New-York tribune., 1883-03-18
THE ACTOR'S STORY.
p,,oDi TjuS.

THE ACTORS STORY.
| From Time
| Charles Dillon, who was born about the year
| 1920 and who first commenced hls theatrical ca.
reer about ten yearSlaier in the Mlstletoe Bough
NAV be said to have belonged to the past genera
tiou His earlier peIieDCes were gained IN " those
good old times when journeys were long. tedious
and expensive and the rate of postage so serious IA
consideration that being out of an engagement was
no pleasant prospect. More lEan one tTagedlan Ol
| my acquaintance has been known, under cover OF
night to limp into some elvepy little town with his
small amount of properties il hls carpet-lag-nlr MS
| almost everything else except am6lilon. nave
often heard charles DlIipn ueserlpe pen III" "leh Il
young man, he had 10 make one OF those loot Jour;
neys. He had accepted an engagement 10 PLAY hdd
| in small country town, and such was the pauper-
lied state of his purse that he had no alternative
| but TO walk. and so lie set out at once. The
weather was not inviting nor his apparel over warm
| Tor the of the year but he WAS young, en-
thusiastc, and as he was about TO play Gd IOl the
first time the poverty OF tho present was lost IN
the gor, of the ure! ArrI gcd, completely worn
out, at his destination he optalned lodgings ~ a
| quaint little shop, owned by plump little baker
no was not unlike the plump little loayos eAhib-
| tied in his own window. The baker was ms O"n
master. jonrneyman, errand-boy aud all. lie had
| round fat, good -humOred face from which twil-
/ kled pair of large laughing eyes; while his vile
| WAS perfect little dot OF woman, with almost
the Same round. merIy face aud the saIue kind OF
| eyes as the husband only that now and again the
| merry look sofiened into mothcTly light a. she
watched. unseen, the young tragedian IN The WOst
practical and unpOetic way demoshing a per
feet tow OF toast and ham and eggs, to say moth
| ing of many deep refreshing draught Of tea.
Young Dillon soon found that tine theatre of the
| olace was locked upon by the Inhabitants gener-
| ally as a sort of haunted grange, aud that u was
| left accordingly t. rauk grass, damp mould and
| cobwebs. In the daytlm 10 was stunned. mt at
night no superstltOus peasant ever avoided ghOstly
tower more completely tban-with a lew exceptions
-dld the people OF that far behind -the-age little
| market Town This was not a brehf prOspeet for
"tragcdans Of the City, sthl they determined 10
perseyere in the hope OF eventually roV ng sI cess-
ful Dillon very sangnine; and ootu the little
paker and his wife belped him to look forward to
better times bv the cheerful way In which ibey
spoke of the future. At last, however, lie began TO
| lose heart. The sum he owed them for bOaId and
| lodging was beginning TO look heavy, Yet their
| manner TO him never changed the same fafe was
placed before blm with the same genial smile nom
the little lai dlady while the baker always greeted
| him ith the good humored grin and cOmical
nod. Had they wa, ered 10 the slightest from ther
| gen raj bearing, had thev changed even ior mo
ment he would have been better pleased bat IN
slead of lhls they were always the same and such
unvarying goodness of heart made him feel the
| hepe-sness OF his position all the more.
