Ellsworth American., 1874-06-25

the hand and congratulating him upon
his great and glorious successes iu all
parts of the world then l was GO
ing TO almost fall into her arms, ex-
claiming. "Behold, am he whom
your heart yearns for! But some ooe
came in at the exact moment and or
dered steak aud tea, SO that l gave up
the pleasant little episode that came
SO near happening at the very open
ing OF my dramatic career.
1t became necessary to report N.Y.
self to the manager al the earliest con.
venient hour; l sought him at his ho-
tel. found him in animated CONVEX
sation with the fret star Of the new
dramatic season at the-Theatre,
and with faint heart, and a spirit Of
humility that argues little for mans
manliness in this age Of the world,
approached them and announced my
self as the ill.fated Mr.. Blank, about
to make his first appearance on any
stage.
They showed no surprise at my dis.
covery they had both been Informed
Of my intentions some weeks previous,
aud had each taken my measure and
pronounced me . possible success on
any stage.
/ had recited few lines in . man
ner that convinced me my voice was
no longer the trusty organ l had re-
lied upon for some years past; they
had seen me walk, and were good
enough to classify my gait as tolera-
BILE they had watched me in my un-
conscious poses and accepted me in
spite Of them. had really nothing TO
fear, yet felt somewhat like carica-
ture Of my former self, and was in
state Of nervous suspense until the
call for rehearsal at precisely ten
O'Clock. A. n. Probably there is moth
ing more trying to the notice than his
first rehearsal. unless it be his debut.
Our theatre was not large one on
the contrary. it was cozy and home
like; yet / felt lost in it when the
company assembled in the front seats
Of the parquette, chatting, lonnging
in an indifferent fashion, or perhaps
studying their respective roles in the
more secluded corners Of the house.
The gentlemen OF the orchestra were
there, tuning their instruments, rum
ming through a few bars Of the new
overture, and making light Of the
serious life | was about to enter upon.
Need add, they were none of them
prodigals!
1t was dull business three jets of
gas ran out their yellow fangs from
behind the long row of footlights
brace OF carpenters powdered our
shoulders with dust and dry paint as
they shifted the absurd-looking scenery
that WAS 10 complete the illusion of our
evenings entertainment.
The prompter sat at a small table
in the front of the stage. and, with an
air of authority, summoned the ladies
and gentlemen Of act first, to come on
to the stage and proceeded with the
rehearsal Of the beautiful domestic
drama whose innumerable attractions
were but family Swallowed forth in the
small bills.
stage, looking very much bored; the
leading lady firted with the low come
dian, the heavy villain leaned against
the proscenium box and was supreme
ly happy, and the play began.
1t chanced to be the last rehearsal.
l was fortunately up in my part-I had
been cudgeling my brains for Fort.
night in advance. Most of the COM
pany was perfect or nearly SO, and We
recited our lines with as much freedom
and as little expression as one would
throw into a private resume Of the
multiplication table.
The humor sounded dat enough to
have discouraged the author Of it from
ever again perpetrating q pun; the
poetry of it was given with prosaic
indifference to all reflection; the trag-
edy WAS almost comic, and the eifec
tive situations alone seemed to call
for any special exertiOn on the part OF
the company, and these were looked
TO with as much earnestness as might
be expected in the devising Of gun
powder plot.
All this while q blush gloom pre-
vaded the entire establishment. Not
one ray of sunshine stole in TO gild
the gray spirit of the occasion, and
when at last, after three mortal hours
of inexpressiblc tedioussess, we we're
dismissed in body, and l once more
saw the light of day,-when return
ep TO the lite l seemed about bidding
long farewell to,-I hardly knew
what to do with the few hours of
emptiness left me before l should
have TO return to the theatre of my de-
| but.
remember l walked till was tired,
and sat till l could sit no longer 80 l
sought my room in the hotel, where l
fell upon my play book and studied TO
kill time; albeit l WAS letter perfect
in my part, and had been 90 for some
days in fact, it seemed as though l
had been familiar with the thing from
time immemoriaL
believe Ipassed that eventful af-
ternOon in . state Of semi-somnambu-
lism, out Of which did not entirely
waken until the fall Of the green cur
tain on the last act Of my first night.
l ate light dinner, with my stage
cues in my throat; l arrayed myself
in the costume of the evening with
considerable care, and repaired to the
theatre about seven P. n. where, to
my amazement, found most of the
members Of our company already As,
sembled and the majority Of them in
full dress in fact, We might have be-
gun our performance nearly an hour
before the time appointed for the over
ture.
The house was still dark and lit
tie cold. A half-dozsn people we're
lounging At the box Office, which, l OBJ
served, was not yet open; paced up