Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1875-07-16

NSAAs "hteo uiet yoo tiiAhh VI ehuo.
asked her companion, Bessie Burrows,
as they came out of the church togeth-
er. "Isn't he splendid"
"Oh, yes, it was terrible. 1t quite
terrified me! o, Bessie, are we all so
bad as that?"
'.As what my dear:'
''As he said we were-all of us. Is
it So bad to be on the stage?"
.0h, NONSENSE! What does he know
al L it? | didn't care for that part
Ge.ssrmon ri sll !. theylall ts1k in
thai kind of way-and much they know
about it. Let them talk. 1t is easy
talking; it doesn't hurt any of us"
"Didn't it hurt You, Bessie"
Not bit. What do | care? |
must live, and | am not doing any
harm, and all the parsons in the world
shant persuade me that | am wicked
when | know | am not"
George did not follow up the dis
cussion. There would be no use in
trying to explain her feelings to this
sensible, easy-going, matter-of-fact
girl: and George shrank from having
her newly-made conscience exposed,
Just as she would from something that
hurt her modesty. For she reall " was
a very modest girl, though she played
the part of Il pantomine princess.
She was very silent all that evening,
and thought great deal in her own
way. She trembled, too, and all the
future seemed lurid and fearful.
Next morning Rev. DIR. Shell
ton was seated Mt his study. opening
letters as he could, tearing up some,
hastily answering Others, and putting
aside others again.
\ young girl with vail over her
face, neatly dressed, but unmistakably
poor, came to see him. She had a sin.
gularly graceful, gentle presence; and
she came in the room in tremulous
timid way, which was itselfa touching
appeal. Mr.. Shelton was at onee pre-.
possessed in her favor. lie rose po.
litely and offered her a chair. Judge
of his utter amazemeut when she fell
upon her knees before him, and sob.
bed ont:
"uh, sir. | heard You preach yester-
day morning. and it made me wretch
d. Tell me--oh. tell me, cannot | be
saved :"
'.Get up, 10 begin WITH said Shell
ton, with a sort of kindly roughness,
purposely assumed. Il am not con-
fessor. and | don't want any kneeling.
Take chair and tell me what YOU
wtaI to sas.
George Wilson got up and accepted
his offer of chair. She raised her
vail, and the preacher ut once recog,
nized the pretty face which had look
cd up so pale and fearful when lie,
yesterday. denounced the stage. Ii
WAS just Us pale aud fearful now.
Yesterday" said poor George,
"sou preached against the stage
and actresses. oh, sir, | am an ac-
tress, and can | not be saved"
There was something in the naivete
of the question aud tone which we'll
nigh made the preacher smile. But
there was something~in it. too, that
touched him profoundly. Ii was the
appeal of a simple, true soul-and his
own soul was all truth and simplicity.
Now the Rev. Joseph Shelton had
never seen an actress on or off the
stage before. His idea of such Il crea-
ture had been that of something all
paint and brazenness or else of some
lustrous, Lamia-like beauty, merciless
to the souls of men. Here now, he
saw pretty, modest, earnest little
creature, only distinguished apparent
ly from other pretty aud modest girls
known to him by the greater sensitive
ness and depth of her spiritual nature.
Surely Le began, Il was never
rash enough or unjust enough even to
hint that there is any calling which
necessarily destroys all of those who
follow it. | spoke of the stage in gen.
eral-of its tendencies and its dangers.
| suppose the theatrical life is gener-
ally bad life
II suppose SO" said George, very
humbly and sadly. "1ou ought to
know, sir"
Now this was suggestion which
pierced the preachers manly and no.
BILE conscience somewhat keenly. For,
after all, what did he know about the
matter? Not only did he know moth
ing himself about the stage, but he did
not know anybody who had any great
er knowledge of the subject.
= "Well,' he replied, rather quickly,
'of course | don't know practically,
much of the inner life of the stage, or
anything in it, in fact. But | am con-
vinced that it is in general an unnatu-
raj and unhealthy life, and that it is
especially unsuitable for young wo-
men. | should be sorry to say any
more than this. | am not appointed to
judge any class of my fellow-chris-
tians."
Then he sat down and entered into
a quiet, friendly conversation with
George. He made her feel quite at
ease with him. She soon told him,
wondering not "a little at her own bold
ness in the awful presence of the great
preacher, the simple story of her life,
her fathers career, her mother widow
hood, their poverty, their struggles
and her earnings. Mr.. Shelton was
greatly interested in her story, and
asked her to come again and see his
sister, and promised that his sister and
himself would 60 to see Mrs. Wilson.
"You would not be unwilling" he
asked, ''to leave the stage and take to
some better-at least some othey way
of living-if suitable occupation
could be found for you?"
81 would do anything, sir, not to be
wicked, and not to lose my soul, if I
could keep my mother and myself and
pay the rent. | used to like the stage
always until yesterday. Now l am
afraid of it-very much afraid. |