LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1900, 27 March 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A CHARADE AND ITS OON3HQUENOES. [Abridged from the Christmas Number of "Belgravia." The Small End op the Wedgb. CContinued.) ' Why, where on earth did you find it ?* inquired I, not displeased to Bee thia offspring of my youth. *ln the old cabinet in the library, my dear, alone; with several others. Aa it was a wet day, I read It to the girls this morning, and they were perfectly charmed with it.' 'They are good girls,'said I, 'and sensible girls ; Tgiris of considerable taste and culture. Some of the other plays were far from bad, too, if I remember right.' ' They were all excellent, my dear, but we liked "The Deputy" best; it is so witty, and runs so pleasantly, and how admirably, we all thought, it would go off on the stage!'

'lf it ever got on there, I dare say it would,' said I drils. 'lt ought to be sated,' mused my wife; 'it really ought;' and there the matter dropped—for about five minutes; then in came Jenny with, ' Oh, papa, I have such a capital plan in my head about your beautiful play ; there are two lady characters in it which would jnst suit me and Grace, and the third, the leading one, seems really written for Rose Symords—if we can only get her to do it; why should we not play it at home ?' Now, as I have said, I had the greatest objection to private theatricals in a general way ; I think they make young ladies who act in them, to say the least of it, conspicuous ; and they are also objectionable in themselves; but, on the other hand, here was a play of my own, really in every way admirable ; and what could be more fitting and, indeed, filial than that my own daughters and Rose Symonds (who had a magnificent figure, and would look the heroine to perfection) should see what they could make of it, before a few friends, and strictly, as it were, within the home circle ; the whole thing, put in that light, seemed a very pleasant notion, and I wrote a few lines to Tom, who frequented the theatres a good deal, to ask him to help np; I also thought it right to inform my brother Jack, being Baba's godfather, the girl's only unmarried uncle, and having a pretty penny of his own, what wo had in contemplation. 'Dear uncle,' was Tom's reply, 'l'm your man for anything, from the Emperor of Morooco to the Second Bobber; and I know two eligible young gentlemen who will make themselves useful or ornamental, as required.' I thought his note flippant, considering that the play had been forwarded to him, and had no Emperor of Morocco or robbers in it at all; but I was willing to look over that in consideration of his services. My brother's reply—which he wrote in pencil, from the bench of justice—was even less satisfactory:—

• Dear Jim, —I wish you luck with your theatricals. Did I not tall you that the charade would be ' the small end of the wedge ?' I've got a fellow here for burglary with violence who began with adulteration. It's the same story.—Yours affectionately, Jack,' The Thick End, I don't deny that Jack's letter gave me an uncomfortable impression of having been, so to speak, " taken in and done for " by my wife and the girla ; but it was not the first time (nor the fiftieth) that the thing had happened, and it only remained for me to keep the damage within limits ; and yet the larger the number of spectators, the more extensive needs be the preparations to receive thera ; somehow or other, a hundred and fifty got invited, although I objected to them literally inch by inch ; for if they all came, it seemed to me that there would be much less room for them than is usually allcfc.ed for the adult human body, ' Oh, I'll manage that,' cried Julia condently, 'if the expense does not alarm you ; you would not wisb them to have a stand-up supper, I suppose ?' * No,' said I simply, ' certainly not ; they will como here for an intellectual gratification ; give them tea and toast, and perhaps some coffee and ice.'

' Tea and toast! ' echoed Julia disdainfully; ' I am really astonished at you, my dear James ; we have always had some name for hospitality; they must have supper, of course; the question is, whether it should be only a stand-up one.' ' Why, they can't have a lie-down one, surely, like the Romans, as Jack would .say,' was my simple and classical reply. ' Now, my dear James, this is a serious question,'said my wife reprovingly; 'people think nothing of a stand-up supper, where everybody is reaching over everybody else's shoulder—['Good heavens!' thought I, 'what a picture! 'J —and scrambling for legs of chicken and scraps of pie; my advice is, if you do give an entertainment of this kind, it should be a good one.' • Well, I suppose it's only a question of chairs,' said I; 'let them have chairs.' ' Very good ; then you consent to a sitdown supper ? ' And I may here say at once that this was not ' the small end of the wedge,' but the other end. That supper cost me £7O. ' You will give champagne, of course ? ' continued my wife indifferently; ' supper without champagne would be an anomaly.' ' Then our supper will be an anomaly, my dear,' said I decisively; ' you may put it on the cards of invition, if you please. "Private theatricals at 8; anomaly at 11.30." It will be a novelty, at all events.' ' Well, all I oan say, James, is, that nobody ever praises anything, however good—and I am sure your play is excellent—unless they have champagne afterwards ; I should be exceedingly sorry that your talents failed to be appreciated for the sake of a few bottles of champagne.*

'But at the theatres people praise what they see; and yet—except, perhaps, in the case of newspaper critios—the rhanagers don't give them champagne after it.' • That is true, my dear ; but theatres are not a private house ; what will be said in our case (or rather in yours, for I don't care what they say about me ; it is your reputation that I am jealous about) —what will they say when they see only claret and sherry on the table, and no long glasses t Why, " What a pity it is that a man of such transcendent abilities should be so mean ! " '

