Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1877-07-09
NO. 100
MY FIRST LOVE.


elder pupils at the Miss Audiews estab-
lshment, and once (but that was when l
was very young, indeed) with the cook.
This. however, was much more roman
tic and desperate affair. The lady was
columblne by profession. and as beautiful
as an angel. She came down TO our neigh
borhood with strolling company. and
performed every evening in temporary
theatre on the green for nearly three
weeks. | used to steal out after dinner,
when my father was taking his nap, and
run the whole way, that might be- in time
10 see the object ot my alteration walking
up and down the platform outside the
booth before the performances commenc-
ed. This Incompatible creature wore
blue petlicoat, spangled with tinfoil, and
wreath of faded peoples. Her age might
have been about forty. / thought her the
ioveliest Of created beings. | wrote SON.
nets 10 her-dOzens of Mountaineering to
leave them at the theatre door, but never
finding the courage 10 do it. / made up
bouquets Tor her over and over again,
chosen from the best flowers in our neg
lected garden. but invariably with the
same result. hated the harlequin, who
presumed to put his arm about her waist.
| envled the clown, whom she condescend-
ed to address as MIR. Merriman. In short,
| was SO desperately III love that even
tried To lie awake ut night and loose my
appetite; but l am ashamed to own, failed
sgnally in both endeavors.
AT length wrote 10 her. can even
now recall passages out of that passion
ate epistle. we'll remember how it took
me whole morning to write it, how
crammed it with quotations from Horace
and how l iondly compared her to most
of the NEUROLOGICAL divinties. then
copied it cut on pale pink paper, folded it
IN the form OF hearl. directed il TO Miss
Angelina Lascelles, and lett II, about dusk,
WIN the monry-taker at the pit door.
signed myself, ii 1 remember rightly,
Pyramus. What would | have not given
that evening 10 pay my sixpence like the
rest of the audience, and least my eyes
upon her from some obscure cornor What
would not have given 10 add my quota
10 the applauseP
could hardly sleep that night; could
| hardly read or write. or eat my breakfast
| the next morning, for thinking Of my let
| ter and its probable effect. IL never once
| occurred 10 ME that my Angelina might
possibly find it difficult 10 construe Horace.
Toward evening escaped again, and flew
| 10 Barnard's Green. 1t wanted nearly an
hour TO the time OF performance, but the
tuning OF a violin was audible from with
in, and the money-take was already there
with his pipe in his mouth and his hands
In his pockets. l had no courage TO ad-
dress that functionary; but fingered In
his sight and sighed audlbly, and wan
dered round the canvass walls that hedged
pu ha n
out ot his mouth, and his hands out OF his
pockets. surveyed me deliberately from
mead to loot, and said:
"Hollo, there amt you the party that
brought u three-cornefed letter here last
EVENING""
lowued it, falteringly.
He lifted u fold in the canvass, and gave
me gentle shove between the shoulders.
Then you're to 60 in," said he, softly.
Shes there, somewhere. You're sure to
lind her."
The canvass dropped behind me, and
found myself inside. My heart beat SO
last that | could scarcely breathe. The
booth was almost dark, the curtain was
down, and u gentleman with striped legs
was lighting the footlamps. On the front
pit bench. next the orchestra, discussing
ot brown jug, sat stout man in shirt
sleeves and u woman in cotton gown.
The woman rose as l made my appear
ance, and asked. clvilly enough, whom l
pleased TO want
| stammered the name of Miss Angelina
Lasceles.
Miss Lascelles. +" she repeated. Il am
Miss Lascelles." Tnen. looking at me
more narrowly, ~ suppose" she added,
you are the little boy that brought the
letter ?"
The little boy that brought the letter
Gracious heavens And this middle-aged
woman in cotton gown-was she the An
geiina of my dreamsp The booth went
round with me, and the lights danced be-
fore my eyes.
"If YOU have come for an answer" she
continued, "you may just say to your Mr..
Pyramid that am a respectable married
woman. and he ought TO be ashamed of
himself: and as for the letter, | never
read such heap of nonsense in my life
There you can go out by the way you
came in and ii you take my advice, you
won't come back again"
How looked, what | said and how
made my exit, whether the doorkeeper
spoke 10 me as 1 passed., nave ho iuea 10
this day. ouly know that flung myself
on the dewy grass under great tree in
the first field came TO. and shed tears OF
such shame. disappointment. and wound-
ed pride AS my eyes had never known be-
| tore. She has called me Il little boy. and
| my letter heap OF nonsense She was
elderly-she was ignorant-she was mar
ried | had been fool; but that knowl-
edge came too late, and was not consola-
tory.
By-and-by. while l was yet sobblng and
disconsolate, | heard the drumming and
fling which heralded the appearance of
The corps dramatique on the outer plat
torn. l resolved to see her for the last
time. l pulled my hat over nv eyes.
went back to the green, and mingled with
the crowd outside the booth. 1t was
growing dusk. l made my way to the
foot of the ladder and observed her mar
rowly. | saw that her ankles were thick
and her elbows red. The illusion was
all over. The spangles had lost their las
tire and the poppies their glow, no long
er hated the harlequin, or envied The