Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1880-12-25


Mrs. Meroyn has just sent your
things to the carriage and Mr.. Ham
bleton is waiting
Mignonne kissed her mother good
by with some wonder was mamma
going to grow we'll and strong? her
eyes were bright and a soft color
tinged her cheeks.
Mignoone thought she had never
seen Mr.. Hambleton so very grave as
he was during that short drive to
- Hall.
She'dressed in a tlutter of excite
ment. She was very human, poor
little Mignonne, and she was over
whelmed suddenly by the thought
that not one in the crowd beyond the
curtain would know, or care to know,
that she was not one of the st. Alloy
sious pensionaires upon their chart
ty, of which admirable society Mr..
Duffeiin Hambleton was president.
She bent to fasten the paltry sateen
slippers and her eyes filed with a
sudden rush of tears. And yet she
was not far from being as desolate
as they, for no one out there was in
terested in her triumph or failure.
The stage filled preparatory to the
lifting Of Che curtain. The manager
walked critically to and fro-a great
nosegay Of crimson roses in his hand
altering suggesting encouraging. He
came to a stand near Mignonne. She
was trembling in every limb, her soft,
dark eyes were full of tears. "Are
you frightened ?" he asked kindly.
"Stage-struck ~ was the loconic
answer, and Mignonne's eyes flashed
him a merry glance behind their
tears, but despite her brave efforts
one or two round drops rolled down
her cheeks.
He wiped them gently awsy with
his handkerchief, speaking soothing
ly, as to frightened child
"There, there, it is nothing, you
will be sure to come through it oil
right"
ut is not that" she said drawing
back from the touch OF those strong
white hands; sit is that out there
no one cares whether | succeed or
fail / am to them but one of the
st. Aloysious School for the Friend
less"
He put his roses in her hand.
81 meant to throw you these to-
night" he said looking away from
her; take them now and let them
remind you that out there one sits
who cares very much whether you
succeed or fall" and with some or
ders to the stage-manager he made
his exit.
Mignonne buried her hot cheeks
among the roses; her hands were
cold, her heart was beating with an
odd, new pain.
O, why was stranger so kind a
stranger, whom after tonight she
would never see again.
The curtain rose upon the green
glades of a woodland, festooned with
wreaths of parti-colored flowers,
moon light filtered down between the
leaves. A mad merry crash Of the
orchestra, presto the leafy soli-
tudes are suddenly peopled with the
flower spirits of the woodland and
together they hold high carnival.
Rainbow-tinted robes flash hither
and thither, the parti-colored wreaths
are plucked from tree and bower and
a fairy game of Graces is set in mo-
tion between a group Of dextrous,
white-armed athletes; scene after
scene Of fantastic, graceful revelry
and central in the gay carnival of
shifting, fairy.like figures fits one
in pink and crimson, a little restless
freely, with eyes that burn like
stars and q trembling mass of dark
hair, falling in splendid waves far
below the little waist. No wild, I'M
tanned merriment is hers, but the
fleetness and the shyness Of the fawn
combine in her movements, and the
unconscious, unreStrained grace OF
child, that wots not of thousand
eyes looking on.
In the last act where the flower
spirits dance in circle on the brink
of tiny lake, she breaks from the
band and, alone, In the heart of the
woodland chants fittle mardrigal
of infinite delight, not unmixed with
pathos, ending with pas d'ertose of
the little sateen slippers that Ellis
Ter herself never surpassed, and that
brought down the house in thunders
OF applause, with wild shouts of
''The Rose! The Rose I"
The little actress was so surprised
that she stood for a moment like a
child, naively regarding
the audience, then showed the heels
of her dainty pink slippers in an ig-
flight, never stopping I'M
til she reached the dressing room,
where, even then, she could hear the
deafening applause and laughter of
the audience.
Out into the snowy night Mr..
Hambleton led Mignonne, the flashy
rose-raiment slowed away in neat
bundle under his arm. 1t was but
L. Il e a