The Somerset reporter., 1895-03-14


completely away from me and study
line out for himself, and with surety
Of Insight into tho tastes Of tho public
that 10 longer possess be would find u
point Il h ma1e whore ! SAW none at
all Positively Gle would have 10 uu-
dergo II himself talnaN Nhat suffered
during that interview, tut IT Wa all a-
nothing II tn martyrd5u / have ui.
dured tins evening.
oh, ought not to have c9mc lut !
could not shy away | W. irrc-IRI.t
drawn by curiosity and pefhaps-I ANA
ashamed II saY it--hy the secret hup
Of surprising among tie braves a regret,
Il remembrance for Inc, Of hearing ,ume
one III the audience say, Oh, if the cid.
er Bloncaurt were playing thatr Eut
no have heard nothing, not "A word.
They have bad all they could do t. ap-
plaud But really the boy docs not act
VOL He Is actually bad. / certainly
Thought they We're going to hiss WEon
be came on lie can't even walk well.
He has no idea of stage department In
all that great, thoughtful, complex part
has he made single original effect:
No. He has simply thrown himself
hcadlong into it, With all the Needless
ness Of youth. lmpotuosity Is made IN
do duty fer talent For instance, IN tine
great scene with Kitty when Chatter
ton -
And here the poor man began to il
lustrate to me IN detail his son defects
initiating his intonations and his gcs-
fnrQs Er0taa the r1ittf e e '
science of acting it all struck mo as be
ing very profound, very just, and was
surprised to find SO many false notes in
the harmonious whole that had so pleas
ed me- all Of which did not alter the
fact that we We're interrupted every few
moments by the sound of applause, like
the pattering of hailstones, that reached
us from the auditorium and was iutcn-
sified in sorority by the quiet, empty
street
go on-applaudP said the unhappy
comedian, turning pale at each burst
applaud. He is young. To bo young
that is everything. | am old. My age is
written ON my face. All, how stupid it
all is" Then in low voice, as if talk
ing with himself; what | feel is al
most ineomprehensible Here is a boy
who has stolen everything away from
me-my name and my glory, who has
not even waited for me to die to step
into my shoes-and in spite of it can
not help loving him He is my son,
after all. ! have nourished him, cared
for him, taught him, and when | hear
them applaud him | feel "A movement OF
gratitied prize Ill spite of myself There
are some clever touches in the young
scamps work The mistake was teach
ing him my own calling. | should have
diverted his talents in some other dilcc-
ton. Then | could have been proud of
him to my heart $ content | should not
have had the grief Of seeing my 30
years successes wiped out by his first
day Of triumph.
At tins moment the crowd commence
ed to pour out of the theater. a muir
muir OF appreciation, an atmosphere Of
success passed from group to group and
| 10y way Of the silent streets was gong
to communicate itself throughout all
Paris. The old comedian was leaning
against Il pillar, his ear strained to
catch the commentaries of the last
struggling spectators. All at once he
gave spring "Goodby, he called
out to me hurriedly. tried to hold him
back. Bloncourt, Bloncourt, whero are
you going:' lie turned his face toward
me, his eyes sisteninP with tears.
"Where am ! going? TO hug the boy,
parbleu Prom the French OF A
phonse Daudet IN Short Stories.