The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1898-08-21

stantly practicing. and then waiting for
me to second his self-laudatory efforts.
Conceit was not so much the base of this
as his distrust of himself. He wanted to
hear others speak well of him, and when
they did not, made them coincide with
his opinions.
STILL he was usually in the best of
humors and confident that something
would turn up. As his clothes grew
rusty and rustier, and his meals lew and
fewer. his drains became more frequent
and his 'bolste-ings' more constant.
''Oh, III have them all at my feet
Soon he would say hopefully in his
brighter moments, Il am bound to strike
il again" And then with an appeal that
it was impossible to resist, You think
I'll strike it again, don't your"
did not. Day by day his voice was
getting thicker and his step more slow
| and uncertain. His eyes were a bit wa
| terry, too, and now and again he would
clasp his hand TO his heart eonVulSively-
! One morning he did not appear at the
usual hour. and the seat he occupied out
| of Difference to 'the profession" nightly
in my theater was vacant that evening.
/ missed his patronizing criticisms of the
! performers. and hunted him up after the
! show I found him, as I did oftener and
| oftener during his last months. in a
| cheap saloon near by. somewhat under
the influence of drink. but more chilled
by the icy hand that was slowly creep
! ing over him.
When ne noticed me he looked up more
pleased than l had ever seen him. so
YOU want my advice" he said, in a sur
~ way that barely concealed the pleas
ure he felt at being of some use in his
old line of work. Cant you people ever
get on without me. By mine eyes, friend
but you worry me to death with your
questions
In a half hour he was up treating some
admiring comrades with my money and
his anecdotes were even better than
usual. but though he himself took very
little. 1 had to have him carried after
ward to the cot in the office of the thea
ter where he usually slept.
/ found him there on the following day
when / came in with an excellent piece
of news. A friend of mine was going to
give a benefit, and he wanted a man
TO nil small part with a death scene at
the end of the third act. l had recon-
mended Smith and guaranteed 10 find
him in time for rehearsal. The actor re-
ceived this information with happiness
that made his old face a picture. i
knew it would come" were his words.
And il has. We ancients are not for
gotten vet. This will set me right at the
top again. 1t was just what l needed
And he began to dress.
To give size TO the role ! made II my
business TO suggest one or two points, all
| of which he rejected almost angrily
Friend" he said, with a harsh ring IN
his broken voice, you can never nave
seen me or you would not speak so.
! When I get at a bit of work no one can
| do II better Do you remember that L
was the original hunchback in The Col
cen Bawn?'' l did not, and was glad to
] see. him stride-out of the door an instant
/ later without saying another WORD. ne
came back still more joyful i nave the
! fattest part in the show" he remarked
and though | knew it was a trifle, the
| only work in which was the death scene
l did not contradict him.
In the next week or so l saw nttle OF
| Smith He was shaving like Trojan al
| his lines and my friend told me that IN
| spite of his voice he was nos doing padiy
! AT reaearsals. On the whole, l fet rain
| er proud of him.
The benefit came off on THURSDAY night
! and there was a very large audience
| present. The manager was happy, and
everything looked well. His only fear
| was for Smith who had gone 10 drinking
| heavily a few days before, and had spoil
| ed the death scene at two rehearsalS-
| went back to advise him. but was met
| with a trust in self | could not put down.
| Have you ever seen me do this IN
his way Of saying it, was too much for
me.
| Two acts passed off nicely. though my
| protege did break once, owing TO extreme
| excitement, and the famous scene came
| Smith passed me going to the stage with
| q decided swagger. Il will take the
| house" he said: watch me. Tomorrow
| I'll be where I can have my pick of
| things" ! smiled and he went on.
I was busy for a while. and did not hear
anything of my man until a wild burst
| of enthusiasm floated in from the front.
| and the manager rushed in pale and ex-
cited MY God. man." he called TO me.
the house is going wild Your friend
| is a wonder. 1 have seen the play acted
| a hundred times, but I never heard of
! either him or any one else doing IL like
this" Once more the audience gave vent
TO its feelings. Listen he continued.
the man has simply taken people by
| storm"
He was certainly winning golden opin-
ions for himself, and more than deserved
| w. When / went to the wings in obedi-
euce to a sign from my informant, l found
/ the scene at its best. 1t was always a
horrible bit, capable of showing excellent
| work, but 1 have never seen it done as
| Smith was doing fl. When I came in the
primary work was over, and, flushed and
| triumphant, my man had come down
stage.
l saw at once that he had studied every
| detail of the death. When he laid his
| hand on the chair and spoke his last line
the nervous clutching of his lean fingers
| was perfect in detail. The next instant
| his whole frame began TO tremble violent
! ~ and the great work was started. In
| front half the audience was on its feet
| silent before the horror OF the scene and
admiration of the glorious labor being ac-
| complished. People were moved TO a
! terrible pitch and many were sobbing
| quietly. Cloaks and glasses dropped un-
| needed. The low light of the foot lamps
| looked grewSOme and the still sound of
| the music seemed far off in the distance
| Slowly the muscles of the actor stiffened
out and his head rolled from side TO side
| His face grew livid-aImOst as if the blood
| was coming through the skin-and his
breath came in deep, heavy sobs Then
| his hands wandered blindly to his chin
and down to his collar, which he ripped
| open. A rattle became noticeable in his
throat and his eyes rolled upward until
| only their CLASSY whites were visible
| His fingers moved like a spiders legs
and his tongue hung from his mouth.
| Then he turned grabbed at a chair and
dropped heavily 10 the floor. There was
writing, checked grasp and it was
| finished. The curtain fell on a piece of
work that had bewildered me with its
| strength and uneXpectededness. 1t was
superb.
For an instant the silence was COM
plete, and then from the audience broke
forth the strangest sound I have ever
| heard in theate Round a flor roupd g