HOOTED AND HISSED.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 4, Issue 1079, 20 May 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

HOOTED AND HISSED.

The poet Joe had a poet's hearty—' Though rugged might be his rhymes, And'suddenly; apite of himself-would start - The tears to his eyes at times ; ~ And the actor, who loved the poet Joe, ...Said—"lriend.l .let us enter here, iShd, if you will sit forln hoiir otW,"""""" •, I'll stand you a glass of sheer. 11 ....,, , t Through good, ' through ill, with, scarce a • pause,'Through misery and'turmoil, ■' " \ J ' : - They, botlvhad proved how hard it'M' > ' ; Up fanie'a tough steep to'toil' • • : ' 1 ;!l They both had known some sore defeat, : Yet still some triumph shared, ' 1 : •And they were glad oncfrinore to meet,;' 1 • ' To learn Now- each'had fared,'-' h " : |So down they sat, these oronies twain,,,.>•.! i In,thehostelrydingy.andsriug, v J, lt i | Old Joe to his glass of the amfcer stain, ; And his friend .to his pipe and jug; ■Then the actor But Troubadour ! be you bliiho,, For'thoiigh tho critics yourlyerso'asaail, 1 ' . ■ They do not see you writhe," , r ' V.' 1 ' " They never fail," quoth the poet Joe, ! 1 Who are pleased ithomselves to please;" !"Buta hiss," cried the aotor, "is like a blow To a heart that is ill at ease' . <" 'I once was hiss'dand the pang remains • ,;r- ---' ; Even'howilike a rankling sore,'v-.if. ;Nor the tardy cheers, nor the after-gain«,i i' i ,Can efface it evermore," my •••■'.! ~i;. ... mi(l : !' A ■ sLit 1 up like aglowingcjjal; '' f ■ : As with, stately ]Me he'said he'd try',' !l J •To unburden; his full soul.; 1 1 anoveiiart ' ' ' . * ; Ajid I coiin'd it manyanhour/' ' By the bed where my sick boy; Edmund, lay ■ ■ With his feyeei in an eeirie glowfef/ '" v '' ' !In the stifling room-1 read with a strain,'.. ' | For thewindow was darken'd quite,. . [• : Leat the eyes of. my darling, should feel :the j,. pain v—■ ■■ •Of the least little glare of light; > -.- Ir 'And oft as I came to a comic Bit, ; ~i (To be-then so droll I tried, ■That a laugh o'er.the languid face would flit, 1 |And.by turns we laugh'd and cried. .

But ah 1 tome'twasatime'of woes i.'r The wife'of my soul was dead. • .twis--TJie truo inoth'er of my cherub,' Joe! ' (The sweetest'that e'er was 1 wed'; ! ' And my second wife when my child fell sick," 'She would call him ' a:whimpering brat I'' Forgive mo; heaven I but touch'd to the i 7' quick,' ' i ' ' I threaten'd her where she sat.' !

She yell'd and storm'd like any ahrew, , , | And the.neighbors crowded in; Ajnd some cried.out—'What a shams of you!' And others cried—,' What a sin!' .

While my tiny sufferer screamed half-crazed, ! As close to his crib I stood, And his thin white hands were feebly raited To protect me if they ,

You know I was never a man of strife, My weakness was still to yield, But even against a better wife I could not my child but shield: Thus the wrangling grew from day to day Till'l scarce could learn my part, ; By tho bed whero my dying darling lay, And whero lay my breaking heart,.

Ah Mabel! she well had played tho page, And her limbs had a wicked grace. Besides, you know, I was twice her age, i And youth lias the swifter pace: : So she fled in her fiery shame and sin, i With a Jiond whero tho fiends rejoice, ■ A,nd a silence had fallen my liouso within Save for only one feeble voice.' That voice I shallnevermore forget {Should I live my hundredth year: How my brave boy hoped that health would yet ;With the sunshine reappear! How lie tried to turn my wintry heart •To tho flowers and .uplands green !■ How he woo'd me, with bis childlike art, |On his frail, frail strength to lean! . But Joe,'man, good Joo 1 nay, hear ino still I'Tis now many years, alas! Just'pause until I my pipe re-fill, | And they fetch you another glass, Ere I tell, what I had nigh forgot, ■Of the night that I was hiss d: Ffcw words will serve: 'fcia a simple plot: And some scenes may well be miss d, It came,' Joo! the day, the eve, the hour, jßut my feelings I could not quell, Aud there broke from my oyes a bitter shower As I bade my boy farewell: He told me " the piece would bo a hit," ' ' And gave me a cheery smilo; Then added—'' I will- not weary a bit, ;For you'll bo but a little while," Yet ere I went, with a nurse's care To raise his pillow I sought, , And the cup of water upon the chair More near to his hand 1 brought: "Ineed,"he murmur'd, "nothingmore," [But he thank'd me for all I did, And his eyes siich a look of patience wore That my own I turn'd and hid., One kiss—one more—how feeble he was 1 But 1 pray'd him not to grieve, Arid I'd tell him anon of the loud applause ' That I would erelong receive; And forth I stole with a tortured breast ■ For the gaslight, the crowds, the cheers, Resolved for my boy to do my best, If that could be done for tears. "