| AT last 1t seemed as If the prophecies OF better
| business about TO he fulfilled lhe manager
| had by some peculiar process known only TO HIM
self, found vulnerable point In the Mayors Dig
nItied armUr. and bespeak wan the result Dillon
had IN Imagination already paid his bill. ana, after
| travelling abont the streets eyeng me various
| shopwindows. had IN fancy TO show the fulness
and gratitude OF heart toward his landlord and
| landladv, bought them each appropriate presents
But OIL the arrival of the night IN question: 10 the
| spell was broken, the dieamors were reused from
their golden sleep, for, with the exception oi the
than usual and tic play chosen for the occasion
| was "a comedy
That night Dillon, with the rest, left the theatre
with his hopes completely crushed and broken
down that be could not face hs home. The thOnght
OF tie CHEEKY aspect OF the place aud the uncou-
planning patience OF the kindly couple was too
| mnch for him, and 40 he tuned hIs stops where
waing night winds, sullen black clouds and spec
tIa trees offered him companionship more suitable
10 the haggatd st ate OF his feelings Win ms SENSES
| IN - sort OF stupOr, lie wandered up and down
roads aud cross roads lanes aud by.lanes TIL worn
ont and numbed. the fist streak OF day onnd hun
leaning upon the low parapet OF little rustic
| bridge which arcEed the noisy iiOu OF II khallCW W
| stream. Yielding to the meSmerc influence that
water always had over him, he watched the eduy-
| ing current as 1t lcapPd along aud gave himself
| completely mp to the grim jaler OF his thoughts.
TIL at last fitiul and restless sleep sezrd upon
| him. This sleep. however brought no soothing
balm TO his mind, for as he leaned there with his
head bowed on his crossed arms, the vision OF his
landlord. and worst of all his andlady rose before
him. demanding with angry violence the payment
Que 10 IheE The more he pleaded The more they
raved and heaped his hoad with scOrniul epithets.
| Then the surroundings suddenly changed, ana he
! was in deep aud lonely cell. dark and gloomy AS
| his Ow thoughts. Again there were the reproach-
full faces of his landlord ana landlady peellLg at
| him from the grating. At length something
| touched him, when, with start. ho WOKE ara
found himself in T. brOau daylight with the uttle
baker standing beside him. lie had been his morn.
ing rounds and une pectedly come upon his truant
lodger. Without "a word he twitched Dillon b4 the
| sleeve, and both turned away, Dillon walking by
the side of his captOr with all the air oil culprit
cCncealing well as he could the gives upon his
| wrIsts, Nut word was uttered by either TILL
| reaching home, the little baker entered the cosy
kitchen with IL bright hearth and ow Oi comfort.
and pointing to where bis wiie sat her face pale ana
sad and her eyes wet with tears, sa :: Never been
to bed all uight-never cried so much since We lost
our little it cruel to treat like that, SIR
cruel" The little baker as If poor Dillon had been
refractory child, leu hn TO the warncst corner OF
| the room where the table was laid with his las
| nights supIeT. "Never mind SAID the little
woman, with Joyous laugh, as she dried her eyes
| the bad BOYS come home again. and please TO
remember sir, this IL your II me till better one
turns nd" So sayi ing, sue brstled about with the
coLr once again in heI motherly face, and as II her
suadsn flow of spirit infectious the whole room
seemed to Dillons imagination 10 ok brighter aud
BONNER The pan was soon spIuttering on tne hre;
the kettle sang coffee steamed, tho Toast looked
more mountainous than evor. as poor llIlion WIN
| " Bless you mother" quverlnR On his lip, 1airly
| broke and wept like baby
| MANY wears after wheu fortune had changed and
he was the successful lessee OF the Lycenn, ne was
one night slipping through tho usual crowd Oh
| iders and tho curious into his DI0ughan Wnen
yOice. with more emotion than grammar, cried
"Thats himw Something III tho tone OF Volce
took his miad pack TO that quaint little couple
before him, with their neaGs whter but their races
kindly and genial ever were his OLD Landlord
and lapdady Dillon drove to tho end or the street
and got out and waited. Soon the pair passed hlin
and he followed In the shadow. For long time
they did not speak, till at last the little woman
said, In a sad voice. He didn't know Ms, John,
and vet he saw u.s." Bat buadenly there was
lush, squeezing of hands, and utterlng Of )oyons
exclamati.ns; and that night. In one OF tho best
rooms In an hotel in the Strand three people mado
merry; tho old kindness and love were born again.
and whom they parted the same motherly voice,
Though In different tones said "GOd bless him, he
hadn't forgotten rs after allF