The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-10-18

1 fided before the curtain rose.
 'Tt's Joe," he said, "Joe Ridder. Whats your front name?"
 Miss Beaver" she said mischievously. What do you think 1t is?"
 Joe could not guess.
 Say" she went on. "I knew who you was all right, even if didn't know yer name. seen you over to the hall when they had the boxin' match"
 'rhe last one?"
 "Yes, when you and Ben Schenk was aghtin'. Say, you didn't do thing to himv'
 The surest of all antidotes to masculine shyness was not without it's immediate effect. Joe strengthened his shoulders smiled complacently.
 Didn't I massacre him?" he said. 'That there was & half-Nelson holt l give him. It put him out of business all right. Say, I never knowed you was therev"
 "You bet I was" said his companion in honest admiration; "that was when I got stuck on you"
 Before Joe could fully comprehend the significance of this confession the curtain rose, and love itself had to give way to the tempestuous and absorbing career of "Old Gaunt-Eye the Ghost Detective" " Through a labyrinth of crime the heroine fought her way, jumping from a runaway engine. fleeing from a burning tenement where she had been gagged and chained. heroically going over Niagara Falls in a barrel to escape her pursuers, only at the end of the third act to find herself beside the death-bed of her only child, Little Rosebud who kuelt in her crib and sang four verses of "Home, Sweet Home," be- fore she died.
 At this point Joe arose abruptly and muttering something about "gittin' some gum," fled to the rear When he returned and squeezed his way back to his seat he found Miss Beaver with red eyes and an apparent cold in the head.
 "Whats the matter with your" asked Joe.
 My shoe hurts me-" said Miss Beaver, still unable to look up.
 "What you givin' me?" asked Joe, smil- ing "These here kinds of plays always hurts my feelings. too. 'Taint nothin' to be 'shamed of"
 But Miss Beaver was too much moved to recover herself at once. She sat in limp dejection and surrepttiously dabbed her eyes with her moist ball of handker- chief.
 Joe twisted about uneasily. Suddenly an electric shock passed through him. Entirely by chance his hand had brushed hers as 1t lay under her wrap on the arm of the seat between them. His heart all most stopped beating and he sat there staring straight ahead, with every nerve tingling. Then as the loadstone follows the magnet, his hand began to travel slowly back toward hers.
 When the curtain rose on the last act, her small hand was a willing captive In his large sympathetic one, and Miss Beav- CT was enabled to pass through the tragic finale with remarkable degree of com- posture.
 When the time came to say good night at the Beavers door all Joe's reticence and awkwardness returned. He watched her let herself In, and waited until she lit a candle Then he found himself out on the pavement in the dark feeling as if the curtain had gone down on the best show he had ever seen. Suddenly side window was raised cautiously and he heard his name called softly. He had turned the corner, but he went back to the fence.
 "Sayl' whispered the voice at the win dow, q forgot to tell you It's Mittie."
 The course of true love thus suspicious ly started might have flowed on to bliss ful fulillment had 1t not encountered the inevitable barrier in the formidable per son of Mrs. Beaver. Not that she disap- proved of Mittie receiving attention; on the contrary, 1t was her oft-repeated boast that 'Mittie had been keepin com pany with the boys ever since she was 6, and she 'spected she'd keep right on til she was co.," It was not attention in the abstract that she objected to, 1t was rather the threatening of Ia steady" and that steady the big. awkward, shy Joe Ridder With serpentine wisdom she instituted a counter attraction.
 Under her skillful manipulation Ben Schenk the son of the saloonkeeper, soon developed into rival suitor. Ben was engaged at a downtown poolroom, and wore collars on a week day without any apparent discomfort. The style of his garments together with his easy air of sophistication entirely captivated Mrs. Beaver while Ben. on his part, found 1t increasingly pleasant to lounge in the Beavers best parlor chair and recount to