The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1897-03-16
A KISS IN THE DARK.

entertainment for those who are.
Two cars approach, running tandem,
one with seats running lengthwise, the
other with seats running crosswise.
''Shall we take the front carp he
asks, in no amiable tone of voice, for it
had taken her just hour and 20 min
utes to dress.
''No, the last one. Everybody has
such an opportunity to stare when the
passengers face each other. Now, if l
were so beautiful that none could look
but to admire A low growl from the
depths of his mustache as he hands her
up to the rear platform of the car is the
only answer. Then he flashes look at
the graceful, white clad figure, the black
eyes and mass of raven hair beneath the
rose decled hat, but says nothing.
''That wide eyed girl across the aisle
reminds me Of a story read the other
day of New York man who was call
ing on lady in Boston She was a sort
of poster woman, with orange hair and
orange lips and a crimson bodice. Stay
ing with her was young girl from
somewhere in Missouri girl with
eyes set mysteriously wide apart-who
enchanted him with her singing. A
year later he met the wide eyed girl
again and asked her to sing to him. She
went to the piano and sang touching
little ballad that brought the tears to
his eyes. See, you have called forth my
tears.
Z" I would give the rest Of my life to
see your tears, she said, and then he
knew that the wide eyed girl was blind. {"
Where didsyou get that?" he asked
quietly.
"Oh, from one of those impossible
little magazines, 'Clack' or Clique,
Chap or Chip, she answered.
AS they are about to leave the car
the little woman across the aisle arises,
takes the wide eyed girl by the hand
and carefully leads her out. They look
at each other in silence.
They are late, Of course. Memorial
hall is a fiutter of pink and white, a
garden Of flower trimmed hats in a per-
fume laden atmosphere.
They are just in time to see Burne-
Jones Garden Court" in the legend Of
the Brier Rose, to the music of "She
Sleeps" Then as the usher points them
to the only two remaining seats-fortu-
nately in the back row-the curtain
rises again upon one of Bourgereau's
Madonnas, sitting with unblinking eyes
and reverent, uplifted hands. It is the
wide eyed girl they had seen in the car.
In the interval that follows a girl in
ivory white, bareheaded, down the aisle
exchanges few words with a lady in
black and darts back again, her glorious
hair framing her face in halo Of light.
ST believe she did that with pur
pose, Z" he growls.
How could one suppose anything
else? She knew, Of course, what the
effect of the light on her hair would be. !"
"Do look at that huge woman in the
blue silk gown. She reminds me Of
nothing SO much as a lazy, pale blue
cow
"Where? Which one?'
Second seat from the end, third
row"
As they look and laugh the female
bovine turns and casts look Of very
human scorn at them.
"Aren't you ashamed of YOURSELF"
eyes, I am. I wouldn't be rude even
to a cow" he remarks in an undertone
as he hides his unblushing face behind
her gauze fan.
Just then the directors wife, plain
little woman with sorrel hair, gowned
in yellow organdie, rises from seat a
little to the left and goes to sing a
Swedish folksong behind the scenes
while Won der Lippe's little son and
daughter pose in a Swedish fairy scene.
But he is not looking at the stage. He
is studying the group just in front,
demure little maiden, with pinchable
cheeks and nose that tits the least lit
tie mite in the world, and, oh, the dain
test little chinl The two men who are
with her might pass for twins but for
the fact that the one at the right wears
gray coat while the other is clad in
black. Yes, and he of the gray coat
wears a mustache.
"Well, what do you think Of herr"
she asks, observing his scrutiny.
eff the lights should all go out sud
denly, think 1 should kiss her." he
says thoughtfully while he gazes at the
bronze hair beneath the correct little
panama sailor.
"You wouldn't have the ghost of a
chance with those two men keeping
guard over her. I wonder If they are
both in love with her" she says, while
she catches sly glance from the man
with the gray coat He had heard every
word.
The directors wife, flushed and tri-
umphant, emerges from side door and
resumes her seat, unfortunately also
her hat, and the view of the stage is cut
off.
"Does the director paint?" she asks.
Then, before he can answer, Sometimes
they don't, you know"
"No, 1 suppose he sometimes doesn't, "
he says, with sidelong glance from un-
der his lashes.
sob, you know what mean. know
of one art museum director who never
painted stroke in his life, +" she says
while the wonderful green and yellow
moonbeams fall across the stage ON
Leighton's Summer Moon.
Then there is little farce, reprint
from life, of domestic infelicity, in
which all the actors do what they ought
not to do and leave undone what they
ought to do, and there is no sense in it.
The curtain man, as usual, drops the
curtain in the middle of the act and
raises it while the actors are staging
themselves.
Shall we go up and look at the art
exhibition she asks when it is over.
"Oh, suppose one is expected to, y
he says, with the air of a modern job.
They join the throng up the winding
stair, past the big painting of ever and
ever SO many chickens wading up a
muddy slope to their dinner while the
wind blows their tails all to one side,
past bronzes and marbles of handsome
Apollos, winged Psyches and armless
Venuses, while some one inquiries Sc
riously: "Why will they be SO careless
with their statuary? 1 don't believe I
ever saw Venus that hadn't one or
both her arms broken OFF,
Now head in charcoal attracts her
attention. She steps back to get better