The Romance of the Stage.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 32, 22 June 1870, Page 7

The Romance of the Stage.

THE ACTEESS AND THE BUSHRANGER. AN AUSTRALIAN TALE. Jenny Beiar was one of tko prettiest little burlesque actresses Australia had ever seen. She \rus rather below the medium height, exceedingly slight, without being thin, and with tiny hands and feet. Her complexion was a clear olive, her hair black, soft, and rippling, her eyes large, and softened by long dark lashes that, turned up at the ends. She had an impertinent little retrousse nose that some of her admirers

declared to be the prettiest feature in her face, and worth all the Grecian noses ever chisejled or imagined. She had a sweet voiSjf both in singing and speaking, and an excellent taste in dress. The latter she had acquired from a French dancer,' to whom she had, been apprenticed for a time. I dare Bay her dainty appearance, and her piquant, saucy manner, which was that of a spoilt child, and not of an impudent womanj contributed in no small degree to her success. But besides these gifts of peYson and temperament', she danced as Preciosa might have done .before the Doctors of Divinity ; and she had such an air of innocence, and of genuine youthful enjoyment, that even the grimmest of the ! grim females who witnessed her perfor-1 mance were completely fascinated. Her dresses were always delicately made. The Lord Chamberlain himself could not "have had the heart to carp at her prince's tunic, falling to the knee! Older, more experienced, and probably better actresses, bit their lips with vexation when they heard the rounds of applause which greeted the little lady's entrance upon the scene. They railed at the degeneracy of the drama, and the perversion of the public taste. But their objections ffere groundless. It was not vulgarity that charmed in this instance. It was the undying charm of youth and beauty in woman—a combination that has been, and will be, all-powerful to the end of time.

• Does the fact of being mother to a popular actress confer the boon of iw mortality 1 One would think so ; for, from Mrs Sra.cegirdle downwards, the favorite of the hour has always been accompanied by apparently ' the same clingy, shabby old mother. A r--yomg actress marries, and retires. Years * - aftewards —when she lias discovered the vaciity and weariness of private and inarIried life—she re-appears on the stage. \\ T iti her also re-appears the inevitable she-ragon, dingy anil shabby as ever, but to a! appearance noi an hour older. Can it bfthat there is some venerable creature who like the " Wandering Jew," is desI tine to roam the earth " until the sun himelf shall die" ? Can it be that she is bequeathed, with other conventionalities, I froi generation to generation of actresses 1 1 Wb will solve this problem '? (f course Jenny had u mother, and of conse that mother was always by her sid« She was so one memorable day, 1 who. the young actress was travelling by coau. from Bathurst to Sydney. The old ladywas dozing, and nodding an accompanhent to the rumbling of the coach whets, but all the while maintaining a firmiold upon a black leather bag, which conianed 200 sovereigns, - the fruits of , JeinV's engagement in Bathurst. Old wontn-like, she thought it safer to carry then to Sydney herself, than to deposit thenin a bank. «einy was looking charming, as usual. Shi was only 18, and late hours, excitemcit, and cosmetics had no power as yet j to impair the freshness of her youthful cotplexion. 1 "he sudden stoppage of the coach roused Jkny from a reverie, and the old lady frcn her dreams. A voice, remarkable foiits clearness, rang through the air. 'Stop!" with an oath, "or I'll blow . brains out.'' Jenny looked from the ■fhsfiidow, and sa ar two horsemen with blackTend faces. One placed himself at the Vises' heads, while the other rode round tcthe coach door, and ordered the passengrs to get out and range themselves in a lie. They obeyed in fear and trembling, Irs Briar clinging to the precious black lig with convulsive grasp. The least ag-fessive-looking of the passengers, a PresIfterian clergyman, was ordered to stand V the horses' heads. One of the robbers kpfc the driver and passengers quiet, by cvering the line with his pistol, and treatening to " blow the head off the first ; l" stirred." The other dismounted, w 'pulled down the portmanteaus and mail r pags, then ripped them open with a large I 'lasp knife, his horse throughout the affair I landing perfectly quiet by his side. / , Jenny saw him pull down her portman V

toau, and slash it open. Out fell the prince's dress, all satin and spangles, that she had worn the night before. The bushranger paused for a second as though sur. prised. Then he. glanced quickly and keenly at the passengers who were standing ranged like children in a class. He put away her portmanteau unsearched. He then made the unfortunate passengers deliver up their watches and money. Seeing him approach, Mrs Briar, who had noted the mercy accorded to Jenny's property, with an instinct of genius thrust the valuable black reticule into the girl's hands. Jenny, bewildered with terror, offered it at once to the robber. |

With a bow worthy of George Barrington, ho refused it, saying, " I will not take anything from you, Miss Briar; had I known you were in the coach I would have put off my business until to-morrow." Jenny coidd only reply by a look of astonishment. Bushrangers, as a rule, are not remarkable for their chivalry. Her alarm was forgotten in her gratified.vanity. The man had paid her such a practical compliment. She watched the remainder of his proceedings with increased and more pleasurable interest. She admired his quick, decisive, powerful manner. He was tall, and in spite of a great coat that he wore, she could see .that his figure was slight and well made. She also saw that his face was not covered with crape, but painted black, that he had small feet, and that he wore but one spur. Of his accomplices she took but little notice. Their business finished, the robbers rode off.

With many fomentations, with curses at the inefficiency of tbe police, in not pre. venting these constant outrages, the passengers settled themselves in their places and the coach rolled on its way. The landlord of the inn where they were to dine, met them on the road. As they were so late, he feared some accident had happened. When told of the " sticking up,', he merely shrugged his shoulders, as though it was nothing unusual. " Thunderbolt again, I suppose," was his remark. " No," said the driver, " this was a younger man, taller and slighter, a new hand 1 think."

At the inn, the whole affair was talked over with the greatest excitement. Whilst the passengers were at dinner, Jenny, whose appetite had been completely destroyed by the adventure, sat by the tire, warming her feet. Presently a horseman rode up, clis j mounted, and entered the room. " What is this about the coach being stuck up 1" I he exclaimed in a clear voice, that struck Jenny as being familiar to her. She turned quickly, and saw a tall, fair young man. His face was strange to her, his dress was strange, but heavens ! her heart seemed i to stand still— he wore, but one spur. Forgetting her debt of gratitude, carried away by an uncontrollable impulse,. she cried out " That is the man who robbed the coach." The whole room was in an uproar. The j accused turned to make his escape. The driver caught him by the back of the collar i and pulled him back. A black line round j his neck was visible : what a novice he was I at his work, in thus imperfectly removing I the traces of his disguise. Before he could draw a knife or pistol he was pinioned. At his trial Jenny was the principal witness, she being the only one amongst the passengers who had noticed the one spur.

When she was giving the evidence that was taking his life away she met the ptisoner's eye fixed upon her with a reproachful expression—at least she thought so, and burst into tears. The boy, for he wa 3 only 20 years of ago, was condemned and executed.

It was a terrible time for Jenny. She could not be made to understand that she had conferred a boon on society by ridding it of a man who might have become so terrible a scourge. She did not care for society :it was to her merely a word. She was a young, soft-hearted girl, and the knowledge that she had been the cause of a man's terrible and shameful death overpowered her. He had been kind and merciful t© her, at least, and she had betrayed him. Night and da/ the recollection of the incident haunted her. As time wore on, however, she partially recovered, but she never entirely regained her child-like and happy brightness of manner, and that buoyancy of spirit which had assisted to make her so popular on the stage in Melbourne and Sydney.

Why are the cobblers eligible for medical diplomas ? —Because they are all skilled in the art of heeling.