LITERATURE.
THE RIVAL ACROBATS.
The streets of the old city of Agram, in Croatia, presented an unusually animated scene on a certain evening about twelve years ago, notwithstanding that it was the eve of the regular market-day, whose importance always filled the inns with country people, pedlars, travelling merchants, and even strangers from far and near, who were thus attracted to study the quaint old town, with its old-fashioned institutions and picturesque inhabitants, upon an occasion that revealed it to its best advantage. A band of strolling actors and mountebanks of considerable repute had been performing very successfully upon the outskirts of the town for several days. Their performancea were of a varied character, combining theatric with acrobatic exhibitions, »s is common in that primitive region, where a legitimate or unmixod performance would hardly be appreciated ; but the chief attraction had been the wonderful tight rope feats of the Badeski family, composed of the beautiful and accomplished Mile. Zellucca and her two talented brothers, Francois and Achille i adeski.
In some such language were they always advertised, and, in the airy and graceful costumes of their professions, they certainly did present a sufficient family resemblance or suggestion to warrant the general public —never over critical in such matters—in acceptiug the statements of tho marager ; though a few outsidi l'ijmay have known that the trio were really in no '*iso related to each othe , and that Z lucca alone was the child of old Radeski, the «hrewd French show ma ag< r, who tad covered up his own lather humble patronymic of Blanchet under the half Polish half Russ-im at th'- same time that little Victorino, his gifted daughter dawned upon the world as Zellucca, which the o d man thought ;* good name, a very good mine, though of a somewhat hybrid character. [Jut so lovely, so fascinating and so ma v lions was Jjl'c. Zellnoi a that it woull probably have made v. vy little ditference t the public at lage if the wecret of fictiiious names and relatione had been revealed to them ; though it would undoubtedly have enhanced their interefct considerably to have known that not only
' were Franeoiaaul .Achille of n» relation tn ea b ether, or to thtir fair coadjutor up n tun temedrawn cord, but were at the same time madly in love with Zellucca herself, b'it dcaHy rivals for her favo<*. That is, they had been rivals, with about an equal chance of encceca, until vo y recently, which will be elncidat< d in the course of our story. The peiformances of the company had created a <!ecH< d sensation in the community, and the occasion of the excitement on t)ie particular evening in question, wnsin anticipation of a wond-rful open-air tightrope performance, pueh as had never before bion heard of in those parts, that was to take place on tho afternoon of the following busy day. In addition to its being the time for the holding of the regular monthly market, which always partook of the character of a fair or festival, it would be the birthday of tbe reigning prince, t suzerain, and, in honour of thia event, the mayor of the old city had purchased the consent of Radeski to the exhibition, which would be a repetition of one already made by the acrobats in the larger towns throughout Bohemia and Hungary, for the general entertainment of t*ie populace. >'o that, upon this evening, the forthcoming fate was the talk of the whole town ; and, »s the weather was fine, the market-place was tilled with knots of cuiioua country folk and others, who, in the intervals of their simple gossip, cast many a wondering glance along the ancient and towering facades of the angle over which the rope was to be stretched on the following day. At the same time, and in one of the upper rooms of a small publiobouse not far from the market-place, Mile. Zellucca was having an interview with / chille Dubois, in whoso favour she had been persuaded to testify her preference on the previous day, to the final discomfiture of his rival, Francois Obermann, who was even then moodily wandering about the streets, rurslng his disappointment and meditating revenge. Zellucca was a dark haired, dark-eyed beauty, of a glorious, statuesque figure, whose every movement unconsciously betrayed the grace and 'vigor of her daring vooation, and she looked very happy upon this evening as shej half reclined upon an easy-chair in this her father's receptionroom, with her blue-eyed, fair-haired lover at her feet, looking as bright and happy as herself in the assurance of having at last won her undivided affection. Old Pierre Radeski had just quitted the room, after having yielded a reluctant consent to their union during the forthcoming winter, when the heavy snows and other difficulties in the way of travelling should necessitate at least a temporary disbandment of the company, and the reader need scarcely be told that this circumstance contributed not a little to the bliss of the loving pair, They had for some time been talking over their bright prospects, as lovers are apt to do, and anticipating tho future in rosy hues, when the girl gradually lost her smiling and animated air.