So the champagne was agreed upon. This was a mere detail though rather an expensive one. Tho proceedings in other respects were wholesale. The house was literally pulled to pieces. Doors were taken off their hinges, and curtains brought from everywhere to supply their place. The drawing-room, which was to be the theatre and auditorium, was wrecked; and on the desert waste thus created raised seats were erected. The stage was put up by ' skilled workmen,' with their usual disregard to the wall-paper, and the chief mirror was smashed by a ladder. Anarchy reigned everywhere, even in the kitchen, and I was compelled to take my meals at the club. But all this was nothing to the rehearsals. Miss Rose Symonds, whom he had fixed upon for our leading lady, had a temper of;ber own, and drove Tom, who was stage manager, quite frantic with it. She had professed herself willing "to make herself useful in any part," well knowing that she was to act the chief one, but it was found that this meant she wanted to play them all. She wished to cut all the good "bits" out of the speeches of the others and put them into her own, on tho ground that they "dwarfed tho heroine." Considering that she stood five feet ten in her satin shoes, this assertion was ridiculous. She appropriated even the prologue and the epilogue, which I had secretly (intended to havespoken myself. Her egotism was bo tremendous that the others quailed beforo it, like animals before tho human eye. Magnificent as she was to look at, the three young men (and of course the two young women) would have wished her a size or two smaller, and a few degrees less beautiful, if by that means she would have become what the stage people " practicable." Her mother was "an honorable," and she never forgot it. After one terrible scene (not In my play) Tom came to me in my dressing-room—the only apartment I could now call my own—and protested that, he couldn't stand it any longer. He must get somebody else. 'Nonsense,' said I; 'Miss Symonds is a splendid creature, and exactly corresponds with my conception of the part with which she Is entrusted.'

' That's all very well,' said he ; ' but you have not got to rehearse with her; now. if you'll allow me, I know a yonng lady—an

admirably conducted girl—who is a professional actress; her father is an architect—' •Idon't oare what her father is, sir,'interrupted I, with indignation; 'do yon suppose I will allow a professional actress to appear under this roof with my daughters ?' 'She would do your play a deal more justice that this giantess." ' Well, well, that may be; but we must make some sacrifice to principle, Tom ' ' Then there is Miss Kemble, daughter of your old friend the canon, at Exeter, and grandniece to the immortal actor of the game name; she has an hereditary talent for the stage, yon know; and I think I conld persuade her to help us ; she is a, quick study— * ' A what!'

* Learns her part rapidly, I mean, now, if I conld get her ' ' No, no ; it's not to be thought cf, Tom ; consider how angry the Symondsea would be; and your aunt has a great regard for them ; we couldn't give any reason for picking the girl off, except that she was too tall; you muat do the beat with her you can.'

I did carry my point there, and the professional services of Miss Ro3e Bymonds were retained. Time went on, and with it our gigantic preparations. Pink and gold cards of invitation were sent out to the one hundred and fifty people, snd they almost all accepted, and some of them asked permission to bring a friend. I had a thousand dismal apprehensions of failure, but thay were swallowed up in the dread of the drawing-rojm floor giving way, and everybody going to the supper table, which was underneath, before the proper time. The day before the appointed night arrived, and all was ready, the house looked like a bower. So thickly was it planted with evergreen and flowers, which are rather dear at that time of the year, that I felt like a •Jack in the Green' as I left it for the city that morning. ' I had not been at the office an hour when a telegram arrived from my wife—- ' Tom is taken ill; what are we to do ?' I don't know the exact ejaculation I made use of when I read thi3 piece of news, but I noticed that my chief clerk, who was with me at the time, and who belongs to ' a serious family,' opened his eyes and month and threw np his hands liko a semaphore ; so it is probable that it was something stronger than ' Good gracions!' The next moment I was in a hansom cab, leaving the telegram behind me, the contents of which subsequently got abroad in the office, and gave rise among the young gentlemen to the ridiculous report that the illness of a favorite tomcat had thns upset me. It was not a oat, alas ! but a catastrophe. T«m was ' down * with a quinsy sore throat, and a substitute for him was out of the question. My wife and daughters were engaged for the next three hours in writing and telegraphing to put the people off. It was hardly to be expected, with all the care in the world, but that some of the one hundred and fifty wonld turn up the next night, and very apprehensive we felt as it drew nigh. There was something ghastly in the notion of half-a-dozen people coming down to our artificial arbour in January to eat a cold supper. It was like a stage picnic; and, indeed, the stage was there, though there was no representation. As luck would have it, however, nobody came, and all the little impromptu jokes we had manufactured to mitigate their disappointment and sot them at their ease were thrown away. I wish the supper could have bean thrown away too, for living upon tipßy - cake and boned turkeys, as we had to do for the next fortnight, made frightful havoc of my digestion. However, we got through with it somehow, and Tom recovered of his quinsy. {To be