The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1904-04-06
Copyright 1902, by THE BowEN.MERRILL COMPANY
CHAPTER NNNI.

before. the fifties an auda-
cious sheet, being especially kind to
the players. This paper" said a writ
er of the day, was as full of witt
cisms as one of Thackery's dreams
after light supper and, as for its
editors, Straws and Phazma, they are
poets who eat, talk and think rhyme.
The Picayune contained a poem ud-
dressed to Miss Carew, written by
Straws in a coy nook in the veranda
at the Lake End, with his absnth be
fore him and the remains of an elab-
crate repast about him. 1t was then
quite the fashion TO write stanzas TO
actresses. The world was not so pro-
sale as it is now, and even the presi-
dent of the United States, John Quin-
cy Adams, penned graceful verses TO
a fair ward of Thalia.
One noon a few days after the open
ing performance several members Of
the company were late for rehearsal,
and Barnes strobe impatiently to and
fro, glancing at his watch and frown-
ing darkly. To avenge himself for the
remissness Of the players he roared at
the stage carpenters who were con
structing a balcony and to the supers
who were shifting flats to the scenery
room. The light from an open door at
the back of the stage dimly illumined
the scene. Overhead in the flies was
intense darkness, while in front the
auditorium yawned like chasm in no.
wise suggestive of the brilliant trans
formation at night
UGH said Susan, standing in one
of the entrances. 1T is like playing
TO ghosts! Fancy performing to an
audience of specters! Perhaps the
phantoms of the past really do assem-
BILE in their old places on occasions like
this. Only you can't hear them applaud
or laugh"
Are you looking for admirers among
ghosts?" remarked Hawkes. ironically.
Don't" she returned. with a little
SILVER
80, ladies and gentlemen, you are all
here at LAST exclaimed Barnes, inter
rupting this cheerful conversation.
"Some Of you are late again today. 1t
must not happen again. Go to Nictors,
Moreau's or Miguel's as much as you
please. If you have a headache or a
heartache in consequence that is your
own affair but | am not to be kept
waiting the next day"
"Victor's. indeed" retorted the elias
tic old lady. AS if
mo one supposed, madam, that at
your age began the manager.
AT my age! If you think
Are you all ready" interrupted
Barnes hastily. knowing he would be
worsted in any argument with this
veteran player. Then clear the stage.
Act first" And the rehearsal began.
If the audience were specteIs, the
performers moved, apparently without
rhyme or reason, mere shadows Oh
the dimly lighted stage, enacting some
semblance TO scenes to mortal life,
their jests and gibes unnatural in that
comparatively empty place, their
voices, out of the semidarkness, like
those Of spirits rchearsing acts of long
ago. In the evening it would all be-
come an amusing bright colored real
ity, but now the barrenness Of the
scenes was forcibly apparent.
THAT will do for today" said the
manager at the conclusion Of the last
act. Tomorrow. ladies and gentle
men, at the same time, and any one
who is late will be fined"'
Changing the piece every few nights
is all work and no play" complained
Susan.
1T will keep you out Of mischief, my
DEAR" replied Barnes, gathering up
his manuscripts.
ooh, / don't know about that! re-
turned Miss Susan with a defiant toss
of the head as she moved toward the
dressing room where they had left
their wraps. 1t was a small apart
ment, fairly bright and CHEEKY, with
here and there a portrait against the
wall. Above the dressing table hung
mirror, diamond scratched with hero
glyphic scrawls, among which could be
discerned a transfXed heart, spitted
like a lark on an arrow, and an etch-
ing of Lady Gay Spanker with cork
screw curls Taglioni, in pencil carlca-
ture, her limbs "divinely slender"
gyrated on her toes in reckless aban-
don above this mute record of names
now forgotten.
What lovely roses, Constancew ex-
claimed Susan as she entered, bending
over a large bouquet on one of the
chairs. Prom the count, / presumed"
Yes" indilferently answered the
young girl, who was adjusting her hat
before the mirror
How attentive he Isl" cooed Susan,
her tones floating in a higher register,
Poor man. Enjoy yourself while you
may, my DEAR" she went on. when
youth is gone what is left? Women
should SOW their wild oats as well as
men. | don't call them wild oats,
though, but paradisaical 'oats. The
Elysian fields are strewn with them"
As she spoke her glance swept her
companion searchingly, and in that
brief scrutiny Susan observed with in
ward complacency how pale the other
was and how lstless her manner. Their