Essaying the Histrionic.

Thames Star, Volume XVI, Issue 4991, 10 January 1885, Page 1

Essaying the Histrionic .

11 My dear," said Mrs Spoopendyke, contemplating herself in the glass as sheremoved her hat atd gloves, "My dear, wasn't the theatre just too sweet for anything ! Do you know, I think I would like to go on the stage P" " Like to drive, perhaps." suggested Mr Spoopendyke. "I mean act," replied his wife. '"I think I could do it as well as any of those women to-night. Do you know much about theatres P Is it hard P " Ho," grunted Mr Spoopendyke, tugging at his boots. "It would be very easy for you. All you have to do is to stand around and talk, and you won't want anyrehearsals for lhat." ♦' But I would hare to practise twisting around so as 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 Spoopendyke^ with a shade of green in liis eye. "_Y.on letpia see you fal_L,on -»»yßonn's shoulder like that, and you find no trouble in getting twisted around a few times. What's your idea in going on the stage? Hare you got a Btom»ch full of devotion to art like the iest of the women of this generation ? Got a sort of notion that you vcan go on the boards and show the old stagers how it's done, haven't ye ? Feel the fires of histrionic genius climbing up your spine, don't ye? Will you don't! It's nothing but your measly vanity." " Don't you think I would know how to act P" 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. "It 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 Mrs 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 P" and she parted her lips, gazed eagerly into space, and extended her arms. " That's the way to hail a streetcar!" grunted Mr Spoopendykel "If you want to make the welcome of the husband perfectly natural you ought to hare a smell of onions in the hall and your back bair in your mouth. That's the kind of welcome I always get." 41 No, you don't either !" protested Mrs Spoopendyke. " I always run right to 1 you and kiss you." " Well, there's a smell of onions about it somewhere," persisted Mr Spoopendyke. " What makes you stick your arms out like andirons P" he demanded. " You look as if you were trying to keep off a dog." "Anyhow, that's the way they do it," argued Mrs Spoopendyke, 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 or the property ?" asked Mr Spoopendyke, eyeing the performance with great 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 Mrg Spoopendyke, straightening up and looking rather downcast. "It was intended for an attitude of despair. Now 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 Spoopendyke " Should I throw my arms forward li*>t-

lessly and let my.head fall soP 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 a washer woman, but the orchestra would under stand it." "I don't care," remonstrated Mrs Spoopendyke; " I know I could act if I could get a chance. Now see me scorn my lorer when I find out that he loves ny; not and he 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," siid Mr. Spoopen- . dyke slowly. ..•« It looks to me like an attempt to borrow 2dols 50cents. Stick out the other hand aDd make it five. I don't know, though," he continued, " both arms would look like ' bring me the che-ild J' I guess you'd better stick to — — ' * Vnn'd be more apt the original auiuuut. to collect." " Perhaps you think I'd do better in comedy," faltered Mrs Ppoopendyke, her spirits drooping by adverse criticism. " Now we will suppose that I am the cccik^ who boiled the watermelon, and you as the master of the house, are enraged with me. How will this do for the cook's attitude of ' bewilderment and penitence P" She struck a comical attitude and gazed at him aghast. "Don't ! don't !".. 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! I can't bear it!" and Mr Spoopendyke sobbed cloud. "I didn't intend it that way, dear," sighed Mrs Spoopendyke, embracing him tenderly. "Forgive me but I thought I was acting funny." " That's all right," shorted Mr Spoopendyke, recovering himself with a jerk. "You talk about acting ; Look here, now; I'll jusfc giye you one passage, and let that be an end of the whole business." Mr Spoopendyke arose, thrust one hand into the breast of his coat, set his teeth tight, and growled. Then he rolled his eyes around and roared, c;Aha!" Adrancing one foot with the stamp of an ele phant, he swung bis arm around, and— crash ! The mantel ornaments lay in a ; confused heap on the floor. " Got enough ?" demanded Mr Spoopendyke, surveying the wreck with disf tended eyes. " Want the rest of this : scene, or will you have the play with- <" drawn on accountof sickness in the family P Want to act some more, don't ye?' he bowled, his gorge rising. "Got some kind of a notion fastened to your head with hairpins that the who c dramatic business depends on you, and that you ■ only want a wig and a curtain to be a whole theatre with speculators out in front and a bar next door ! O, go right on and act!" he yelled, and then striking a high falsetto, he squeaked. " Henrico, me own ! Henrico—ah !—pardon these tears! 0, God ! How can I tell him P Concealment is useless! Henrico!—ah—me own Henrico! The carriage waits!" and Mr Spoopendyke fell over backwards on the bed and fired his feet up in the air. "On with the dance !" he roared, springing to a perpendicular again. "Bring on the ballet !" 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," murmured Mrs Spoopendyke, 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 be can , and I don't think I could smash as many things. When he gives me another lesson, I think I'll take him out in the field where be can't break anything but his back." And with this thrifty resolution, Mrs Spoopendyke fell upon a microscopic hole in the beel of her sock, and lost right of the stage in the interest the abrasion excited.