The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1876-09-16

IL Is BAD enough for trapeZe per-
former to be hurled to death in the usual
way taken by that class of show people,
before a crowded audience and in the
footlights' blaze of glory. But it must
be particularly notifying to them to
meet with an accident and die all alone.
and still III the pursuit of their thrilling
profession. This was the fate of John
William Collier, an Englishman, who
had been several years in this country !;
n trapeze master. He was the father of
two young girls. known as the "Vaidis
Sisters. Their names are Laura and
Lizzie Collier, and they are respectively
fourteen and twelve years of age. and
very attractive performers. Their ia
ther had trained them for their daring
profession, and their mother travelled
with them, and they were as we'll and
tenderly cared for as they could be. sub
iected as they were to the nightly dan
gers of the flying trapeze. Their father
came on the stage with them and watch
ed them through their act with anxious
solicitude. He was q quiet. unassum-
ing man of about thirty-tive years,
weighing one hundred and thirty
pounds. and his mild manners made him
a favoritc with audiences, although he
acted only as assistant. Very few knew
his name, or that he was the father of
those pretty little girls doing dangers,
or that their ever-anXiOus mother was
standing breathless in the wings watch
ing with the eye of love every move
mcnt of her children in their mid-air
flights. The father was suddenly taken
away They had performed an engage
ment in Il theatcr, and were about NOV
ing to another city. Collier was taking
down his trapeze traps on Sunday, pre-
paratory to leaving He was somewhere
in the roof of the theater, and jumped
short distance upon skylight of thick
glass 1t gave waycand he crashed
through. He lay after the fall doubled
up ike ball and never spoke. His
skull was crushed, his brain wasting,
aud every bone in his body appeared to
be broken; but his face was neither
bruised, scratched nor distorted. His
staring eyes gazed up Mt the skylight as
he lay dying. His wife and daughters
were sent for, and were quickly ut his
side. Their distress was heartrending.
They folded Inn in their arms, kissed
his impressive face, pleaded with him to
speak one word to them, and vainly
tried to get one look Of recognition out
Of those wide eyes rapidly glazing in
death. Not one word or look! John
William Collier was dead man in twen-
ty minutes from the time Of his fall.
Then the public first knew the "Vaidis
Sisters" by name. Death rent the fam
| ~os1 oc,,n1o,. on1 ou~:., oo1 .vvso
Collier mourned their father. But it
seems very bad for trapezc performer
to die that way. 1t is like great con-
queror of thrones being kicked to death
by mule. But the Vaidis Sisters are
thoroughly trained now, and they will
be able to fight their way in the world
through tho skill their father taught
them, until there is another accident in
the family, for it is dreadful trade. u
A PRINTERS DREAM.-A printer sat
in his chair, his boots were patched and
his coat threadbare; while his face look
ed weary and worn with care. While
sadly thinking of business debt, old
Morpheus slowly round him crept, and
before he knew it he soundly slept; and
sleeping, he dreamed that he was dead,
from trouble and toll his spirit had fed,
and that not even cow-bell tolled for
the peaceful rest of his cow-hide sole.
As lie wandered among the shades that
smoke and scorch in lower Hades, he
shortly observed an iron door, that
creakingly hung on the hinges ajar, but
the entrance was closed with red hot
bar, and Satan himself stood peeping
out, and watching for travellers there
about, and thus to the passing printer
spoke: "Come in, my dear, it shall cost
you nothing, and never fear; this is the
place where I cook the ones who never
pay their subscription sums, for though
in their life they may escape, they will
find when they are dead it is too late;
will show the place where l melt them
thin, with red hot chains and scraps OF
tin. and also where comb their heads
with scraps Of glass and melted lead,
and if of refreshment they only think
there's boiling water for them to drink
there is the rel hot grindstone to grind
down the nose, and red hot rings to
wear on the toes, and if they mention
they don't like the fire, I'll sew up their
mouths with red hot wire; and then,
dear sir, you should see them squirm
while I roll them over and cook to a
turn" With these last words the prin-
ter awoke, and thought it all practical
joke, but still at times, so real did il
seem, that he. cannot believe it was all a
dream; and often he thinks with a
chuckle and grin, OF the fate of those
who save their tin, and never pay the
printer.