St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1892-02-14
THE TRAGEDIAN'S STORY.
How the Curtain Fell With Deatf
Behind the Scenes.

Behind the Scenes.
You must not run away with the idea
that was always tragedian. Success
comes slowly in the ''heavy" line. L can
tell you; and I've mounted up step by
step in my profession. Comedy and
tragedy go hand in hand in this lite,
and | shall never forget the night old
Paul raymond died, says a writer in the
New York Dispatch.
1t makes Inc go all of a creep Just
now. and yet It's forty-odd years ago.
for | was mere bit of Il boy then. about
eight years of age. having made my first
appearance when l was only seven.
My parents were both professionals,
you see; so | was nearly brought up be-
hind the footlights. L made my debut
as Cupid. | should think about the best
boys part one could choose, and it's
made bachelor of me ever since.
L used to float through the air at
rope-end. and hated the suspense in
which L hung lowering over the drama
Anyhow, was promoted to tragedy and
played COra'S child. interSperSed with
some songs between the acts, persecut-
ing the public on every possible Occa-
sion. Poor Paul Raymond-he used to
call himself SCR. RamoDi-was the prin-
cipal clown at travelling establish
ment, and had to make himself gener-
ally useful by taking hand with the
trombone or playing the bass fiddle in
the Observation-Disclosures making twen-
ty-tive appearances in one day, includ-
ing his performance at the front of the
BOOTH when he invited the crowd to
walk up" acting as mOney-taker also.
We were once playing pantOmime at
fair, Babes in the Wood" or some
thing like it. Now Paul played the
violin in the first part. and was then
metamorphoseG into the clown. He
used to carry me about the stage in his
arms, and / was very much concerned
for my protector during the combat.
which L thought at that time was more
in earnest than it was merely acting. 1t
all looked SO realistic.
Well, we'd just finished the transfer
nation scene, and Paul, coming on as
clown, had to take flying leap through
the shopkeeper's window. He had been
in ill-health for some time, and it was
evident he was in a weak state.
He even trembled beneath my feather
weight as he carried me across the
stage. and when | came to the jump
he was is nervous as cat. One of the
other members of the company. think
it was the harlequin, cried out. Now,
Paul, old man, you've got to do it, YOU
know. You've done it many a time be-
fore. Don't funk, lad, the house is
fullH'
Well, he came back to the footlights.
did some comic business. worked up
the audience as usual. ran up to the
window, and SHE'D at it like a hunter
at gate, while the audience, as if it
knew all was not right, began to grow
restless.
"Jem," said Paul to the harlequin, 81
shall never he able to do it tonight
Seeing there was hitch, the fddlers
fiddled awav in the orchestra, and the
harleQuin'called to the clown: You're
all right, Paul. Make straight run for
it and you'll do it. You'll find drop O.
something to pick you up bit in my
can on the other side.''
The clown shook his head. looked
strangely across at me, and could see
his frame shiver with emotion
The eyes Of the house were upon him.
They began to hiss in front, and, mad
dened to take the leap-for the people
who had paid their money TO see this
part of the show, as we'll as any other,
were relentlesS-with look of contempt
at the gaping crowd Paul bOlted through
the window and fell, not III the arms of
the men who were to have received
him, but with loud thud upon the
floor, which sent Shudder through the
house.
The men had waited for the leap, but
finding he did not come passed around
to the wing to see what had happened.
just as the clown took the leap and feel.
Then there was a shrek from the ex-
cited audience, and rush, and cries of
He's killed-he's killedr'
And there he lay, with the men who
should have saved him bending above;
but it was too late. The life blood
oozed from his painted lips and soaked
his chalked face as he lay. whittier than
the chalk itself.
And he tried to say few words, all
could hear was, There's no pantomime
about this, lads!''
And he quietly passed away, with a
faint smile lowering round his redeemed
lips-reddened more deeply with mis-
life blood.
The curtain fell on tragedy behind
the scenes that night. 1 can tell you,
and L shall not readily forget my first
pantomlme.