MRS. SPOOPENDYKE ATTEMPTING THE HISTRIONIC.

Mataura Ensign, Volume 7, Issue 42, 30 December 1884, Page 6

MRS. SPOOPENDYKE ATTEMPTING THE HISTRIONIC.

» "My dear," said Mrs Spoopendyke, contemplating her self in the glat-s as she removed her hat and gloves. "My dear', wasn't the theat er just to sweet for anything? Do you know, I think 1 would like to go on the i-tage. " "Like to drive, peihaps," suggested Mr Spoopenclyke. *• i mean act," replied his wife. " I think I could do it as well as any of those women tonight. Do you kuow much about theaters? Is it hard 7"

"No," grunted Mr Spoopendyke, tugging at his boots. "It would be very ea«y for you. All you have to do is stand around and talk, and you won't want any rehearsls for that."

" But, I would have to practice twisting around so at to fall in that man's arms like she did." mused Mrs Spoopendyke. " I don't think I could do it as gracefully as she did without trying several times."

" That's the part you want to play, is it ?" growled Mr SSpoopendyke, with a shade of green in his eye. " You let me see you fall on any man's shoulders like that, and you'll find no trouble in getting twisted, round a few times. What's your idea in going on the stage ? Have you got a stomach full of devotion to art like the rest of the women of this generation 1 Got a pert of notion that you can go on the boards and show the old atagers how it's done, haven't ye? Feel the fires o£ histrionic genius climbing up your spine, don't ye ? Well, you don't I It's nothing but your measly vanity.

'• Don't you think I would know how to act ?" she asked, pulling her crimps over her forehead, assuming a stern expression of visage, and stretching her arms down rigidly at her sides. " This is the way I would foil the villain."

" Is that what you call it ?" inquired Mr Spoopendyke nursing his knee and glowering upon her. " Ifc looks more as if you were bidding against another woman for a secondhand hair cloth sofa at an auction. If that sort of thing is calculated to foil the villain, he must be pretty light in the waist."

" I don't know," smiled Mra Spoopendyke, rubbing her chin. "In all the plays I have ever seen, they always drive the bad man off with a haughty look. Say, dear, isn't this the way to welcome a husband after a long absence?" and she parted her lips, gazed eagerly into space, and extended her arms. " That's the way to hail a street car 1" grunted Mr Spoopendyke. "If you want to make the welcome to the husband perfectly natural, you ought to have a smell of onions in ihe hall and your back.hair in your mouth. That's the kind ef welcome I always get."

"No y«u don't, either !" protested Mrs Spoopendyke, " I always run right up to you, and kiss you 1" " Well, thf re's a smell of onions about it somewhere," persisted Mr Spoopendyke. '■' What makes you stick your arms out like andirons ?" he demanded. " You look as if you were trying" to keep off a dog."

•' Anyhow, that's the way they do it," argued Mrs Spopendyke, a trifle abashed. •♦ Then, when they get the letters telling them that their uncle, has speculated away all their property, they do like this," and Mrs Spoopendyke threw .her hand to her forehead, staggered back, and caught hold of a chair.

'' Which does like that, the uncle ©r the propertj' ?" asked Mr Spo&pendyke, eyeing the performance with high disfavor. "It looks something like the property at the tail end of the speculation, but it resembles more accurately the uncle buying a lower berth for Canada."

" I meant it for the orphan who had been despoiled." murmured Mrs Spoopendyke, straightening up and looking rather downcast, "it was intended for an attitude) of despair. How would you do it, this way ?" and she sank- into the chair, covered her face with her hands and sobbed violently.

" If I wanted to give the impression of a tight boot and corn, I should do it just that way," growled Mr Spookendyke.

" Should I throw my arms forward listlessly and let my head fall so ?" she inquired, suiting the gesture to the question.

■ " That's more like it," assented Mr Spoopendyke with a grin. " People who hadn't seen the play before might think you were counting the pieces for the washwoman, but the orchestra would understand it."

" I don't care," remonstrated Mrs SpoopgnJyke ; " I know I could act if I could get a chance. Now see me scorn ray lover when I find out that he loves me not and has been paying his addresses to the heiress," and she threw her head back, stretched out one arm, and covered her face with a pale cast of loathing.

'■' That might do," said Mr Spoopendyke slowly. "It looks to | me like an attempt to borrow $2 50. Stick out the other hand and make it five. I don't know though," he continued, " both arm would look like ' bring me me che-ild V I guess you'd better stick to the original amount. You'll be more apt to collect."

" Perhaps you think I'd do better in comedy," faltered Mrs Spoopendyke, her spirits dashed by adverse criticism. " Now, we will suppose that lam jtbe the cook who boiled the watermelon, and you, as the master of the house, are enragod with me. How will this do for the cook's attitude of bewilderment and penitence ?" She struck a comical attitude and gazed at him aghast.

" Don't I don't I" exclaimed Mr Spoopendyke, burying his face in his hands and pretending to be overcome with emotion. "It is [beautiful, but it reminds me so much of mother's death ! Please let up 1 I can't bear it P and Mr Spoopendyke sobbed aloud.

" I didn't intend it that way, dear," sighed Mrs Spoopendyke, embracing him tenderly. " Forgive me, but I thoughG I was acting funny."

" That's all right," snorted Mr Spoopendyke, recovering himself with a jerk. " You talk about acting ! Look here, now ; I'll just give you one passage, and let (.hat be the end of the whole business.' 1

Mr Spoopendyke arose, thrust one hand into the breast of his coat, set his teeth tight and growled. Then he rolled his eyes round and roared, '"Aha!" Advancing one foot with the stamp of an elephant, he swung his arm round,, and — crash ! The mantle ornaments lay in a co ifusod haap on the floor.

" Oh, dear !" murmured Mrs Spoopendyke, trembling from head to foot.

" Got enough V demanded Mr Spoopendyke, surveying the wreck with distended eyes. " Want the rest of this scene, or will you have the play withdrawn on account of sickness in the family 1 "Want to act some more, don't ye?" he howled, bis gorge rising. " Got some kind of a notion fastened to your head with hair pins that the whole dramatic business depends on you, and that you only want a wig and a curtain to be i whole theater with speculators out in front and a bar next door ! Oh, go right on snd act!" he yelled, and then striking a high falsetto, he squeaked : " Henrico, me own Henrico — ah ! — pardon these tears 1 Oh, God 1 How can I tell him? Concealment is useless 1 Henrico I—ah1 — ah !— me own Henrico ! The carriage waits 1" and Mr Spoopendyke fell over backwards on the bed and iired his feet up in the air. "On with the dance I l ' he roared springing to a perpendicular again. " Bring on the ballet 1" and spinning around like a top in the excitement of his wrath, he lost his balance, came down hard on the smashed china, and then went speechless to his couch.

" I don't care," muTmered Mrs Spooptndyke, brushing away the debris so she could safely sit on the floor to take off her shoes. " I think I could act as well as most of them, though of course I couldn't play villain parts as well as she can, and I don't think I could smash as many things. When he gives m 2 another lesson, I think I'll take him out in the field where he can't break anything but his hack." And -with this thrifty resolution, Mrs Spoopendyke fell upon a microscopic hole in the heel of her sock, and lost sight of the stage in the interest the abrasion excited. — Drake's Traveller's Magazine,