Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-12-06
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1t was more respectable evening than
ordinary, owing to the scanty attendance.
Mr. Splud, lessee, counted ffty-two
with the babies in arms Reuben stood
under shady tree, an old blue Scotch
cap drawn down to his eyebrows, and a
waterproof coat turned up to his ears.
Mr.. Splud mixed in friendly way with
the company. He was tall, lank man,
or melancholy aspect. He finally took
his stand under the tree where Reuben
was.
This is bad night for our business,
sir" he said at last.
80 should think" answered Reuben.
Rain always keeps the people away;
no matter what you offer them in the way
of attraction-they won't come, sir"
Here the eyes remained so long in the
corners next to Reubens that Reuben
was afraid that Mr.. Splud's vision had
become permanently fixed
Il have seen you somewhere, and tn at
is what bothers me a Bit" said Mr..
Splud, by way of apology.
Reuben did not tell him that he was
lodging next door but two, and that they
had passed each other in the street with
tolerable frequency; but the idea had sug-
gested itself to put a few questions on
his own account, when a third person
joined them. The newcomer was SMALL
spare men, in a long, seedy great coat
with big horn buttons, extending from
his chin to his heels, and who wore a
dirty yellow handkerchief tied loosely
round his throat. He was man of an
unearthly pallor, and pitted so deeply
with smallpox that one wondered how he
had ever struggled out of his malady
alive.
''You don't want me tonight, 1 sup
pose? he said to the proprietor.
Eyes, 1 do want you. Because I pay
you" said Mr.. Splud, sharply; "you don't
want your money next Saturday, 1 sup
pose? he asked, with so much biting
sarcasm.
Eyes, l do-and I'll take care 1 get it,"
said the other, far from civilly, "along
with last weeks. What's the use of
dressing up and performing in the bless
ed rain before nobody? There's nobody
here, there's nobody coming, and it5s
beastly shame on me-"
eff I have the honor of addressing
Signor Vizzobini, l may add that l have
come here this evening expressly to wit
ness his performance" said Reuben.
"Have you, thought" said the acrobat,
surprised in an extraordinary degree.
"Well, if you can't let fellow off, I'll
go and Dress" and he walked away in
deep thought.
"He is a vagabond not up to his work."
said Mr.. Splud. II took him by adver-
tisement, on the faith of his recommends
tions. He has fallen off three times this
week, and if he breaks his neck one of
these fine days it will be a happy release
to the profession"
"What is that mans real name?" ask
ed Reuben.
81 haven't the slightest idea; Jack
Sheppard, perhaps"
"You know his address, surely?"
ooh, yes. No. Potter's court, Wal
worth road"
'"Thank you. Good night"
Reuben knew nothing of Potter's
Court; but he muttered, "Poor SARAH"
as he went down the cavernous entry in
search of No. 2. He knocked at a par
Ior door with the handle of his stick,
and a grim-looking individual in his shirt
sleeves answered the appeal.
whats up?" he said, in not too civil
style of address.
do you know a Mr.. Vizzobini?' said
Reuben. HE performs at the Sake
Gotha gardens on the slack rope"
"Oh. said the parlor floor, disparag-
ingly; stop of the 'ouse-front ROOM"
Reuben went up the dark stairs, reach
ed q front room door with his stick, and
raped gently.
who's there?" said a faint, weak
voice, which Reuben did not recognize.
81 come from the Saxe-Gotha."
"From TOMB"
eyes"
The door was cautiously opened, and
there streamed through the aperture,
through which woman's face was peer
ing-white and wan and pinched-a rush
of hot air as from furnace mouth.
as he locked up?" said the woman,
somewhat alphabetically.
mo. He will be back presently, L
think"
Come in if you like, then; we don't
charge any more" said the woman, with
a somber flippancy, and glided back noise
lessly to the side of big fire that was
blazing in the CRATE, sat down in the
chair she had quilted, and leaned her
head against the wall like woman tired
out.
But it was not her at which he gazed
so intently as at the figure of girl in
n striped cotton dress, who lay face-fore-
most on the patchwork counterpart of
the bed. 1t was a figure of despair that
thrilled him; it was surely Second-cous1n
Sarah covering from him in that hour
of her discovery.
81 say, what's your messageY asked
the woman. what have you got to say
about Tom, and what has Tom to say r.
'Are you Toms wife!'
Eyes, l am"
"And that's Toms sister"
Here the woman burst into paroxysm
of coughing, for the cessation OF which
Reuben waited patiently, keeping his eyes
upon the figure on the bed, and doubtful
still if it were sleep that kept Sarah SO
dumb and passive. 1t was a violent
cough. that of Mrs Eastbelrs, which was
rending away all the life that was ieft
in the sufferer, who carried consumption
in her every look and fitful breath.
"You have come for her" said Mrs.