The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-12-17

al avVuI ~ DeO"uSo She Weabnel W@a 30
awlully cold.
A. JUMPING JACK.
II the theatre was crowded on Christmas
day and evening, the circus was absolutely
packed
''what house !" said the ringmaster to
Mr.. Merryman, in whisper.
"Perfect knocker ~ said Mr., Merryman to
the ringmaster, in another whisper.
The performance was received with such
cheers and such shouts The wonderful Mon
sieur Jacques had half dozen bunches of
flowers thrown to him.
The wonderful Monsieur jacques, as he was
called in the circus bill, was the champion
leaper ofthe circus. He could leapover six horses
all standing side by side and turn somer-
set in the air, coming down in the ring on his
feet. He could jump over the heads of two
men, one on the others shoulders, without
brushing a hair of the head over which his
| feet skinned. He could turn two somersets
] in the air at once, as easily as you can turn
! over this page. He could Jump twelve feet
and thirteen inches on dead level without
| any spring board or any run for the start.
Oh, wonderful man was Monsieur jacques.
lie was not Monsieur however, and his
| name was not Jacques-though there is mo-
thing wonderful about that, in these days Of
| high. sounding professional cognomens.
His name was John Smithson but nobody
| called him so. To all his friends and acquaint-
|
the equestrians and the gymnasts, one and all,
! he was known as Monsieur Jack.
Jack was tWenty-three years old. He was
handsome Jack, besides being an agile one,
and what was better still he was an intelligent,
thoughtful Jack, and what was best of all he
was a good Jack-good and true, steady and
quiet, with no worse habits than the one habit
Of cigar-smoIing, and that is saying good
deal for him in these days when all the young
men learn to toss off all sorts Of tanglesome
fluid villainies as naturally as so many naturals
Jack was neither dissipated nor idle.
He was neither spenuthrift nor a
bar-room lounger. He had his modest
the greater part of his time when he was not
at the circus, practising his muscular exercises
in the ay-time, or performing his wonderful
feats in the evening.
He was such graceful, springy, well-shaped,
bright-faced lad that many young girl who
had been at the circus that day and that night
thought over and over again of the handsome
young gymnast when she went home, and
dreamed of him when she went to sleep.
But Monsieur jacks thoughts were pre-
occupied that day and night; and of all the
things that should preoccupy the thoughts of
an intelligent young man, what should Mon
sieur Jack be thinking about but Somebody's
Stocking
Thinking of Somebody's Stocking, he strolled
into the theatre, which was still open, and
there in the ballet which was being danced he
saw number of stockings.
Not such stockings as Somebody's, though +!
And while Jack was looking at the number
of stockings on the stage and wondering what
was in them-whether flesh and blood, or
merely woven wool-for Jack, being in the
profession, knew of the mysteries of padding,
though disdaining them in his own person
there fitted across his vision, like dream OF
the dead and gone Past, the sweet young face
he had known years ago, and to whose owner
he had given the name of Sugar-plums.
Could it be Kitty King
He searched the play-bill. No name there.
She belonged to the catalogue of nameless no
bodies who do most Of the work and get least
of the pay.
While he sat there the sweet face went away
with the others which belonged to the drove
of nameless ones, and gave place to great
creature shockingly unclad, who came apC
threw herself madly about, pointing her toe
in the face of the trumpeter, and the bass
fiddler, and the tenor drummer, one after the
other.
Jack arose and left the theatre.
~ must be mistaken" he said to himself as
he walked to his lodgings. "It can never be
that little girl who lived in the village and who
used to call me Jumping Jack. No, not car
never be |"
And why, pray, Mr.. Jumping JackH Why
pray, can it never be? Mr.. Jumping Jack ex
plains no further, having reached his room
having passed by the doorpost where Some
body's Stocking is still hanging empty in the
darkness, and reached his room. He unlocki
his door, goes in, locks it inside, and slowly
prepares for bed.
''I'd give the world" he says, forgetting
altogether that he has not the world to give
'if it were she. But it is not. Twas mistaken
Et Uoild tout.'
8. ET VOLTA TOUT.
Mistaken or not, the recollection Of th
ballet-g girls face torments Monsieur Jacl
sadly.
He cannot sleep.
He tosses and tumbles on his bed, and al
night long he dances through an interminabl
ballet in his dreams, and points his toe in tn
face of the trumpeter, and the bass fiddler
and the tenor drummer.
And when in his dreams he is not dancing
through the interminable ballet, he is standin
on his head at the circus and seeing, to hi
horror, the sweet-faced, modest little ballet
girl trying to vault over six horses standin
| side by side, and falling and killing herself.
He wakes early in the morning, and bathe
himself and dresses himself and prepares t
i 60 down; and going down he meets the joll,
washerwoman with the red face who gives hin
the top of the marniD' and calls Heaven t.
t bless his honest young eyes.
AS he reaches the bottom of the flight 0
stairs leading down to the fourth floor he stops
There 1t hangs still.
J Pinned to the door-post by the cruel prong
| of the Old-fashioned iron fork, there it hang
Somebody's Stocking.
IsAAT L