River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1876-11-23
THE ROSE AND CANKER.

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The curtain rose upon q blaze of
light and splendor, and Clare Wealey
in the character of ''Undine," came
out behind the footlights and began
singing
al would were a Bird
Low and soft the orchestra accom-
panied her in a exquisite tangle Of
melody.
Her heart beat wildly, as it always
did, when she glanced at the sea of
faces before her, but growing en-
thusiastic as she went on with her
singing, she forgot the crowd and all
else but the rendering of her own plain
tive voice.
Sweet faces in the audience smiled
at her brilliant women looked on with
approval men raised their opera.glass-
es, and leveled them in admiration at
the sparkling, piquant face and pearly
shoulders.
She was small for the stage, round
| ish, girlish figure, but it looked quite
Queenly in her trailing, shimmering
white dress, covered with silver stars.
How had Glare come here
How does the wind sometimes blow
leaf out of the forest, and carry it
far out into the city streets
Had she parents Yes and no.
She had drunken father, who had,
years ago, ran away from her mother,
| and as to whose whereabouts Glare was
not particularly anxious to ascertain
her memories of him not being very
| salutary.
Her mother had been, for some time,
safe from her troubled life asleep
''under the mools,' as Clare's Scotch
ancestors had taught her to call it.
Had she relatives Yes.
She had her full share of uncles,
auntS, and cousins /: but Glare had early
| learned that. of all classes Of people
who expect the most from, and do the
least for us, it is those towards whom
we bear this degree of kinship.
She came to the city, and having
starved on sewing for few weeks, land
wilted in the inky air of a printing-of-
| flee for while, she was one day pass
| ing the manager of this theatre, and
asked him if he would try her on Sec
| ondaTy parts for while. The man.
| ager was used to all sorts of applicants,
all sorts of girls, and all sorts of faces,
from the brilliant star actress to the
faded, second. class danseuse.
There was a winning sweetness
about Clare that made her creep into
peoples hearts, and he hired her as
much for fancy he had taken to her
face as to any skill she might possess.
Clare began on very low wages, but
| putting SO much of her heart into
everything she did, she soon began to
be quite necessary acquisition.
She had good luck, which is only a
fancy name for the success that comes
to us, for being always at our post and
ready to do our duty.
She managed to live comfortably on
what she earned, although not belnga
great woman, she never tOook great
| part or received great pay.
4 She wasn't great singer, but she
had sweet voice, and often came in,
as she did tonight, to sing some SIM
| pie ballad amid quite shower of APP
| plause. Part of the time she was a
mermaid, sailing around in q mimic
sea. in a pasteboard boat. At the
matinee, in the afternoon, she would
be one of the "Babes in the Wood
| The next night she would be an angel
| flying off in thin space, with glamour
of pink and blue lights over her. In
! fact, Clare was so many things in such
a small space of time, that she had
begun to grow unsettled in her mind
as to what she really was but all this
| time she had kept her life as white
and clean az IN unwritten page, never
forgetting, among all her temptations,
the teachings of the mother under the
s'moOls."
| .sShe is woman, therefore to be
won," the habitues of the theatre
thought, who considered that women
who earned their bread and knew what
temptation was must be very easy
prey; but they did not know the reso.
lutte fiber in little velvet Clare.
She had grown used TO suspicion, and
/ although it had, at first hurt her to the
hearts core, she had grown to glory all
to herself in her purity, as a secret that
no one else would credit. She never
took wine or oyster suppers with the
rest, but, as soon as her part in the
play was ended, put her waterproof
over her stage dress and went home
alone in the dark, falling asleep in heI
lonely bed as soon as her tired head
touched the pillow.
Her home was no better nor worse
than B street; she had come here
because the rents were reasonable, and
it was a place where no questions were
asked, and where people troubled each
other for no particulars.
All kinds of life thrObbed on about
and beneath her. A widow woman
with a horde of children, kept the
laundry on the floor below drunken
man lived next door, who knocked his
cook stove and his wife over alternate
"; across the hall was thin, wild
eyed artist. who painted delicious lit
tie bits of still-life scenery--dark for
ests in which You could almost see the
leaves tremble; shady midsummer
pools where cattle came to drink ; de-
lightful ponds full of water-lilies, and
blue sky and yellow grain-felds.
/ lie had lived in the country when q
boy, and only painted from memory,
poor fellow as he was too poor to have
had breath beyond the city streets
for years.
He hadn't egotism or bravery enough
to face the world with his really skill.
/ ful pencil.
Sturdy little Clare, planning state
costumes and attitudes next door, had
more courage than he.
There was crazy old man in the
| building opposite, across the narrow
street, who sat aloft in his window
and played a long tune, each day, upon
an old violin-something about mis-