Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1916-08-17
CHAPTER II.

Mr.. Campbell Pope was a cynic. He
had cultivated a superb contempt for
those beliefs which other people cher
ish. Most men attain success through
love of their work; Mr.. Pope had be-
come an eminent critic because of his
hatred for the drama and all things
dramatic. Nor was he any more enam-
ored Of journalism, being in truth by
nature bucolic, but after trying many
occupations and failing In all of them
he had returned to his desk after each
excursion into other fields. First-night
audiences knew him now, and had
| come to look for his thin, sharp fea-
lures. His shapeless, wrinkled suit,
that resembled a sleeping bag; his fan
mel shirt, always tieless and frequently
collarless, were considered attributes
of genius; and, finding New York to be
amazingly gullible, he took a certain
delight in accentuating his eccentrici-
ties. At especially prominent pre-
mieres he affected sweater under
meath his coat, but that was his nearest
Further concession to fashion he made
none.
Owing to the dearth of new produc-
tons this summer, Pope had under
taken a series Of magazine articles de-
scriptive Of the reigning theatrical
beauties, and, while he detested wom-
en- in general and the painted favorites
of Broadway in particular, he had
forced himself to write the common
laudatory stuff which the public de-
manded. Only once had he given free
rein to his inclinations and written
with poisoned pen. Tonight, how
ever, as he entered the stage door Of
Bergman's Circuit theater, it was with
different intent.
Regain, the stage-door tender, better
known since his vaudeville days as
1.-The Judge" answered his greeting
with lugubrious shake of bald head.
"I'm sick man, Mr.. Pope. Same
old trouble"
"M-m-m. Kidneys, isn't it?'
mo. Rheumatism. Pm a beehive
swarmin' with palms," The Judge
leaned forward, and a strong odor of
whisky enveloped the cellar. "Could
you slip me four bits for some ini-
mentY'
The critic smiled. "There's dollar,
Regain. Try Scotch for change. It's
better for you than these cheap blends.
And don't breathe toward a lamp, or
you'll ignite"
The Judge laughed wheezingly. 81
do take drop now and then. See
here, you know all the managers, Mr..
Pope. Can't you find job for Lottie
DevineY'
"Lottie Devine. Why, she's youx
wife, isn't she? She's trife old, I'm
afraid"
Huh! She wigs up lot better'D
some of the squads in this troupe. Be.
lieve me, she'd fit any chorus"
"Why don't you ask Bergman?"
Mr.. Regan. shook his hairless head.
Hes dippy on types This shows
full Of 'em; real blondes, real brunettes,
bold and dashin' ones, tall and state
lies, blushers, shrinkers, laughers, and
sadlings. He won't stand for make-1p;
he wants 'em with the dew on. They've
got to look natural for Bergman. That's
some of 'em now" He nodded toward
a group of young, fresh-cheeked girls
who had entered the stage door and
were hurrying down the hall.
Eve come to interview one of Berg
mans types that new beauty, Miss
knight. Is she here YETI"
Sure; her and the back-drop, too.
She carries the old woman for seen
cry" Mr.. Regain took the callers card
and shuffied away, leaving Pope to
watch the stream of performers as
they entered and made for their quar-
ters. There We're many women in the
number, and all Of them were pretty.
Most of them were overdressed in the
extremes of fashion; few quietly
CARRIED ladies and gentlemen entered
the lower dressing rooms reserved for
the principals.
Meanwhile he exchanged greetings
with the star-a clear-eyed man with
the face of scholar and the limbs of
an athlete. The latter had studied for
the law; he had the drollest legs in TIE
business. and his salary exceeded that
Of Supreme court justice. They were
talking when Mr.. Regain returned to
tell the interviewer that he would be
received,
Pope followed to the next floor and
entered a brightly lighted, overheated
dressing room, where Lorelei and her
mother were waitnig. 1t was a glar-
ing, stuffy cubbyhole ventilated by