Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1901-09-11
Her Last Appearance
What Befell at Benefit Of a Former
/ W Pet Of Paris. # :.

frst7rank-an artist, in fact, who had
been the petted idol of the Partisan
public. But Mme.s de. Miramoy had
married baron and been left PENN.
less widow, and she had made the fur.
Their mistake of growing old; and the
public-which is q philosopher after
its fashion, giving only when. it re,
ceives- forgot her. So the great artist
of q former day was slowly dying OF
loneliness and ennui, struggling alone
but, with all the strength of an EN-.
FILTERED little old woman against pov.
erty, in a small room on the sixth floor
of dark and cheerless house, among
memories that made her age seem
only the greater.
Sometimes it happened that, alb.
sorbed in these sad memories of her
former greatness, she forgot to pay
her rent. At such times it seemed to
her that she could never drag herself
out of her miseries, and, if she had not
had great horror of ridicule-for she
was beginning to know life-she would
have set the world to talking of her
death. Her concierge, pitiless Ger
berus in steel spectacles, with black
cap and blue apron, added to her mis-
cry, for they were like two enemies
who watch each other ceaselessly and
seek only to annoy each other.
Even sleep deserted her; but at last,
on one of these wakeful nights, the old
actress jumped quickly up, found pen
nd
she crept back into bed and slept like
q tired child. p; 80.
A few days later q gentleman. of a
certain age, but of the most elegant
appearance, presented himself at her
house--at a very. early hour, it must
be confessed-and inquired of the
ferocious Cerberus: 'Mme. de Mi
ramoy, If you please?"
The concierge eyed him from head to
foot, threw him short "sixth floor,
third door to the left" and as the gen.
tleman passed in, concluded: ''The
idea! AT seven o'clock in the morn
ing! Well, the old cal won't be cutting
up her didoes long here, can tell YOU"
''Poor little Honorine," thought the
visitor, as he assembled the narrow
stairway where his elbows touched
wall and banister, and the close atmos-
phere of an ill-ventilated house as
sailed his nostrils. At last he reached
the sixth landing, which was lighted
by very small and high window cut
through the thick wall, and covered
with an iron grating that was utterly
useless, for no one could have climbed
the wall to get in, or have passed out
through such a narrow opening. The
gentleman knocked gently, almost
alphabetically, at the third door to the
left -.
"Who is there?" demanded a trem-
n1ous voice.
ut is I, madame-M. Delisle.''
Heavens! NJ. Delisle himself! Wait
a moment, wait moment.
The visitor waited, amused by the
sound of pair of old shoes pattering
over the bare floor, coming and going
in every direction, Of objects being
moved about, of a. window being
opened, of shrill voice that kept re-
peating: "Good heavens! M. Delisle
himself! In moment, I'M moment"
Presently the chain was taken down
and the bolt slipped back, the door was
opened little, two shining eyes ap-
peared, looking like black holes
pierced in a white face, with pinch of
rouge forgotten in a wrinkle on one
of the cheeks, and finally small figure
appeared, clasping with one hand the
folds of scarlet dressing gown that
threatened to fly open during d pro-
found and reverential bow. =
IN. Delisle! What an honor-''GI
NJ. Delisle entered the room and sat
down on velvet armchair neara win
dow, from which only a patch of blue
sky. was visible, and, casting glance
about him, saw in one corner disor-
dered bed, a table numbered with some
cups and rundown slipper, and on the
walls tumultuous array of portraits
yellow with age, famous faces and 9TH
ers still unknown, some of them half
hidden under the leaves of a faded
laurel wreath, all scrawled over with
enormous dedications. A cat, purring
amiably, came and rubbed his rounded
back against the gentleman's legs.
my dear madame
"Oh, NJ. Delisle,,' almost implored
the little old woman, who had taken a
seat opposite her visitor. %ssry
"Well, my dear Honorine, then; I
have come as soon as possible to tell
you that have received your letter,
that my theater is atyour disposal for
your benefit, and that your old friends
have promised their assistance. Here
is what Coquelin writes ME - = r
"Coquein!'"' y. .1sl:- 80 -
"Mounet-Sqlly, Sarah
"She, too" and the little woman
jumped from her seat like young girl,
and, with sparkling; eyes, seized the
letters, M. Delisle held toward her.
''There is nothing more to arrange,
except for you to select your role"
II shall choose my great success. It
Is str.he that have embodiedsall the
roles as no one else ever. did-no sone
of the present day has had such tri-
umphsF as had, sbecause-you.wil llun-
derstand me, for you have always been
true critic-none CITIZEN knows how
to give her whole soul to the service
of her art. Not one Of them sheds real
tears as shed them, not one Of them
trembles with passion as I .trembled.
And when I tore my hair and my
clothing in a rage-it was real, it was
real!"t 81 .e5sz ts.,,.s 1890: ..e.. ia a55
Eyes, it was real" repeated M. De
isle, nodding his head, as the little
woman, become young again, poured
out flood of words on his head. "Our
day is far. away and yet ESQ near. Sarah,
La Duse, Rachel even 5z5.
No, no, they were. never able to de.
claim like me, land she recited q favor
lite passage with tragic emphasis; the