The Sunny Side of the Street — Edition Insights

The Entertainer’s Craft and Its Risks

Wilder devotes considerable attention to the practical challenges of his profession, particularly the delicate task of selecting material. He notes that hundreds of jokes that are decent enough for one’s wife and children may be called vulgar by people who are not noted for refinement in other ways. This observation reveals his awareness of audience variability and the social tightrope entertainers walk. He contrasts the English tolerance for repetition—remarking that an Englishman can never get too much of a good thing—with the American appetite for novelty, even if the new material is awfully bad. These distinctions are not mere asides; they form the backbone of his professional philosophy. Wilder also details the business side of London engagements, noting the simplicity of arrangements, the fixed fee of fifteen or twenty pounds, and the absence of haggling. He mentions that Baron de Rothschild often paid sixty pounds for a ten-minute entertainment, a rate of thirty dollars a minute, underscoring the value placed on skilled amusement in high society.

Portraits of Power: Presidents and Politicians

Wilder’s encounters with political figures are rendered with a mixture of deference and insider familiarity. He recounts predicting to Major McKinley that he would become president, and describes McKinley’s attention to his wife during a performance. His meeting with President Harrison is presented in two stages: a first, less pleasing encounter, and a second that improved. Wilder does not dwell on policy or ideology; instead, he focuses on personal demeanor and storytelling ability. He notes that Harrison told stories, and that Vice-Presidents Morton and Hobart also appear. The chapter on Sunny Men of Serious Presence includes Richard Croker, whom Wilder portrays as a good fellow not hard to approach if one is not in politics. He describes Croker as a haymaker who does not keep opinions on tap, and recounts an anecdote where Croker bewilders a London salesman. These vignettes prioritize the human element over political substance, consistent with Wilder’s aim to find the sunny side of serious men.

Actors and Their Humor: A Backstage View

The chapter on actors’ jokes presents a gallery of stage personalities, each associated with a specific comic trait. Wilder mentions Joe Jefferson, J. K. Emmett, Fay Templeton, Willie Collier, and others, but he does not recount their jokes in full; instead, he emphasizes that all of them are full of humor at all times. This blanket assertion suggests a professional courtesy or a desire to maintain a positive tone. He includes a curious detail about an actor’s portrait on a church wall, and references playwrights like Gus Thomas and Charles Hoyt. The inclusion of W. S. Gilbert and Henry Irving indicates his transatlantic reach. Wilder’s treatment of these figures is anecdotal rather than analytical; he offers glimpses of their offstage personalities rather than critiques of their performances. This approach aligns with his stated goal of presenting recollections of the sunny side of people, avoiding any hint of scandal or criticism.

The Geography of Amusement: Philadelphia and London

Wilder devotes a chapter to Philadelphia, which he calls a sunny old city, and touches on fun in a hospital and the Cripple’s Palace. These references suggest an interest in finding humor in unexpected places, including institutions associated with suffering. His treatment of London is more extensive, focusing on the social mechanics of the entertainment season. He describes the London season as running from May to July, ending with the Goodwood races, and explains his own routine of sending letters from the steamer at Queenstown so that replies await him at his hotel. The contrast between American and English audiences is a recurring theme: Americans demand novelty, while the English are loyal to favorites even after they have lost the power of pleasing. Wilder’s observations about fees and social treatment—the entertainer as guest, the sealed envelope handed at departure—reveal a code of conduct that governed his profession. These details ground the book in a specific historical moment, when the professional entertainer was a recognized figure in transatlantic society.

Wilder’s collection is best approached as a series of performance notes rather than a continuous narrative. Readers interested in the social history of American humor at the turn of the century will find value in his observations on audience expectations, the economics of entertainment, and the personal styles of public figures. The book’s episodic structure invites dipping in and out, much like a variety show. Wilder’s voice remains consistently genial, and his refusal to dwell on the negative is itself a revealing authorial choice.

Wilder’s book sat on my lap the way my grandmother’s photo albums used to—people long gone, still laughing mid-sentence. It made me think of evenings answering the ward phone, overhearing fragments of lives. I found that same ache of intimacy in The Story of a Doctor's Telephone—Told by His Wife — A Reader’s Guide, where the ringing never quite stops echoing.