once incorporate our institution as a Children's Home, to be maintained and conducted as such according to the laws of the State of Washington and the recommendations of the Central Council of Social Agencies, Seattle.

It was signed by Herman and Annie, and arrangements were made to send them back to Seattle by boat.  Draper violated his parole by stopping in Oakland to secure a pardon from the Governor.  It wasn't granted.  Once they were back in Washington, beyond the reach of California authorities, it was business as usual for the Jolly Entertainers.


Money was never solicited, but Draper said he wouldn't refuse a "friendly donation".  A 1920 flyer sent round to labour unions asked that each member contribute one penny to the home: "It certainly seems small, but think what it means to those children!"  But he stopped short of calling it charity: "Oh, no!  These kiddies print 'Good Will,' and for each dollar sent as per capita on the one-cent basis they will send a copy of their little paper, which should be passed around at your next union meeting, so that as many members as possible may read it and pass it on to others."

When the children grew up, they left the home, but a few stayed on.  By 1914 two of the original seven Jolly Entertainers were old enough to assist Draper in teaching the children.  Later, a fellow named Lloyd Sawner became the stage manager for the Jolly Entertainers, arranging lights and special effects for the shows.  Julia James, nine years at the home, became a band leader, helping to rehearse the kids.

Around 1918 Draper bought 5 acres of property adjacent to his, which extended to the waterfront, and converted it into a park.  He built a playground for the children.  Over the creek that ran down the middle of the park a bandstand was erected, and beside it a small wooden foot bridge.  Though private property, the park was open to anyone, and a shelter with a large brick fireplace was provided for picnickers.  The park also operated as a campground, for which Draper charged a fee.  The September 1919 issue of "Good Will" described the "monster picnic" at the official opening of the park on Sunday, July 20:

All day long a large steamer plyed the waters between Seattle and Des Moines loaded with capacity crowds.  A continuous stream of autos of every description came over the new brick highway.  The big dancing pavillion with accomodations for 1000 people was one busy whirl of happy dancers and in the beautiful park owned by the Children's Home were over 10,000 Elks and their families seated at tables and lunching on the hillsides and on either side of the beautiful little stream that runs through the park.  The Elks and Marine band gave some fine concerts under the trees, and of course Daddy Draper's kiddies gave quite a program of solos, choruses and band numbers.

On October 31, 1921, courtesy of the Seattle Star newspaper, the kids of the Draper home, Mother Ryther's home, the Theodora home, and the Washington Children's home were treated to an afternoon screening of Mary Pickford in "Little Lord Fauntleroy", based on the children's novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett.  All 150 of the excited kids piled into the Coliseum's balcony seats.  Buses to transport them were paid for by local businesses.  Two days later Draper's kids and the children from Mother Ryther's were treated to a special performance at the Colonial theatre by Jack Hoxie, a star of western films.  Formerly in Wild West shows, he no doubt thrilled the youngsters with his roping expertise.


Their new Ford "Pullman", 1923.

It seems the Jolly Entertainers were inspirational at times.  A Portland magazine reported that after their appearance there in August of 1922, there was a marked increase in sales of instruments.  The local populace were certainly charmed by 6-year-old cornet player, "Baby Edna", who was a hit with audiences everywhere.

Draper, with Baby Edna, performing in the street, c. 1922.

Their longest tour began in June of 1924.  In August they made a stop in Battle Creek, Michigan.  None of the current members of the Jolly Entertainers had even been born when the original lineup left that state. They travelled down the east coast to Florida, where they stayed for the winter.  A teacher was brought along, and their grades were sent back to the school commissioner in Spokane, Washington.


The Jolly Entertainers stayed in Florida during the cold months of 1924/1925.  Below: The back of the card.  Baby Edna's presence drew larger audiences.


Draper once said that the kids they took in to the home were never "picked": "We go to the gutter almost for much of our material.  We take them as providence sends them, and make of them what we can.  It is not our desire or aim to make great artists of the children, nor to urge them to follow the stage in after life.  The entertainments are a means to an end.  That end is to make real men and real women of our charges.  Some of the children may fall short of the mark.  But there is no indication of failure in a single individual now.  Anyway, if failure should come in later life it will not be because of a start in the wrong direction."

The Jolly Entertainers were able to support their Des Moines home for 19 years, but on April 13, 1927 Annie died suddenly from heart failure.  Her funeral was held four days later, without Herman, who had suffered a stroke earlier that morning.  He had a second stroke the next night, April 18, and died at home at the age of 70.

The Jolly Entertainers, circa 1922.

It was a terrible loss for the children, and no doubt a living nightmare, as their world was turned upside down and their future was in doubt.  Matron Elizabeth Oak took charge, but they were now depending on charity, which they were bred to shun.  In November, it was thanks to the goodness of other children that they lasted much longer: A newspaper account read, "Forty youngsters at the Des Moines Children's home will eat chicken, sweet and white potatoes, salad, pumpkin pie and all the trimmings of a regular Thanksgiving dinner today.  And part of it will be provided through the generous giving of Des Moines school children.  All day yesterday trucks and automobiles delivered gifts from school children, including everything from canned goods to potatoes.  Hundreds of jars of canned fruit, vegetables and jam last night lined the shelves of the storage cellar. Barrels and barrels of apples, squashes, pumpkins, carrots and turnips were included in the offering.  The produce should last the home for many months..."

Unfortunately, the home couldn't be maintained without the guidance, inspiration and management of "Mother" and "Daddy" Draper, and so the Children's Industrial Home was closed, and the hotel eventually demolished.

But the children were always determined never to sink into historical oblivion.  The Harrington Opera house, built in 1904 in the tiny town of Harrington, Washington, was bought and restored in recent years, except for the walls of the dressing rooms, which were left untouched, a relic of the past.  The children were only too happy to deface the walls with their signatures, and "The Jolly Entertainers, Sept. 18-19, 1916" is visible, along with other such scribblings for each time they performed there.  Way to go, kids!

Camping in East Potomac Park, Washington, DC, November 25, 1924