Year: 1873

ON THE TRAP.


| was only a clown, painted, grin
ming clown, attached, ON a,small sala-
ry, to theatre in the capital of one of
the little duchies into which Germany
was divided before the genius and am
bition of Bismarck had effected it's con-
solidation 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 a marvel of perfection. My
songs always took, and my gestures
and grimaces never failed to elicit the
most rapturous applause. It used to
be said that my face must be made of
India-rubber, it could be twisted and
distorted into such strange expressions.
But l hated the life, and my success
made it more and more distasteful.


One night I went home completely
worn out in body. and mind. My lit
tie sister Ada, fifteen years old, and
light and graceful as sylph, who was
engaged as danseuse at the same thea
tire, 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 exerted a depressing in
fiuence on my spirits that evening
For many weeks had been losing my
heart to Fraulein Dora, the principal
danseuse of the theatre, who was no
less lovely in mind and heart than in
her person. She was the most beauti-
full woman [ had ever seen; tall, we'll
formed, graceful; with step like a
fairy queen; large, thoughtful eyes
and sweet, winning smile. What
first drew me to her was her kindness
to my sister, whom she took every op-
portunity to befriend and assist in her
profession. This was the more sur
prising, because Ada promised to be-
come dangerous rival; and, in the
theatrical profession. jealousy s.the
rule, and generosity the exception
So I learned to like Dora, and then to
love her. But SO did everybody else:
All the gentry of the place fell in love
hor oh
and her dancing, in way that nearly
drove me wild with jealousy. Twas in
love in the old-fashioned way we read
of in novels-I am not ashamed to con-
fess it-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
SnOWefeQ upon ner.


Among all who paid court to Dora,
feared only 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 [ fancied if he were 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 had
learned the worst-that her kindness
to me sprang only from gentle and
friendly feeling for the brother of the
girl she had learned to love like a sis
ter, and that she had promised to be-
come the wife of Count Won Walters.
What wonder that went to my lodg-
ings with despair in my heart!


My little sister exerted herself to
make things cheerful in our quiet sit
ting-room. She suspected nothing of
the real cause of my downheartedness,
for she, nay eonfidant in everything
else, had never been intrusted 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 our land
lady. 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 eimportantI should
get it that evening. | thanked her
mechanically, but a glance at the post
mark caused me to tear the letter open
with eager and trembling fingers; for
I had often heard my father speak of
an only brother who had settled in