Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-08-01
PERFECTLY ABSURD.

Il IL Il
$50 you wonder why a fellow with
my talent should have left the stage,
do you? Well, Ferd, I'm much obliged
to you for YOUR little compliment, so
Pll tell you my true reason, which is
known to but few people, either in the
profession or out of it.
1.-The last three years of my public
life were quite successful. Twas lucky
in having tip-top fellow for manager
Gus Bailey, an honest, square man,
who could keep his own secrets and
other peoples, too.
Like most actors, was not quite
satisfied to play the parts for which l
was best adapted; my "old men, pleas
ed the public far better than they did
me. preferred the Romeo business
and once in a while Bailey consented
to bill me for such parts.
''By one of those condolences which
really do occur now and then Murray,
our leading young man, broke his hip
Just at the time Mile. d'Esterre Joined
us, and |. having been longer in the
company than any other man, was
cast in his place. This made an enemy
for me of Lawrence, who firmly ex-
pected the promotion, but | cared little
for that.
Had the whole company been down
on me | would not have known it, for
it was patent to me as well as others
that our new star was quite well salts
fled with the change in her stage lover.
Lawrence was capital actor, but his
private life was not of the best, and
that was one reason why he did not
oct the vacant berth; occasionally he
would become too hilarious to be de-
pended upon and his understudy did
not enjoy a sinecure.
''How much you must enjoy this
'Pastime of an Hour Mr. Osmye!' said
Mile. d'Esterre to me.
''Why so?n | said in surprise.
Il always see you in the wings,
when YOU are not on the stage. through
the whole of this act she answered.
Il was hattered; this young and
pretty oirl with the fanciful French
name was an honest, supplemented
American girl without either iighti-
ness or prudery, and 1 was glad that
she took note of where | was | re-
piled, carelessly:
Lone must stand somewhere, and my
waits are very short"
..Do YOU know she added, sinking
her voice almost to a whisper, lit is "a
real comfort to me to know that you
are so near. dare say you will think
me very silly, but | never feel quite
easy until Mr.. Lawrence has stamped
on that burning paper; my dress is very
fluffy and
Have no more uneasiness," l said
truthfully. Il, too, dislike that bust
ness and | watch your pretty dress as
carefully as if | were your maid"
Il dared not say more nor speak in
too tender tone, for Lawrence had
drawn near and was scowling fiercely
at us. | fancied that he was not quite
himself.
The second scene in our play was a
hackneyed one. Lawrence, the un-
successful sutton, flourishes before his
lady's gaze the will her father had
made subsequent to the only one found
at his death; the one he had just found
rescinded the old mans bequest OF
great wealth to his daughter, provided
she married Sir Harry Vaughn Claw
rence).
''When she firmly and for the third
time refuses to marry him or anyone
but Jack Leslie (myself) he tears the
paper in his rage, thrusts the two strips
into a lighted candle, and, waving
them before her, cries:
$50 vanishes all proof that your
father weakly changed his mind! Nc
one but you and me knows that this
will was ever made, and as these
flames flicker and spread you see youl
ease, and luxury, and comfort disap
pear-disappear forever, unless yol
marry men
Then he throws the burning ends
of the paper on the floor and stamps OIL
them, crying;
Now let us see what is before you
Comfort with me or starvation witt
your plebeian Suitor.'
''As the days had grown into months
| had seen very plainly that Lawrence
and spoke our respective lines from
our hearts. Did Mile. d Esterre? How
| longed to know! Lawrence was
fascinating fellow, I was not; he had
fairly good social position, and | wa
supposed to have none; he had a goot
income besides his salary, had moth
ing.
mo one in our company knew m,
history, but | will tell you the gist O
it now. Though l was billed as Ma,
Osmyn my lawful appellation wa
Henry Osmyn Maxwell; my grand
father, who was very wealthy, had an
nounced his intention of making IN
heir to most of his property, but afte
years of kindness and indulgence b
cut me off without shilling because
refused fatty to marry the grand
daughter of one of his cronies, an oil
reprobate whom | detested.
''Of course, Lawrence did not knoN
it, and the numberless ways in whic
the cad tried to teach me my place
socially, were very amusing. | scorne
the fellow too much to feel angered a
him.
This night when Mile. d'Esterr
had confided her anxiety to me [ wa
even more watchful than before.
imagined that Lawrence was UNUSUAL
excited Ct learned afterward that sh
really had rejected him in earnest th ;
afternoon) and threw much emphasi
L &c.