Birmingham age-herald., 1895-02-10

count on you to play it, and l was waiting with such impatience for them !, to bring it out. Paris was beginning to forget me in the long period l had been inactive, and had hoped this creation would confer a second youth upon me, renewal of past successes I studied hard night and day; finally I was ready.
 "One morning the boy comes running to me and throws his arms around my neck. Oh, father, how happy am; nm going to play Chattertonr Heknew as well as anyone the promise had been made to me, but in his joy he had for gotten it. Children arc so selfish in their happinessl This one dealt me the blow with laugh. He told me they had first thought of me for the part, but was too mature, too marked-ah! there is enough in such disappoint- ment as that to mark one, indeed! l am sure that in five minutes twenty years passed over my head. If the boy had uttered word of regret or tender ness, should simply have said to him: Do not play that part, you will kill mel and l am sure he would not, be- cause with 1t all the child loves me. But pride held me back. We talked of the part; he asked my advice about it; 1t had been lying on my table for two months, so now we read 1t together. gave him my conception oS how it ought to be played. From time to time he would break completely away from me and study line out for himself, and with surety of insight into the tastes of the public which no longer made where saw none at all. Posi- lively, one would have to undergo 1t himself to know what I suffered during that interview; but it was all as noth- ing to the martyrdom I have endured this evening.
 "Oh! ought not to have come, but I could not stay away. was ire sistibly drawn by curiosity and per haps-I am ashamed to say it-by the secret hope of surprising among the bravos regret, a remembrance for me; of hearing some one in the audience say Oh! If the elder Bloucourt were playing that!' But no; l have heard nothing, no word; they have had all they can do to applaud. But really, the boy does not act well, he is actually bad; certainly thought they were go- ing to bis funeral when they came on. He can't even walk well, he has no idea of stage department. In all that great, thoughtful, complex part, has he made a single original effect? No, he has simply thrown himself headlong into it with all the heedlessness of youth. Impetuosity is made to do duty for tall ent. For instance, in the great scene with Kitty, when Chatterton-" and here the poor man began to illustrate to me in detail his sons defects, imita- ting his intonations and his gestures. From the point of view of the science of acting, it all struck me as being very profound, very just, and l was sur prised to find so many false notes in the harmonious whole that had 80 pleased me. All of which did not alter the fact that we were interrupted every few moments by the sound of loud applause.
 ''Go on applaud!" said the unhappy comedian, turning pale at each out burst "Applaudl He is young. To be young, that is. everything lam old; my age is written on my face. Ahl how stupid it all is!" Then in low voice, as if talking to himself: What I feel is almost incomprehcnsible. 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 1t I cannot help loving him. He is my son, after all have nourished him, cared for him, taught him, and when hear them applaud him I feel a movement of gratifed pride in spite of myself There ara. some clever touches in the young scamp's work. The mistake was teach ing him my own calling. l should have diverted his talents in some other di- rection, thcnI could have been proud of him to my hearts content! should not have had the sorrow to see my thirty years successes wiped out by his first day of triumph"
 All at once he gave a spring. Good by!" he called out to me hurriedly in @ hoarse changed voice that frightened me. tried to hold him back. "Blou- court! Bloucourtl where are you go- ing?" He turned his convulsed face towards me, his eyes all glistening with tears.
 Where am going? To hug the boy, parbleu!"