Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1898-09-01
II LAST DANCE,

The manager OF the theater shot,,
MS head d%oubtfnlly.
l don't know how our neon,a NIL,
take &c such a back number as that
my dear woman" said he "for 49,.
are devilish particular now. but Won
may Try IL and see. II you get an
honest encore the first night / will on
gage you for two weeks on NV own
nook, but the Bijou isn't a charitahIa
institution, you know, and won.t
promise anything"
The dancers lips trembled and for
a moment the handsome ewes were
dimmed with tears. But she tonight
back these signs OF emotion as enc
mad fought them back every day for
Inc last two years, and answered brave
~, though with a voice out OF which
all hope had long since departed
Thank you, Mr.. Rankin; that is all
! can ask"
Then she walked slowly from the
half-lighted stage to the dressing
foem, with a pain which nothing could
relieve tugging fiercely at her heart.
The manager looked thoughtfully after
her, as he cut the end off a cigar and
turned up his coat collar again.
Poor girl" said he, half aloud.
"shes a has-been-no mistake. And
to think that three years ago she was
the cream Of the lot. But that's the
way; some of 'em has genius and some
talent. The ones with the genius learn
new tricks, when the public has got
enough OF the old, the ones with only
talent can do it, and so they go down.
And that's all she's got-talent. I'm
sorry for her. but l amt the Creator,
to give her what wasn't born in her.
With which sage reflection the man
ager lit his cigar and walked back
to his Office.
The girl with talent only smiled a
wan smile as she got into her plain
street dress In the stuffy little dressing
room under the stage, and the cracked,
dusty mirror gave back to her uninter-
ested gaze the reflection OF that smilo.
IN her heart Of hearts for a long time
there had been the conviction that per-
haps her gift was not as strong as she
had first imagined. With a pride born
of necessity she had fought the thought
down day after day; but 1t would not
die, and now, in almost so many words,
the manager had told her that her day
was past" Yet she was young.
Only three short years ago Mile. Re-
vile, the petite dancer, had been hail
ed by critic and audience alike as the
daintiest and most brilliant OF terpsi-
choreans seen for many years; and to-
day she was unknown-begging for
work! Fortunes back had been early
turned upon the unhappy little woman,
and the troubles which had assailed her
had made their impress upon her usu-
ally pretty face. The eyes were tired
looking now, and the cheeks pale and
almost thin. The stage she had just
left brought back wildly her past in
this city, for had she not achieved her
greatest triumph in this theater? Here
the whole house had risen as one great
being and showered bouquets, fans, and
even Jewels about her golden head. All,
yes, that was a night long TO be remem-
bered-especially by a hungry little
dancer who had so soon dropped to the
level of commonplace in her profess
sion.
AS she picked her way toward the
stage door, along the dark passages AMI
in and around ghost-like pieces OF
scenery set or ready to be, she remem-
bered, too, the honest, kind-hearted
stage hand who had worshiped he