'Ah, Achille!' Bhe sighed, when pressed for the cajse of her sadness, 'if only tomorrow's task were over, and thou safe and sound, I should have no further fear.' • Nonsense, Victorine !' said he in a tone half-amused, halt-vexed, which showed that this was not the first time she expressed the same fear. ' Francois has resigned himself to your loss, and can medidate no t-eachery. It was only a few hours ago, when we were drinking in one of the bierhalle3 together, that he took me by the hand and said to me, with tears in his eyes and in a broken voice, but with obvious sincerity—" You have won her by fair open means, comrade, and it is my misfortane, rather than my fault, that I have been unsuccessful; but God knows that I would sooner see Victorine your bride than any other man's but mine—God bless you both 1" And then he fairly sobbed, Poor Francois I I could not but pity him from the bottom of my heart, though it is but a nhort time ag> that I hourly wished him dead —when we b. th hung so evenly in the balance of thy favour,'
' t ou do not \> now Francois Oberm-vnn as well as I,' said Victorine gravely. ' Thoa«h lie is a Swiss, ani appears to be one of the frankest, freest of that nationality, he inherits much of the b'Ooding, revengeful disposition of his mother, who was a woman of Corsica —that terrible island, whose inhabitants seem to 3pead the greattr part of their lives in assassination, brigandage, reprisal, and the treaiuriug-up or liquidation of ancient feuds. Francois neither forgets nor forgives.' ' And suppose he does not, what then ?' cried Aehille, laughing. 'He will hardly venture to murder me in the eyes of all Agrarn, when we appear on the dizzy cord to-morrow; aud, should he undertake to cut the rope, will he not dash himself to pieces as wtll as me? Obermann is even fonder of life than of love, believe me ) so let us banish this dismal possibility from our thoughts.' ' .Right willingly, my darling! ' said the boautifnl girl, returning his embrace with modest gentleness ; ' only pray remember that, in case of peril or treachery to thee, I will be at the southern end of the rope, at the great window of the Town Kail cupola, from which it is to be stretched, ready to warn and advise thee with a cool head and courageous heart." " Aa thou hast so often done before, under pressing emergencies, my brave Victorine 1" exclaimed her lover, passionately. " But I hear tby father's step again upon the stairs, and he has, doubtless, come to tell us of the preparations that he has completed." Old Radeski at that moment entered the apartment, and the chief interest of the lover's interview was at an end.
The following afternoon an immense concourse fil'ed the market-place, and every window of the tall, quaintly-carved housefront* abutting upon it contained as many heads as could look out and down, while all eyes were fixed wonderingly upon the tightened cord along whose dizzy line the acrobats were shortly to make their perilous way. It was nearly two hundred foet in length, and spanned the eastern angle of the market p!a?e from the cupola of the town hall to the uppermost gable window of a towering, in my windowed, many-balconied te.'.ement on the opposite side, at a distance of fully ninety feet from the ground, while in the centre, directly underneath, was the grand old town fountain, a wonder of ancient bronze and marble, which was one of the architectural boasts of the city, and which, in its present relations with the rope above, considerably magnified the porils of the forthcoming performances.
The mayor and other municipal officials, with thei/ wives and families, occupied a prominent balcony at the western side of the sqnarfl ; &n excellent Hungarian band was posted directly beneath them, discoursing popular airs ; many of the windows and railings were decorated with Hags and drapiugs of the prince's hereditary colours. The country folk in the open space had, in many instances, improvhed seats of the material that had answered them as marketbooths in the morning, and the busy commercial day had gradually developed into one of festivity and rejoicing. At last, after considerable suspense on the part of the multitude, Father Radeaki appeared on the narrow coping, just outside the gable window to the right, looking no mo'e than a pigmy at that vast mnltitude. He bowe'!, after hia usaa' theatrical manner, with which many of those among the spectators were already familiar, and tired a pistol a< a signal. Almost S:inultaiieous'y, Ze"urca, picturesquely costumed a 9 a Tyrtlejo guiik-Voy and with her long, skmhr balancing oole, b-1! lightly across hnr body, appeared besHe him, smiling ai:d kissing her hand. The crowd below roared and cheered, and thfn-ligh?iy airily, almost like a winged sprite from skies a ar—she glided out upon the rope with rapid, harmonious and fear'e.'s steps, and it held its breath through momentary d'ubt and fear. Bat thny woui 1 have been leas susceptible ha. 1 they known t* e abso'ute self-confidence of the youthful acrobat, whose natur; 1 dauntlnfisn as of di<positioa, sureness of foot and powerful nerve had br.en strengthened by years of careful and thoughtful discipline almost froiu her cradle. And even this
