The Stage Waits.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1836, 12 April 1884, Page 6 (Supplement)

The Stage Waits.

u Hurry up, Miss Muldoon ! Tho stage waits for " Desdemona !' " Olympia Jane Muldoon, " a bud of blushing beauty," was placing "Desdemona" to Raoul Cclcwayo Van Schuiid'a " Othello" on thai momentous niglil at uu amateur performance for the benefit of the yellow fever sufferers, as the call-boy's stentorian voice penetrated to her dressing-room and nearly frightened her out of her wits with the above startling order. ml , —*"■•"*' Quickly helping her maidjfffde on hci . costume, she flew to JpQf*<JS, t U E " and paused forhercu^ff 10 wing^ beforo burste/^e /^t r ra'aie'nV vision upou the admiring gaze" or the Bridgeport audience assembled to do honor to her historic ability. The cue came, but just then an ashy paleness o'erspread her angelic countenance, and she moved not. The cue was repeated by ' c Othello," who now stalked up and down the footlights " faking up " some lines, and wondering why "Desdemona" did not appear, yet she stood there like a marble statue, her wild rolling eyes the only evidence of life in her transfixed form. Like a flash, Eeginald de Tompkins (who was murdering the character of " lago " upon this occasion) forsook the looking-glass, and with his mustache but half waxed, rushed around back of the scenery from the other side of the stage, and, supporting Miss Muldoon in his strong arms, wailed : " Olympia, my darling ! rouse thyself ; shake off this death-like faintness and haste to greet ' Othello ' or the scone will bo spoiled. If thou lovest thy aflianced Riggie summon all thy strength, inflate thy lungs and glide forth to act thy part !" "Ah, woe is me!" sobbed Olyinpia, as she gave a despairing look into Reginald's anxious face, " I cannot inflate a single inflate ! Oh, cruel fate ! undone, undone !" " Lyniphy ! Tell me the cause of this awful prostration — this terrible despondency, or by the bones of the dead Csosar, I will never buy pie at your papa's bakery any more ? Speak, Symp ! if ono atom of regard lingers in that bosom for thy own ' tootsey-wootsey ' belch the reason for this dreadful lluuk !" "Then list to tho bitter truth!" shrieked Olympia, as she tore ono hand from De Tompkin's grasp and clutched at her heart in agony : t( That confounded girl has buckled my corsets on hind side beforo !" — From "A Blighted Life ; or the Cross-eyed Dressing Maid's Etrov."— Pretzel's Weekly.