Morris tribune., 1882-12-07
WHY SHE LEFT THE STAGE.
A Woman Disenchanted With the
Mimic Art.

rose, bright as summer day, and Just
as full of life and cheerfulness. There
was touch Of matronliness In her man.
ner as she sat at the head Of the table
when dinner was over, and helped her
two children, as bright as herself to
desert. Her husband sat opposite and
watched the little ones worry her by all
sorts Of atfectionate appeals, while she
looked up now and then and threw q
loving expression across the table. The
cigars were lit, and the children satisfied,
the lady rose and said she must take the
little torments to the nursery. AS the
door closed the husband spoke:
"You told me I should not be happy
because married an actress. What do
you think of this?"
1T is perfectly charming. She seems
to have forgotten the stage and every
thing connected with IT,"
"Oh. no, you were right there. She
has never forgotten 1t. She is still proud
Of those old notices, but the glamour has
fallen from her eyes, and she often says
she owes her happiness. as say I do, to
you"
How so?"
"You wrote an adverse criticism of
her once and | was on hand to take ad
vantage Of it."
Il don't understand you"
Here she comes. She Will tell yor
the story herself. was just saying that
we owe all our happiness to him." said
he as his wife entered.
Indeed we do. I've brought the
book here to show you"
The easy chairs were drawn up to the
fire and the wife, seating herself on
low stool, opened the book and pointed
to one of the last notices pasted there.
There it is. I have never acted since
then. You would like to hear the story?
| will tell it. When I was girl | had a
nice figure, nice voice and, some thought,
a pretty face. I had wonderful COM
mand Of spirits and was full of fun.
Such a girl takes naturally to comic sing
ing and dancing. and used to amuse my
plavmates with all sorts Of performances.
Then grew fond of private theatricals,
and was considered quite an actress.
The encouragement I received made me
wild to 90 on the stage, and l used to
study all the soubrettes could see. My
great ambition wes to play Prince in
burleseue, but my friends would never
permit me to do it. At least there was
nothing for it but must go on the stage,
and did. | did not play in my native
place, but went to an adjoining city
and was engaged on trial. Never mind
what part played first. It was Betsy
Baker l think. At all events it was
quite successful. The papers gave me
fine notices, my engagement was con-
firmed and l was happy. had
kind OF a compact with this gentle
man at the time, and I need not
tell you that he gave me very little en-
enlargement on my success. I played
lots o, parts and became great favorite
with the audience. But strangely
enough began to grow tired oft. Even
laudation and applause did not satisfy
me: The real truth was that l did not
looked to me from the front. 1t SEEM
ed as if those people had nothing to do
but to walk on the stage and act for a
couple Of hours and all their work was
over. l found it very different. At
first as stranger I was treated very
kindly and courteously. With my sue
cess felt the spirit of jealousy all
around me. The politeness soon began
to wear off the encouragement every
body gave me as beginner was with
drawn as soon as l proved that I was
capable of acting myself It was a new
part every night, and when had an IN
important one it seemed to be the hard
est work to learn and to act it.
''As the season went on and the com.
pany began to grow familiar with one an
other; l heard around me language had
never been accustomed to. Men were
rude, woman were coarse, the life was
mixed, and neither men nor women
ch xr,l,o 1,S ~ IN
one another or themselves. sometimes
look back with shudder over what I
escaped. The scandal, which l gave NO
heed to, was, had to admit, passed upon
truth. Men talked like women about
other men, and women talked like men
about other women. / was too young
on the stage to feel certain of my iudg-
ment but could not see the necessity for
the Irritation that went on behind the
scenes, or the familiarity with which the
sexes treated one another. 1t, was, af-
ter all, reasoned, no business of mine.
All had to do was to keep clear of scan
dial, maintain my self-respect, and go on
in my quiet way. Buteven that was not
permitted to do. The low comedian is
always popular member of company.
and is generally supposed to be attached
to the soubrette. That was enough.
The female members of the company,
or some of them, envied me and every
little conversation held Off the stage
was re ported and retailed, with all the
coloring necessary to show me in bad
light. loved my husband then al
though it took reams OF paper and gal
Ions of ink to persuade him of it. He
came on once or twice to see me, aud
think now he was unusually sensible
because I knew if / had seen any body
hug him on the stage as he saw others
hug me, / should not have believed his
stories as he did mine. But there was
still some charm to be drawn from the
applause and praise, and l held my
peace. At last they put up burlesQue
and / was to play prince. was very
much excited about it at first, but when
got my handsome dress on felt Gu
rious sensation that did not like. What
WIS it like? When l walked on the
stage, in the first, act fell impelled to
put down the absent skirt. was not
cold; was not hot, rather, for tights let
in no air. Ny figure did not appear to
be 30 handsome as thought it was. l
began to think my limbs we're not
straight. My knees knocked together,
and / could not walk even like a woman.
/ felt was making guy of myself, and
as the audience applauded my entrance
the sound conveyed to me sensation
no otnsr applause ever did. 1t was not
the applause of enjoyment of my acting
It was tribute to my figure, an ac-
acknowledgement of kind of admiration /
felt was not honorable, was not credita-
BILE. It came from men who had no
ladies with them, and my enjoyment of
the burlesque was over. With asudden-
ess that took away my breath almost, I
came to my senses. was no longer q
modest woman. was no longer an at
traction save from my abandonment of
Ill woman's purity. could not sing.
I could not dance. I could not speak
my lines. I could do nothing but
think every man in the audience was
looking upon me as something I did not
wish to be. Next morning / read that
notice, and it clinched my misery. ALI
night long I had thought about the APP
pearance I had made. When / went to
J the theater, there were some letters.