perilous feat was do! new t'> her. being but a repetition o* similar ones practised in the towns of Germany, Kranoe and Italy, which had rendered her head as Rtrong and her step as sure as a chvi-oia hunter's. To and fro she ran upon the ai y cord, now stopping midway to perform force peculiarly difficult step, then again pausing half-way up t v e perilous slope of the extremities to calmlv cutsey her acknowledgment of the plaudits that floated up to her from a boating sea, and liually retired backward the entire length of the rope, once m oro kissing her hand as her father received her with open arms and bore her out of sight. As she withdrew into the litt'o dressing room that had been improvised for her on the same lofty Ihior, she, however, fell almost faintiog into the arms of the long trusted old waiting woman, who wa3 ready to receive her, though considerably mystified by such unu c ual excitement on the' part of her young mistress. ' No, no, it is neither exhaustion, nor fear, nor nerves unstrung, but only anxiety, good Marie,' she explained, in answer to, or evasion of, the well-meaning old servitor'aqueries, as, recov ring her self-possession with difficulty, she hastily assisted in the resumption of her proper garments. 'Do not delay, for thou knowest I must be at the other end of the rope— in the town-house cupola—before Achille and Francois begin their performance. Good ! Now give me the cloak and hood, to hide my face, should my father meet me on the stair. Thou hast obeyed my orders ? Thou has posted one of our friends at every one of the windows and balconies directly underneath, on this side ? Thanks 1 as the old w ;man made a sign in the affirmative. ' Pemember, not a word to my father, and God grant my precaution may not be called into use. Now lam going; resume thy watch, Marie.' And, imprinting a kiss upon the old woman's forehead, Victorine darted out of the door, down the many flights of stairs, out into and across the crowded square—though the space about the fountain and directly underneath the tight-rope had been kept comparatively clear by the police—and then up the difficult and little-frequented staircases that led to the cupola. She thought the weary steps would never end, and, from the renewed cheering of the throngs without, she feared that the acrobats were already upon the repe, without her obtaining a parting word of warning with Achille, who was to start from this side. Yes ; by the time fhe reached the embrasure, panting, breathless, and pushed aside the one attendant to look out, there they were upon the cord, advancing boldly towards each other from either Bide, looking superb in the light, spangled trappings that betrayed their strong graceful proportions to the finest advantage, with their balancing pedes appearing little more than willowy rods in their sinewy grasps, with the rope bending and swaying lightly beneath their elastic tread, and both apparently en'ivened and made buoyant by the plaudit* that came surging up to them, mingled with the brazen crashing of the band. Obermann'a face was towards her, and so smiling and open did it look that she began to accuse her>elf of having ungenerously suspectei him of intentional treachery ; but s*ill she hold her breath and could hear her own heart beat as they met, breast to breast, midway upon the cord, and, touching hands across the poles, prepa'odt'' pa-s each ot-her, one of the most difficult of the feats they were about to attempt. (To be Continued^ Ratheb Mixed,—The following is the reported after-dinner speech of a certain literary gentleman, when descanting on the merits of two rival novelists :—" It's in the wonderful insight into 'uman nature that Dickens gets the pull over Thickery ; but, on t'other hand, it's in the brilliant shafts o' satire, together with a keen sense o' humour, that Dickery gets the pull over Thackens. It's just this : Thickery is the humourist, and Dackens is the satirist. But, after all, it's absurd to instoot any comparison between Dackery and Thickens." So none was " inutooted."
" What," the young man asked the young woman who was waiting for him to ask for his hat, "what do I put you in mind of?" "A French clock," she said, softly. And pretty s on he arose and went on his way. The next morning he called upon an eminent horologist and asked him what was the distinguishing trait of a French clock. The horologist said, ""Why, it never goes." And the young man was sorely cast down, and he grieved, and told no man of his hurt. — Burdette.
What are we to do ?—" Editing a paper," declares a transatlantic editor, "is a nice business, if we publish jokes, people say we are rattle-headed. If we omit jokes, they say we are old fossil. If we publish original matter, they blame us for not giving selections. If we publish selections, folks say we are lazy for not writing something they have not read in some other paper. If we give a man a complimentary notice, we are censured for being partial. Jf we do not give complimentary notices, folk say we are a hog. If we do not cater for the wishes of the ladies, the paper is not fit to tie up a parcel. If we remain in our office and do our business, folk say we are too proud to mingle with our fellows. If we go out, they say we never attend to our business. If we do not pay our bills promptly, folk say we are not to be trusted. If we wear poor clothes, folk say business is bad. If we wear good clothes, they say we never paid for them. Now what are we to do ?" "Does your sister Annie ever say anything about me ?" gasped an anxious lover. ' "Yes," replied the little girl, " she said if you had rockers on your shoes they'd make nice cradles." The harem business in Turkey has received an awful set-back by the war, and the Turks will sell off almost any of their wives at 50 per cent, discount, and throw in half a dozen children to bind the bargain.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GLOBE18790212.2.15
Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1555, 12 February 1879, Page 3
Word Count
2,818LITERATURE. Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1555, 12 February 1879, Page 3
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