The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1881-09-13
THE NEIGHBOR'S BARN.

THE NEIGHBOR'S BARN.
When, q year ago, we produced at.the
Lyceun, as a first piece, the old Scotch
drama of "Cramond Brig" the various
members of the Company playing in the
piece had their choice Of wherewithal to
wash down their "heed and harrigles' -
of which, by the way, over hundred
were consumed during the run-and the
miller's supper became nightly jollity,
except, perhaps, to the Scotch nobility
and the Kings huntsmen, who, with
watery mouths and eager eyes, crowded
tho wings, forbidden by the irony of
dramatic fate to enter upon the scene
until the supper had hnen cleared away.
This piece had reminded me Of al i'll
cident which came under my notice q
good many years ago. In the off season
Of large provincial theater, i'll which
was stock actor, took on engagement
in small town, then known as one of
the most thriving seaports of the North.
The salary was little; the parts were
long. and there was not much opportu-
nifty for gaining renown. However, it
was better than remaining idle, as at
the worst, the amount of debt to be ac-
cumulated was minimised. The mana
ger was not a bad fellow, and having
been n good actor in his time, was only
too glad to be surrounded by class of
actors whose services he could only OBJ
tain by the opportunity afforded by the
bright summer-in those palmy days
the darkest and wintriest season to the
airy comedian or the thoroughly legiti-
mate tragedian.
Our opening bill consisted of CORA
mond Brig" 'Tlord Darnley," "Wnllace
the Hero of Scotland" and "Gilderoy,
the Bonnie Boy" in nll of which I
played, besides contributing my share
in the ".Nrtional Anthem" which was
right loyalty and fondly sung l,y the en-
tire strength of the Company. After the
rehearsal of "Cramond Brig" our jolly
manager said:
"Now, boys, shall stand a real sup
per tonight; no pasteboard and parsley,
but real sleeps head and little
drop of real Scotch" A tumult of ap-
plause.
The manager was as good as his word,
for ut night there WIS a real head we'll
equipped with turnips and carrots, and
the "drop of real Scotch"
The "neighbor's BARN." an important
character in the scene, came in and took
her seat as usual beside the miller's
chair. She was a pretty, sad-eyed, i'll
telligent child of some nine years Old
In the course of the meal, when Jock
Howison was freely passing the whisky,
she leaned over to him and said:
"Please, will you give me little?"
He looked surprised. She, was so
earnest in her request that whispered
to her:
"To-morrow, perhaps, if you want it
very much, you shall have thimble-
full"
Tomorrow night came, and, to my
amusement, she produced from the
pocket of her little plaid frock n bright
piece of brass, and held it out to me.
said, "What's this?"
"a thimble, SIR"
'But what an to do with it q
"You said you would give me thin
bleful of whisky if wanted it, and do
want it..
This was said so naturally that the
audience laughed and applauded. I
looked over to the miller and found him
with the butt end of his knife and fork
on the table and his eyes wide open gaz-
ing at ,ls in in astonishment. However,
we we're both experienced enough to
pass off this unrchearsed effect rs part
of the piece.
T filled the thimble, and the child took
it to her little "crecpy" stool beside tho
miller. I watched her and presently
saw her turn her back to the audience
and pour it into little half-penny snuff
box. She covered the box with bit of
paper and screwed on the lid, thus MAX
ing the box pretty water-tight, and put
it in her pocket.
When the curtain fell, orr manager
came forward and patted the child's
head.
"Well, my little girl" said he, "you
are quite genius Your gag is about
the best thing in the piece. We must
have it every night. But, my child,
you mustn't drink tho whisky. No, no
that would never do"
ooh, sir, indeed won't I give you
my word, won't!" she said, quite earn
estly, and ran to her dressing room.