Gilpin observer., 1917-09-13

little yarn.
"It was just three years ago." be
gan the composer, that I made little
Lally Broughton's acquaintance under
very peculiar circumstances. My first
comic opera had been accepted, and
the final rehearsal was on. 1t was, to
a certain extent, a dress rehearsal, and
most Of the people had got their
clothes. but some of the shoes weren't
ready; and there wasn't soul In the
house except a dozen artists from the
Illustrated papers, who were making
sketches from the stalls. But the
whole strength Of the company was on
the stage; the musicians were in their
places. We began at nine-thirty a. m.,
and we were not done-not really done
till ten that night; and we went
right through everything. and a pre-
ciOus anxious time 1t was 1 can tell
you. And everybody was down upon
me, and the stage manager was down
upon everybody; and the ballet mas
ter had lost his head, and the chorus
master was like raving maniac; and
had tumbled over the train Of Miss
Dulcet, the popular favorite, our prima
donna, and she had used language to
me that she must certainly have learn
ed in Italy when she was completing
that expensive education of hers and
we were all tired and hungry and
pretty utterly done up. Mr.. Wackles,
the low comedian, who was playing
the part of an innkeeper, had just
got through that first song Of his about
the Staff Of Life. He put in lot of
words Of his own which he considered
funny, but which the author didn't:
and he and Sparklebury, the author,
were shaking their fists in each others
faces. And the prima donna's under
study had just sent in a medical GER
tiflcate-not that I cared very much
about that, for Miss Dulcet, our sheet
anchor, was In splendid voice. Just then
a very curious incident happened. A
little, pale, blue-eyed girl suddenly fell
down all in heap at my feet. Wack-
les and picked her up and popped
her into a property chair; the girl had
tainted.
"'What's the matter my dearr said
Wackles kindly enough, when she came
to herself.
"'Oh, Mr.. Wacklesv y said the girl
for she is but a girl-T didn't mean
to. really didn't; please don't say
anything about it.
"Tt amt time for fainting. Miss
Broughton,' said Wackles, beating on
his chest in his best low-comedian man
ner; look ut mel don't faint. When
q professional lady wants to faint, she
should faint out of business hours; or,
II she feels she must, she should go to
the canteen and get cOrpse-reviver.
Can offer you anything. Miss Brough-
ton?' he said. with low bow.
"'Please DON'T, Mr.. Wackles,' said
the girl with little sob. And, oh.
Mr.. Wackles.' she added-and there
was an awful look about her eyes-is
that real loaf, sirr she said, gazing
hungrily at the staff of life, one Of
those long French loaves of bread,
which Mr.. Wackles was carrying over
his shoulder as though It had been a
battle-ax.
"'Of course it's real cried Wackles.
"'Oh, please said the girl, would
you give me slice of 1t, sir. I haven't
got penny in my pocket, and haven't
tasted anything since eight this morh-
ing. These nine weeks rehearsals. sir.
don't bring any salary, and mether and
I are very poor
"'GoOd Lordr cried Wackles. Then
he cut her of great slice, and. In or
der to keep her In countennnce. he cut
eat it with great apparent gusto.
"At that moment was sent for into
the managers room. Sparklebury was
there; so was Mr.. Mephibosheth, who
represented the syndicate that was
running our piece.
"'Miss Duicet has thrown up
her part and has left the theater. Qua
vers,' cried the manager.
"'we are just bust" said Sparkle
bury. e.
81 felt that was ruined man.
81 rushed out. ran across the
stage. 'Wackies.' I said hurriedly to
the low comedian. we are done! Dull.
Get has chucked us. and there is no
understudy.'
'Zerubbabelr shouted Ar. Wack-
les.
"'Please. SIR cried little Lally
BroughtOn. clutching my arm-'oh
please, Mr.. Quavers, do give me a
chance, sir. I'm letter-perfect In the