The Mena weekly star., 1897-01-20

tie two-wheeled chariot. Seizing the pole, he pushed it vigorously before him to the other end of the corridor and back. Ut is Floriac's carriage he explained, simply.
 "But," said I, The came on horse back"
 "Yes, on account of his whip. Did you notice how he carried his whip? He would not have played the role but for that, and had two of his phrases changed to explain that a carriage awaits him at the park gates. The cnr- riage is indispensable, for he has to carry off the countess in it, and it must break down presently when they are lsurprised by the storm. But I was in- terrupted. What was I saying?"
 You were telling me of your success in tragedy"
 "Oh, yes. I played tragedy in those days. But as 1 could not get on at the Theatre Francais and was offered a fairly good engagement at the Odeon, devoted myself to drama have ere ated some very important roles with great success. It was success that killed me. After having played Fontc- noy in Les Forcats' more than 30 times in Paris, had to play it everywhere i'll the provinces. It was very unfortunate. | When you are made too much of in the provinces you stay there, and mean while some one takes your place here. And then time passes, and you marry. That is what 1 did" Here Roseval's | febn To tr,, that he tried to make debonair: "A love match, sir-would you believe t?"
 Why not?" said I. "Actors make many conquests."
 'It was easy enough, in fact" he replied, sadly. "She was the daughter of one of my old comrades, an orphan without penny. l almost brought her up. l fed her, 1 clothed her, I taught her all I knew-more than 1 lnew-and one day asked her to be my wife"
 "Is she dead?"
 The old prompter looked at me fixed 1 ly. No, sir, she left me-" As he said this he seized a piece of sheetiron that was leaning against a scene and shook it violently. It was the storm he had spoken of.
 That storm comes in very pat he said, putting the iron back Tn its place, just as l was telling you of my mari tai misfortunes. You can imagine the storm bursting on my head. Mime. Roseyal disappeared one fine evening | with one of our most faithful patrons and I found myself the next day with three children on my hands," He went over to a wooden stand support ing the axle of cylinder, over which hung a piece of silk. The wind now," said he, and turning a crank, the fric- tion of the silk against the cylinder produced sound like the rustling of the wind
 "I fell ill.," he continued, "and when I left the hospital three months later, had lost most of my hair" He had taken up can of shot. This is to make the rain," said he. shaking II violently while machinist burned flash 1 lights in the wings. Thunder. rain, wind lightning-you see the storm is complete. And so it was," he resumed, that 1 came 10 personify the elements in the wings after having personated, l like Floriac here. the Don Juans of the stage. But one must live, sir, ami when one has wasted many months waiting for engagements that do not come, one is content to make i50 francs a month at this" and again shaking | his sheetiron: Just a little more thunder to end with. It pIeases the l Public-and my wife, too''
 This forced gayety filled me with pity for him.
 Perhaps your wife has more to com plain of than you," ventured.
 Morally, perhaps. But, materially. she can give me points. Comic opera pays pretty we'll"
 ''Is she on the stage?"
 "Yes. You must have seen her in Paris, some time ago. Oh, not under my name. She would blush to wear it though she has profited we'll by it. For if she has talent--and she has to whom does she owe it? To Pere Roseval, sir, to Pere Roseval, who was her only instructor. They praise her diction, and with reason. But who taught her? It was Pere Roseval, sir; it was Pere Roseval," and the old prompter trembled with emotion.
 Come, come," said I. ''calm yourself Perhaps your wife will come back some day"
 He laughed. "She had reason enough to come back when our baby was taken sick I wrote to har tban +b;nI,i,..