The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-11-17

was on. Raw gaslight flooded the stage
and showed the auditorium beyond, q
shadowy pit that echoed every word.
Tom stood near themanager, the prompt
book in his hand, interlining it with new
suggestions for stage business and some
times altering a line to be more effective.
He was accustomed to the theatre by
| this time. For two weeks he had been
coming and going, spending much of his
| time among scene painters and holding
long interviews with the manager. He
no longer felt resentful at hearing the
text slurred at rehearsals and only the
cues given with distinctness. He was
accustomed to seeing the players go
through the business" like automatons,
and climaxes his heart had stood still in
creating arranged with mechanical ex-
actness.
Tho skeleton of the players craft
without the simulated passion and hui
mor-the hardship and disillusion, were
| all familiar now.
The days were too short for all he
| found to do. and sometimes it was past
| midnight before he thought of returning
to Chelsea square.
The interrupted avowal of his love to
| Virginia had not been finished. But in
| a vague, happy way she understood that
even that must remain abeyant to the
success of his play.
Outlines the thought that it might
fail gave him soul sickness that i'm
FILTERED his food and kept sleep away.
1t was not enough to hear it praised and
feel its reality himself. The final YER
dict must come from the crowd, the
vague mass called republic, depending
upon its mood. What this would be
who could foretell? He heard on every
hand of plays teeming with promise that
had gone down like ships at sea with
flags flying and carGoos of gems on
board, of others Of Only doubtful value
that had made fortunes and established
regulations.
Doubt left him no peace, and the first
night of "Tbe Worlds Way" found him
with every serse quivering and alert.
Behind the scenes the air was freighted
with fever. Everybody was whispering,
peeping, specializing except Tom, and
he leaned against one of the wings wait
ing. He could do no more. Opallike
CLEANS of excitement fickered in his
eyes, nervous tremors ran through his
blood, and behind an easy smile his teeth
were clinched. He could not breathe
freely until the first act was over
Five minutes before the curtain went
up he peeped over the gasman's shoulder
and looked eagerly at the upper right
hand box. He saw Mr.. Kent first, stand
ing well in front leisurely surveying the
house through an opera glass us famil-
iarly as if boxes on first nights were
quite everyday matters.
A little more in shadow sat Virginia.
Tom scarcely knew her in the new gray
gown and the feathered hat with bent
rim. How pretty she was Happiness
was tonic that had softened every
curve of her face. Her eyes, dilated to
starry radiance, rested dreamily on the
still undrawn curtain. Her cheeks were
burning pink.
A'tenderness swept over his heart, and
the thought Of all she was to him rose
triumphant above every other feeling.
Was it not good to know that one in
that crowded house was thinking with
tenderness of him, not as the new dram
atist making bid for fame, but just as
'Tom," whose every hope was at stake?
Perhaps as they went home he might
whisper those three words that hold i'm
prisoned in their small circle the har-
mony of the world. He might tell her
in the crowded car, or for moment be-
fore parting in the hall. 1t mattered
not how or where if only he received in
word the assurance Of the belief that
she loved him.
The first few moments following the
tinkle of the bell he never remembered
clearly. Save for the rustic of the
prompters book there was absolute ST.
lence behind the scenes. The house was
as STILL On the hush voices swept to
him speaking the words he knew by
heart. The music commenced family
like tho distant sob of waves-a swaying
melody painful and sweet. Tom dared
to lift his eyes and watch the scene;
then by degrees the painful sense Of
trepidation left him, for this was the
pregnant action he had dreamed of.
These were the words fire laden, scorch-
ing, living-the passion that had put
on the garb Of reality-the humor, sweet,
surprising and irresistible. Sometimes
gust of laughter swept over the house,
intermittent applause that showed crit
ical appreciation, or dead absorbed ST.
lences.
But when the curtain fell sound
like thunderbolt leaped across the
footlights and made the scenery quake.
1t sank only to revive again, its clamor
swelling like a storm at its culmina-
ton. All, then he seemed lifted up. The
sound made him sick with delight. His
hour had struck
The players stood around him, a flush
ed, triumphant group.
cts CO."
"a hit"
"Went swimmingly. Every line told.
never played to warmer house."
Words like these, and the ,,ars;stapf