Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1920-12-24

| Ss@Nl her like glove. And the Big Man
made her murder it.
Once he had taught her. In her ignorance she
had married him so that he might teach her. Now
she had got beyond his teaching, and he did not
know It. In his vanity he thought he had made"
her. He lived, fattened on that thrived on the
reflected glory of her art, and ghouke on the
woman herself
There was no escape for her from his exactions
OF this piece. The author was abroad in, i'll
health, so he could not be present at rehearsals
Moreover, because this was his first play, the Big
Man took liberties with it might theatrical
celebrity.
This one rehearsed his wife with the assidu-
ity of an animal trainer, bullying her before the
whole company until they Uttered and then grew
silent with sympathy.
The Big Man came into the room noisilv He
was always called the Big Man. The name fitted
him, He was big in physique and in self-sufi-
clency His face still showed signs of exaspera-
ton.
Rotten! Simply rotten !" he threw at her, strid-
ing up and down. "Five years of drilling things
Into you, and you're as dense as when I married
YOU You queer the business, you slur your lines.
You-you haven't an ounce of the real stuff in you
Don't look at me with that martyred expression!
Ia get rid of you if we didn't have to open on
New Years Eve Now, look here we'll go through
that business in Act again. right here, now until
you get 1t right--my way-see? What's the cue?
t%kes her in his arms). Come on I"
The Big Mans temper was smarting under a
recent newspaper criticism in which it was sug-
gested that in his next production he should give
premier place to his wife. He specially resented
the advice, because the writer limited that the
Big Man. dramatically speaking did not count.
Come II" he repeated.
mo"
He stared at her. She had never dsobeyed him
before. 1t nearly staggered him
I'm too tired tonight. Besides, / don't agree
that the scene should be played your way. That
was not the authors intention"
He took her by the wrist. "By gad you'll be
saying the play written for you next 7"
1t had been. The author had seen her on the
stage He had purposely written his play
round her, because her personality had impressed
him. The Leading Woman did not know this
Neither did the Big Man
you've got to do what tell you. If you're
tired what about me?"
Rather than argue she gave in 1t wasn't
worth it-arguing with man who could only rea-
son like woman. The worst of 1t was, she could
see through him now. She knew he was Jealous
She knew he took perverse pleasure in trying
to queer her business" She was perfectly well
aware that could he have dispensed with her. he
would have done so; only box-ofice receipts had
been good since he had starred her. After he had
gone, the Leading Woman turned the key in the
could Oblivion of her mental sufferings Not
by morphia, or drink, but by letters. score Of
them, written by her, sealed but not addressed,
lay in a locked drawer of her escritoire. She did
not even know the man who, in them, she in
voked. Her eyes had never seen him. To write
thus one of those queer feminine impulses
that women who suffer give way to in order to
save their hearts from breaking. They were the
only love-letters she had written to man.
She took up her pen now, striving for calmness
while writing to her Unknown:
"Oh, my dear, am so terribly sad, and 1 I'm
so lonely that / feel like little child crying In
the dark =. It cant go / can't bear 1t
much longer Sometimes in my agony have told
myself to do as other women do, to be worldly,
vena,. to laugh and console myself with the first
likely man who comes my way. Pride stops me,
and my deep regard for you, Unknown. Shall |
ever see you? Will you ever become real, my
IDEAL? Shall never know what love is? For
~! heart is virgin.
Think of it, Haf-of- My Soul, wherever you are!
Am wife. And have never known what it is
to love, except intangibly, love you That is
MY punishment for having married without re-
lection Beloved, / was such child and thought
nothing mattered except my art.
Sometimes when I first began to write to you,
Unknown, / used to ask myself what would hap
p3n should 1 ever meet you? know, as know
still. that / should recognize you and at once.
i
Mans WILL But I know now that this would not
he right He has so long forfeited my loyalty. All
that is best in me belongs to you, whoever and
wherever you are. could not keep away if you
tleeded me. And I am religious woman.
"All this life I am living is wrong, unnatural.
Surely it can't go on. am twenty-sX-oh, dear
est, only twenty-six and there is nothing left to
re but work. s. And in work / cannot forget
hecause it is emotional.
81 am going to write little prayer here. have
prayed it waking and in my dreams / send it
now on the wings of my spirit, this petition of
nv SOUL that somewhere and sometime may see
you, know you, If only once a face in the
crowd"
She was strung up and she covered pages, CIV
ing her emotions full play. To woman Of acute
sensibility there is something very convincing in
the idea of a soulmate 1t was that Leading
Woman's consolation and her beacon of hope.
During the following weeks while the new play