Yet I paused ata voice ! wasithis? oh, yes I In the hush of his chamber dim, He was lightening the load of his loneliness |By singing a hymn, .. Taught by his good mother long ago, .His own dear augeland mine;: My God I • it was very touching, Joel . But I dash'd from my ejes the brine. Still backward piill'd by a heart-strong tie • I turn'd, and low listening heard' From the lips of poor Edmund a faint good- • bye-. / • How thedepths of my heart were stirr'd 1' Again I'listen'd, but all was bush'd, •,' ! Except my own mutter'd prayer, And out to the open-air I riish'd, ; like a madman who needed air. I

And in tbe street I caught the face " ■ Of the wretch who my wrong had wrought, And to strike him dead in the public place • ' Was the frenzy with which I fought ; He crouch'd aside as if fain to shun „ The eyes full well he knew, ' (But every look, like a vengeance done, • ' 7 It Btabb'd and stabb'd him through, yhere was a pause, a dreadful pause; ! What next I scarce could note ; A rush! and then these naila like claws ■

Had cluteh'd the coward's throat j But the siren Mabel was bold and bad, And I shrank from a deed of blood; So hurried on with a bosom sad,, | And eyes in a dreamy flood, I dohn'd the dres» of the mountebank, : , I dabbled my grief with paint, And Iread till my eyes became a blank, ■ For the print was confused and faint, ; And aye betwixt my eyes and the book . Came features I could not chase—' Twas now of the fiend with the bold bad look, ■ And now of that thin pale face, -

But the stage was, waiting, and on I went • '> Witha jest on my quivering lips, ■ , And I scarcely knew what'the laughter meant In the dep th of my eclipse, . Until at length a hiss arose, . For I could not speak my part; Oh i I felt as.if my throat.wouldclose, . i Through the bursting of my heart,

Mute orchestra, and hissing pit, N And gay'boxes, tier on tier, 'And aloft where the gods in judgement sit,

And footlights and chandelier, In my Mflggetd'brMn went whirling rpund );j ;. While each word my tongue could form Was but as a cry of a drowning drown'd

;;;:In.the;roar:of a ipighty storm,.^ Then a thought of dying struck me dumb Though the prompter shouted loud j TlO words to my,lips refused to come,.^ " And I look'd at the j eeribg crowd'; 1 T iey,sasir.npt,the littlo piteousface,They k'heynot;the,torture, T iey,,only mocked at my meek griniace,. r ,„ And laughed attny.helpless rear. .... , Asay, away, from the lights.and thestaw . i i 'I jOf j the, gazers grade. on grade j mi- ' Away from the spangles, and paint, and glare,. j' j Somehow: my way I 'made ;;, j ] Wittwater.bffer'd me, and,wine, : ;i ,i . <• Then home J, was kindly ta'en B it jour, eyes, dear Joejhave ft liquid shin?,: : , And myistory.has giy.en you pain,";,'! ;« Prboeed," quotli Joe, and the actor strove - , To'tell : of-each hiss and shriek; wi/ - l; "Thcy-hiss'd me,"hosaid|' ! 'for the holy love ' I could neither hide nor speak :l ■ • '•" '> Bht the hisses, Joe l lithought might reacb,;<;• And even into plaudits rise, r l; ' : ' Where silence might more avail than speech,' ; j Far updri'the pitying skies! ; ■ ■ fi- ! . w 1 the ruthless crowd,'' : ~ Behind|me the tinsell'd stage,.'" i '** ;I Dnly'^ep^o'er'the face so waii" '' '''' t '] i ThatAn hduragohadsihiled'' ■I oiiljr'flif like'a palsied irian J' Alttiie with my'stohe-'dead child I" •- ■ ' 11 ffeasefulde&t|jfrqraearthly'harms,", , , : Exclaimed' bard,' . . . (11 ,.'..; . .; n; j, - I With, tears at your defeat; ; ; 'An! well for himthe end should come, "• his,dreams were sweet,";., , The aotor,said;;" It is ail past now, 1 | The towti .I' cnn draw at will; n- ; ,: But sometimes a shadow comes o'er my brow,-;; ■ Andniy ejelids ave.fain to fill, • . AiJ the grief that choked my art,;... ,• ; When I>3tood to be hooted andhiss'd, j. ,< Ere I.sobb'd my too; too tragic part : ;,:. ' |ln the wee,cold car I kisa'd." :., ■■■.- ,I'jpoor Motley l"*cried Joej"! will hiss no " '; | 1 ly 'morei :'''■- • ■'/'• : ; '■ ■ |Aa I've done in the bygone years, -' > : ; - And the story you've told I'll tell it o'er ■ 1 | With a pen I will steep in tears; _ ■ ' Only give me;" he said," but a little time, : | For I'm old and slow of wit;" -•••'• But he vow'd he would put it all in rhyme, ■ • i" : I And this was the rhyme he writ. "

