Year: 1873

G ON The TRIP.


l was only clown, painted grin


ming clown, attached, on small salary,


to theatre in the capital of one of


the little duchies into which Germany


was divided before the genius and am


bition Of Bismark had affected its con


solldation into the empire.-My role


was popular because everybody likes


to laugh, and likes one who puts them


in a laughing mood My makeup


was considered marvel of perfection.


My songs always took, and my gestures


and grimaces never failed to elicit the


rapturous applause. 1t used to be


said that my face must be made of In


dia-rubber, it could be twisted and


distorted into such strange expressions.


But I hated the life, and my success


made it more and more distasteful.
One night | went home completely


worn out in body and mind. Ny little


sister Ada, fifteen years old, and light


and graceful as sylph, who was a


danseuse at the same theatre, also


seemed dispirited and worn. The play


had been running forty nights, and the


whole company was heartily sick of it.


But it was not this alone which exer-


ted depressing influence on my .spir-


its that evening. For many weeks /


had been losing my, heart to Fraulein


Dora, the principal danseuse of the
theatre, who was only less lovely in mind
and heart than in her person. She
was the most beautiful woman l had
ever seen; tall, well formed, graceful
with a step like fairy queen; large
thoughtful eyes; ard a sweet winning
smile. What first drew me to her was
her kindness to my sister, whom she
took every opportunity to befriend and
assist in her profession. This was the
more surprising, because Ada promised
to become dangerous rival; and, in
the theatrical profession jealousy is
the rule and generosity the exception.
So learned to like Dora and then to
love her. But SO did everybody else.
All the gentry of the place fell in love
with her, and raved about her beauty
and her dancing in way that nearly
drove me mad with jealousy. was in
love in the old-fashioned way we read
of in novels-I am not ashamed to
confess-eager to kiss the ground on
which she trod, and would not believe
that any one else could love and wor-
ship her with the same devotion.
must not omit to say that Dora, in the
midst of all this adulation, displayed
the most discreet and modest behavior.
She was always attended to and from
the theatre by her mother and always
returned the rich presents which were
showered upon her.


Among all who paid court to Dora
/ only feared one, the young, rich,
handsome and accomplished Count |
Ernest Won Walters, who pressed his |
suit with unremitting ardor. What |
chance had the poor clown against this |
man? Yet l fancied if he we're only |
out of the way need not despair of
winning her. Did she not love my
sister, and had she not often spoken |
kindly to me, and praised my acting
and singing? But this day 1 had |
learned the worst-that her feelings |
for the brother of the girl thatshe had |
learned to love like sister, and that |
she had promised to become the wife |
of Count Won Walters. What wonder
that / went to my lodgings with des-
pair in my heartl


My little sister exerted herself to |
make things cheerful in our quiet sit
ting-room. She suspected nothing of
the real cause of my downhearted-
ness for she, my confident in every
thing else, had never been entrusted
with the secret of my love for Dora;
and, in the hope of drawing me out of
my moody silence, prattled on about
a number of unimportant matters.
She was interrupted by knock at the
door, followed by the entrance of my
landlady. The good soul apologized
for coming in at so late an hour, but
the postman had brought letter for
me just after we had left for the theatre,
and as it bore foreign postmark, she
thought it might be important |
should get it that evening. | thanked
her mechanically, but glance at the
postmark caused me to tear the letter
open with eager and trembling fingers;
for had often heard my father speak
of an only brother who had settled in
England in early youth, and from
whom vague reports came, from time
to time, of successful mercantile
career. The letter was postmarked
London, and the heavy black border
lines told the story before the seal
was broken. My uncle was dead. He
had never married, and on his death
bed. remembering his only brother,
he had left all his wealth to him or his
children. For a moment / felt stun
ned and faint; and Ada, throwing her
arms about my neck, begged me to tell
her what the bad news was in my letter
to make me look so strange and pale.
I took her on my knee, and told her
we were rich, and would have no more
need to act in a theatre. We would
leave this miserable little town and 60
to Berlin.


To my surprise, Ada again put her
arms about my neck, and whispered
softly: Need we leave the theatre
Immediately, dear brother ?"


mo, child, said L, wandering what
she could mean; 'but tell me why you
should want to stay another day, when
you can leave at once and be free from
this slavery?"


Because, dear brother" she an
swered, hesitatingand blushing, Frau
lien Dora told me / was great deal
prettier than she was, and better
dancer; and that / should have the
first place in the new dance they are to
put on the stage next week. Oh,
would like to have such a triumph
once! 1t would be such a pleasant
way to say goodbye to the stage"


| could deny her nothing, my little
sister; and though for me it was like
going into the torture room of the In
Guisition to enter the theater and see
Count Ernest on such familiar terms
with Dora, l consented for the prese 1t