The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1893-07-28

Inc audience became apathettc. Wnar
Was this the Dartmouth that had charmed
them in other daysi Why the poor fellow
was grotesquel He felt disconnected, but
not alarmed. Since his departure they had
missed the fire of the old school Of acting;
he would show them what it was!
The old patrons Of the theater whom he
knew uttered little EXPLANATIONS Of sur
prise. The newcomers began openly to
r1dicule. The rest of the company sulked
and gave Dartmouth his cues reluctantly
until he began to lose his assurance, little
by little He stumbled In a pathetic
speech-turned sentence into ridicule-
the parterre howled. From that moment
every word, every gesture, provoked tenn
pest.
Dartmouth felt a cold perspiration gather
on his forehead. Around him in the boxes
people were going out, and he murmured
pale with anger: "Ingratesl IngratesP'
AT that point In the play where he was
to fall-in faint after reading a letter
he could not get up until a machinist was
sent to help him. Then the Kisses rose like
storm. Such an opportunity to have fun
was infrequent in this quiet town, and the
crowd set up an awful racket. But Oar
zincourt persisted, though his eyes were
filled with tears-at last crushed by his
emotions he forgot his lines. He stood with
mouth wide open, hearing no more the de-
risire shrieks of the orchestra or the cat
calls from the galleries. The failure was
decisive, the play could go no further En-
terinR his dressing room the old comedian
tore his hair-reeling like a drunken man.
You've put us In n nice box" growled
the director, who nevertheless had lust
pocketed the receipts.
Darzincourt reSained his home In a
crushed condition. A whole life of glory
to end in this fatal defeat Still dressed he
lay down on the bed and reviewed the hor-
rible evening. No! he would not allow
himself to be beaten. He would fight
again. Could he leave the theater foreveri
Even with it's chagrins and notifications
he had need of it.
The handsome Dartmouth of the past
now duplicated and implored the director:
he did not wish to be paid-he only asked
to have a small role given him-a little,
very little role.
From motives Of economy they acceded
to his request-he was given the part of
servant and he set out to study 1t with all
the srdor Of a debutant.
When he came in. letter in hand, the au-
dience without reason, except that Of cruel
Joy, began to sing "Dar-zin- court-Dar-zin-
court" to a popular afr From balcony tc
orchestra rang the derisive sound.
"You see, my poor old man." said the
manager, you are no longer wanted"
And he-haggard, sinking-having tasted
again the intoxication of the theater, asked
himself in desperation what was to become
of him away from the footlights.
After that he asked only permission tc
Ia ~
archer of the palace, noble without impor-
lance. But they recognized him in the
midst OF the others, and the public accus
toned to having amusement at his ex-
pense filled the hall with noise and laugh
ter 1t was impossible to allow him to ap-
pear now even Us "supe." The little
house at the gates Of the town still smiled
beneath its burden of clematis and fresh,
green vines. but he came there no more.
All his life was bound up in the theater.
He was a martyr off the stagei He passed
his days in a corner Of the wings, having
no more the right to show himself In the
evening, however humbly. He wasted
away, worn by sadness and longing, wan
dering about through the dressing rooms
of the artists like an old dog whose hunt !
ing days are over, but whom no one will
turn away. One night the manager ap-
preached him with cruel smile Look |
here" he said, 1--WE are going to put on a |
new piece. In the third act the barking Of !
q dog is heard in the wings. You be the |
dog, will your"
Darzincourt took the extended hand lie |
his, trembling with JOY. his face transfig |
ured, rs he stammered out his thanks.
"A role" he cried. II shall have an
other roler'-Translated From the FrencL |
For Short Stories