New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1889-08-28
he SANK BACK COVERING HIS FACE.

he SANK BACK COVERING HIS FACE.
This was really going too far! Myunrea-
.soning reverence for this man was great
but my reasonable reverence for Shakespeare
was greater.
st would be sacrilege!'' I exclaimed.
DO you expect, sir, to succeed where
Shakespeare failed?"
A family quizzicat smile cleaned in his
eyes moment. Then he answered com
posedly:
He did not fail; he was careless. Did
say If l could rewrite it, 1 meant Shaks-
peare, of course'
All through the play was struck with
his lncessant and almost childish delight in
every detail OF the scenery and of the stage
machinery generally. He was delighted
with the admirable management Of the
witches cauldron and the apparitions, but
after moment of surprise he was more
witches and spirits, who sang tsOver Woods
High Rocks and Mountains, :" to Sir Arthur
Sullivan's music.
That is pretty but it is not SUITABLE he
SAID IN the tolerant tone which was appar-
emily frequent with him.
mo- it is too like a transformation scene
at a pantomime.''
"A pantomime?'' he repeated wondering
~. what is that?'
WI he Is s unable to conceal my surprise
eyes were fixed inquiringly upon mine, and,
swer.
GA pantomime?" said at last, rather at
loss Tor definition. Why, apantomime
IS IA children's play--all scenery and spec
tacle and dancing: Generally they are
founded on fairy tales.'
'Ah, possibly a kind of masquee" he said,
appearing to understand at length. Then
he added casually: s:You must remember
that am not acquainted with your modern
terms. have not seen a play for nearly
2SO years: Things are greatly changed
since my day."
I recoiled from him instinctively, hardly
able to hide the uncomfortable feeling of re.
pugnance which insanity inspires. The
next moment wave of regretful tenderness
swept over me. For the first time realized
| the full beauty Of the soul struggling tragi-
! cally to retain its ascendency over the dark
ness which now and then seemed to close
over the mind. In one short evening had
learned to love this man as a friend Of mary
years, and I could have wept with sorrow
Tor him, and passionate self-pity that had
gwen my love in vain In the selishness
OF my grief began to wish that had never
seen him.. L was silent SO long that he
turned to look at me-. and as he gazed his
| eyes grew wistful and serious. was CON
scious again of the eerie feeling that he
knew my thoughts, and as soon as he spoke
had no longer any doubt that by some
mysterious affinity between his brain and
mine he could read them. He laid his hand
on my arm and said gently and reproach-
fully, You are losing your faith in me and
you desire for my presence, II you do
| That you will drive me away. I implore
YOU to bear with me little while longer.
After tonight we shall never meet again.
| and II you force me to go now you will be
lnf1lct!ng greater pain and disappointment
than you can conceive on one who wishes
| you nothing but good''
There was something in his touch which
laid my seltishness to rest and recalled nv
better feelings. AS if he knew It's power, he
let ms hand rest for some time where he
had placed it, and looked into my eyes with
a half commanding, half-appealing express
sion. With a joy in submission which |
had never known before, / felt my own will
yielding to his stronger one. I had exor-
| cised my sadness and regret, and left me
conscious only of a growing love for him.
lie knew his victory, and smiled Il little
when at last he withdrew his hand s.You
nave done more for me tonight than you
SNOW Snow'f ne SAD nd gently; you will not be
He glanced around the audience. ''Tell
me, noW,'' he said, with rapid change of
subject, "Who are ali these people?''
Just an average audience I replied
glad that he had asked no question reuuir-
ing a mental effort in the answer, for felt
suddenly exhausted with nervous excite
ment.
"a nineteenth century audence.' he
murmured thoughtfully, glancing keenly
round as he spoke. 'And do they all read
Shakespeare!n
"All the educated and intelligent among
them do, Some of them come because it is
ate and have not read his plays But to
many of them his works are, as has been
well said, a lay Bible"
A flush that looked like grateful pleasure
passed over his face; but he made no an
swer, and after few moments the rising
of the curtain for the next act stopped fur
Their conversat He did not speak much
more through the rest of the play. One
brief comment on the sleep walking scene
pretty he said. but it needs more think
ing out The dreamy intonatlon is good,
but the words and actions should have
more energy"
In the last act he watched Macbeth
driven to bay and fighting against despair
with return or something like the ex-
element he had displayed in the murder
scene AT the close of the play, when we
rose together to go out, he fingered mo-
menJ to watch Mr.. Irving and Miss Terry
come before the curtain. and said with q
sigh as they disappeared, 81 would it were
possible to thank them for the pleasure
they have given me tonight They have
almost reached the playWright's meaning
How significantly the words, nearly the
last he spoke, have wrung in my ears
since. At the moment did not fully I'M
derstand their accent Of gratitude and long
ing
We descended the stairs together in
silence. was dreading the parting that
was before me- and, hoping that it might
not prove a final farewell, and yet re-
strained from giving utterance to my wish
by an unwonted awe and despairine con-
viction that any words of mine would be
poWerleSs to control events. In the crowd
near the door we became separated, and /
fancied that he passed out in front of me.
There was a thick fog; outside nothing
was to be seen but small semicircle Of
lurid, misty gaslight, and torches passing