The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, 1850-06-18
misfellancous Department.
AL0ISE SENEFELDER.

y y
was acted one night at the principal theatre.
The part oil one of the characters, whose duty
it was to keep the audience in perpetual roar
of laughter, was sustained by young man,
whose mournful actions and spiritless gestures
were strangely at variance with the drolleries
he uttered. He seemed to be about seventeen
years old, his figure was tall and slender, his
countenance pale, and his large blue eyes wore
an expression of profound melancholy. The
piece was numerically Kissed; and, as soon as
it was over, while the young actor was chang
ing his dress, one of the attendants made his
appearance.
"Mr. Aloise Senefelder~ said he, the man.
ager wishes to speak to you Immediately
"Tel him am coming" replied the young
man; and hastily finishing his toilette, he re-
paired to the managers room.
"Mr. Senefelder," said the man in authority,
do you know that l am the author of the
play acted to-nights''
"Yes, sir" said Aloise, timidly.
"Do you know the piece is condemnedF
"Sir," said Aloise, " did my est"
"To make it fail, and you have succeeded"
said the ncensed author. "From this moment
you are no longer one Of my company. Here
is what owe you-take it, sir, and withdraw"
Astonished ut these words, Aloise stood like
a statue. He seemed without power either to
take the money or to move. At length, the
box-keeper, who was present, took the few
coins and placed them in his hand; and the
cold contact of the silver recalling him to re-
collection, he claspet his fingers convulsively
together, and falling on his knees, burst into
tears.
"Ah! don't send me away!-don't send me
awayw he cried
al want an actor. not a mourner," said the
manager-author, in whose ears the Kisses were
yet ringing. ain place oflaughing, you weep"
"Sir, my father died two davs ago, and he
i, not vet buried, for want of a coffin to con-
tain his dear remains. My mother and my five
little brothers and sisters have only me to de-
pend upon. Try me, then, Mr.. Sparman-try
me once more, beseech you"
"Sorry can't grant your request" said the
manager, taking up his hat and moving towards
the door. As he passed Aloise, on whose pale
face tie burning tears seemed frozen by de.
spair, the feelings of the man partly conquered
those of the author
Double the salary, and pay for the fathers
funeral, Mr.. Fik," he said to the box-keeper,
and went out
Fitz took a few crowns from drawer, placed
them in the hands of Aloise, helped him to rise,
and then giving him his arm, assisted him out
of the theatre.
Kindly supporting the poor boys tottering
steps, the box. keeper led him to an undertaker's
shop, and gave orders for an humble coffin.
Then, seeing him able to walk to his mothers
lodging, Fitz took leave of him and returned to
the theatre.
The widow Senefelder Inhabited miserable
apartment in an obscure part of the CITY,
Want and misery were stamped on the inno-
cent faces of the FIVE little ones who surround
ed her, and who, with one accord, rushed to-
wards Aloise as he entered.
The eldest. pretty girl about ten years old,
drew them back, and, putting her lips close to
her brothers ears. whispered
"Have You brought any supper, Aloise =
Here" said he, giving her the silver he had
received
$50 much as thats" said the sister; " they
must be much pleased to give you so many
crowns"
So much pleased, Marianne, that they nave
dismissed me-
"Then you are no longer an actor" said
one of the little boys. $50 much the better
1t is an ungodly profession, our curate says"
eyes," rejoined another child, but how
shall we get money to buy bread, il Aloise
does nothings'
"Hush, hush," said Marianne; don't let
our dear mamma hear this bad news tonight
We will pray to God, who has taken papa to
Himself, and perhaps He will send us some
consolation"
Alolse was silent He watched all night by
his fathers corpse, and the next morning follow
ed it to the grave. Instead of returning home,
he wandered idly through the streets, pursued
by the still recurring question, What can do"
Night approached. He thoughtof returning to
his mother recollecting how uneasy his absence
would make her but when he looked around,
he knew not where no was. In absence of
mind, he had wandered far into the country,
and the rushing of river struck his ear. He
approached its bank, and, overcome by fatigue
and hunger, sank down upon the soft grass
For some time he watched the flowing water,
till dreadful idea entered his poor harassed
brain.
"Beneath that quiet wave" he thought, all
nv woes would soon be ended. | am no long
or good for anything. | am only burden to
my mother, giving her another mouth to feed.
will therefore die, aud all will be over!'
Aloise had been educated in sentiments of
Christian piety; and now, like ray of light