Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1898-01-07

III NIdu way was ~ 81 ullCItDU from
any other voice he had ever heard? 1t
stirred his heart He felt his check
flush, and when the stranger, with n
smile which lit up his face like burst
of sunshine, held out his hand to him
he could scarcely refrain from kissing il.
Are not you II player" asked the
stranger, "Havo l not seen you these
many nights at the playhouse in Nassau
street,"
I am only player, sir, " said Peter
modestly "Truly you must be fond Of
the play to come SO continually"
"Not so indeed, said the other, with
an inpatient sigh. cit may appear
strange when 1 say do not like the
play and think it an ignoble occupa-
ton for man to make fools laugh at
so much week. Each man to his taste. -
II am sorry, " said Petcr-and indeed
he was" that we may not ask strangers
behind the scenes, but so it is, for you
might like to see how curiously dull is
the soamy side Of a players life. But
may we not meet AGAIN." he asked i'm
pulsively.
Peters subdued earncstnosS was more
than factoring, and he was a handsome,
sunny eyed lad in spite Of his dandyism.
After moments thought the stranger
took his hand.
Let it be So young lad. Tomorrow,
then, at O'Clock at the Kings Arms, -
he said
"Thank you, sir, and very good
morning to YOU" said Peter, with his
best stage bow. He rctraccd his steps,
very well pleased with himself and
with the world in general
''Success attends me, " he Thought
"Now will he turn out hero? lie is a
proper man indeed, and with no com
mon history, I'll he bound "
That night the stranger was again at
the playhouse, and the next evening at
the appointed time Peter walked up the
street leading to the Kings Arms, Il
coffee house patronized by the patricim
class. He had taken particular pains
with his toilet. His wig, neatly comb
ed and curled, was tied with new rib
bon. He had also sewcd fresh ruilcs
around the frayod edges of his sleeves
and turned the silver hatbaud best side
out.
1t was quite dark, and the lanterns
suspended from the houses were being
lit along the narrow up hill streets He
quickcncd his steps a. he ncarod the
coffee house, for he saw the familiar iig-
ure i'll the long cloak and scallop hat
standing i'll the gray moonlight, the
white turbaned Hinduo erect and tire
less by his side.
As they pushed open the two loavod
door and entered, a CHEEKY scene greeted
them. Small, social looking tables and
benches were scattered about the bare
ly furnished room. y large fire Of res
nous logs burned i'll the tiled fireplace,
throwing a dazzling light upon the
sandod floor. Near it stood the glistcn-
ing coffee and tea pots. Men were gath
cred in laughing groups about bar in
one corner, drinking ale from long
mugs. Others sat reading or confidu-
TALLY ConveTsing at the different tables.
One of his majcsty's players near the
fire was singing Il catch, which "a few
of the merriost gentlemen appreciative
ly applauded:
"Hcy, nonny no!
Men are fools that wish 10 die.
ls't not fine To- dance and sing
When the bells of death do lingS
ls't not fine to swim in wine
And turn upon the toe
And sing, hey, nonny no,
When tho winds blow and the seas flow?
Hey, nunny mol"
Passing slowly between the scattered
groups, Peter noticed his new friend
looking into the face of every man with
the quiet, intent eagCrncss he had no
ticcd before, and he wondered what it
could mean His gaze was too meas
urcd, too direct, to be accidental, and
some Of the men who encountered it
lifted their hrJWs, looked Curiuusly aft
er him and fell to whispering with one
another.
Let us sit in yonder dim corner and
have dish Of coffee together, " said the
stranger, throwing back his long cloak
and taking the seat which faced the
door.
The Hindoo stood behind him, his
arms folded on his breast and his SOM
Der, unreliable eyes fixed patiently
ahead. Peter glanced at him once, and
cold feeling Of apprehension stole over
him. For whom was he waiting? For
whom was his master looking? What
was the secret they guarded in common?
"Now, l pray you, tell me your
name. 1t is meet we should know some
thing of each other" said the stranger
"My name is Peter Ricket."
"And your ageY continued the other,
looking dreamily at him as the serving
man placed the coffee before them.
81 was IS on last Twelfth Night. "
"Do you never grow weary of play
er's life:"
SIN faith do, sir. l would rather BE-
a gentleman, said Peter laughingly.
"Well, and you can. like you. 1 be-
lieye in you. need secretary on my
estate, to which l return shortly, Come
and be also my friend" said the
stranger, laying his white, scholarly
hand on Peters and smiling into the
lads astonished face.
"Ah, SIR" said Peter warmly, 81
would desire it above all things, but
my learning is small. command IA ri
diculous penmanship
"What matters that?" asked the
stranger and then continued with a
new earnestness: Upon the stage your
face and voice attracted me from the
first. Something in your personality ap-
peals to me powerfully. You are SO
glad, so young, so like what l once was,