; A HINT TO APPRENTICES. (From th 6 Colonial Printers' Art Journal,). 1 Boys 1 Every journal that wa» .ever pub- ; , lished in the interest of the profession Las had your faults and failings under discussion, and now.it is our turn to talk to you, Wo . are going to talk to you like a J)utch uncle,. and wo want you to " gather and surmise." (Doyou know that you are now passing through a very important period of your life ? Does it.eyer occur to yon that you are now laying the foundation for the success or failure of your.manhood ? Do you ever conaider the many .poor and indifferent workmen who are the "drones in tho beehive,' that you see in every-day life, and wonder what made them so ? Perhaps fate was against them, but : we think differently. -The boy is always "fiither.to the man." Show us the careful, conscientious, earliest boy, and wfl will show you a boy that will make his mark in the world, arid be a bright ornament to his profession, Thousands of printers to-day are deploring their condition, with no possible means of bettering it. During their apprenticeship they took "no thought' for the morrow." Time wore on and found them out of their time, recognised by the union as journeymen, with less ability and knowledge of their profession than that displayed by many a good boy. The inost valuable part of their life thrown away, If you 'do not want to travel in their footsteps, give these precepts your earnest attention, and byc-and-bye your sowing will reap a rich harvest. First, learn to master yourself, for he that conquers himself is greater than he who I conquers an army, Be respectful and obedient to your superiors, for this will not only win golden opinions for you, but it will gIV6 them pleasure to teach you. Be careful of your employers' mateiral and thne, for to injure' His inateiral or rob him of his timo [S . equal to robbing his purso, for both are his capital Do not fall into the error that you can escape his notice, for ho sees your movements and comments upon them when you are not aware of it, for the worst of all ser- ■ ' vants is the one that wants watching. If you want to know anything ask as if you wanted to know, and no »>on will ever refuse to toll you, Neither concern yomself about your wages; make yourself worth xa increase and you will certainly receive it, Avoid bad company, intemperance, foul, obscene language, and everything that tends to doprave tho nature, Be stndious, and learn from abler minds; this will build you. Be economical, and . live within yonr means, no matter how small they are, for extravagance leads to worse vices, It Is not what we mojtt but what we save that makes us rich. StriVO to do your duty, remembering your part is to leahi, and not to question your treatment by those having power over you, and do not j forget that great and good men have passed through similar trials. Wo aro painfully aware of the ups and downs that are inseperable from an apprenticeship, and we can, with all candor, sympathise with you.. Wo would particularly urge you to avoid another {m\i—discontent. Do not seek for other 'situations'because they \yill add a few shillings to your wages, Recollect tliatyou are bound by the, honor of apprenticeship!. and' you owe a duty to your employer as well as yourself. Above all things be truthf^, for eVen the greatest liar appreciates truth.-This will raise you 1 in the' estimation of all men, and none Will appreciate you more than your emplbyor. fNcither'be afraid of soiling your hands, for ,better men than you-even the , great discoverers of the art—were not '• ashamed of a little ink on their, hands, but. rather looked upon them as the tfinmphs of a great achievement! The rough diamond is nonetheless valuable because it has not yet received an elegant setting,. Remember that 1 years roll on and pass forever, and time lost can never be regained. • Never let a day pas's ' without, learning something new. Do not be afraid of difficulties, but bend your energies to the task and you will be surprised how easily they are overcome. And as you grow .' up in years, never, forget to'speak a .kind ' word to the apprentices under you, "Put yourself in his place," and remember when you were an apprentice, • .Now, boys, one word more and.we are dono' for this time, Shakespeare says: ' iTliero is a tide in the. affairs of men ' ;Whiclt, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; ' !Oriiitted, all tho voyage of flieir life ' ' Is bound in shallows and in miseries, ■ On such a sea are you now afloat, and you must stem tho tide or suffer.the consequences, 1 Let your mark be so high that it will take you all yoilr life to reach it, and if you never reach it you will have this advantage—you will-live respected, and what is worth more, trusted. The wise man builds his house upon tlie rooks. This is good advice, boys; and if you will take it the day will come when you. will thank us for it. Wo have been an apprentice ourselves, but not under as favorablo oircumstances as you, perhaps, and have climbed the ragged steep, fell by the wayside, suffered-life's adversaries, and'knowr,t the vain of this advice.