The Storyteller THE PLAY'S THE THING

New Zealand Tablet, 13 December 1906, Page 3

The Storyteller

THE PLAY'S THE THING

Every one among us.loved Keene, whose .roles- on -the boards .were . usually v%lie irate father, the cold-blooded ' family "solicitor, tJie dishonest - skinflint, the close.-fisted or profligate husband, but who in_ real life was" the gentlest, -unost upright and generous .of men. • . „.,.. -'- - . We were a theatrical -'company,. ? gathered together After the opening oF the- season- from the ranks of those unfortunately out ..-of ,an engagement, by a leading man who was determined^ to ' star.' And after a' "short tour on the .road, ' we" were actually playing in New York; although riot at "the paradise of an actor's day-dreams, a Broadway theatre". - ' Not -so long '.ago, the r "player's calling; was looked down .upon by Urn people ~ on i the other "side of '-the footlights even while they ..-.applauded - '.the player'sgenius, • " - v ' ' ' """ Now we are judged mor t e jus Uy, and ' the profession is known to be made "up of men and women who, in- their virtues or their - faults,-, only 'hold the mirror up ' to the rest of- Che world.- ' _In our- company there were several -Catholics, including Joe, Richard, and" myself. .Someone" had asked us to contribute our mite to the St. -Vincent de' Paul Society, and at intervals tV used" to" go around collecting the dimes and qua£Cjjfs ; from '"my ' band" and. any ottiers who -chose- to -give/ usually -the whole cpmPany. • „ — .»- r -. O(> .>. „v . . f " s There are no people on carili more generous, and charitable than the -members' of ' the p-rofession,-' unless, perhaps, it be- the , very poor of the tenementhouse districts in a great city. - - > ' Here comes Mimi with -her little green silk bag,' Mr. ' Keene would say as. he caught sight of me on these occasions, aiid down would go his hand into his pocket on 5 the instant. , - : v It was ,the same whenever "he -.-Heard- the ••'story- of any poor; fellow, either in our ranks -or ' outrbf them,Avho wft.'down on his luck.-- When any woman wasjs .in need-; assistance was - always ■as delieately~asid'^ chivalrously ren'erecL.as though she -were a> princess-? - Hitherto 1 had ' played - only ingenue-parts. -~Stttihis year, when' the ' leading "lady was taken ill><^d*trad to give up, I found myself at a" bound promoted to the top .rung of our , particular- theatrical -ladder. 'It is- all right, ]\"&mi, you can .do it ! ' Joe exclaimed when I told him. - -,- ~-^^S ' Very proud I" was -that he thought so, . for. our acquaintance . had begun only when we were -both- •♦'engaged by the actor-manager. tX ' - ~r , ■ -. ' --'• - We were; friends from this hour, and he grew so fond of me that became almost jealous. Rich- • aid and tare- to-be- Iniarrled 11 ' at the' c'fose of tlie season. ..-.-, --' ■ . . ' But the old man- said 1 looked like v someone -he had known long ago, and I "understood" that many of- the little acts of kindness .he showered- upoii"-me were prompted -by his enduring* affection for that " other woman, whoever she was.- *A,% least. s>he v must now lie -gray-haired "and elderly, unless, indeed,- >vhile still in her youth and beauty she -had made her- exit from" | life, in - the first' act of,, the _ drama— idyll, ""comedy "or tragedy — whatever it was. - ■ l " _ Yes, we , all knew he . hadUiis. romance,- and o-ne'day,-with the h«edlessness, of youth and an Impetuous disposition, - 1" niade bold to ask him about -it. 0 Mr.- Keene, you must-haxe.^often .thought, me -an audacious little minx,' 1 ~ began ,t'< '-and .^ydu you I are" a beautiful old hero r in, jny -.eyes,,, sc don't be amgry when I ' asti you to tell me a ' story. . Why have' you never married ?•'"'-''' The question disconcerted him, -aiid- was, -truly, a n . impertinence" for which I - blamed myself as - sow*' as it , was uttered. t :<',-;'', ' ,* t. - - He tried\ to ,s,mile, buii' -'th"e.-^sadl-ex,pressi9n r pf ' his eyes haunted me for days ' afterwards and his " voice trembled in spite 'of his attempt' 'to ke.ep it steady. ' Ah, -Mimi, child,'.- he^'ep.lied.v" ' I anY just r another" who has "grasped at happiness" and failed" to' obtain it. When.. l ' was a young .. man. I.^hadj my vambition.-_ .1 dreamed of becoming prominent in- my bailing;- a' stair '. of the "first- magnitude:- - 'l ; henr*g'row'n : *TioK ;:r and'"famous, "I would marry- the woman- r-'loved.*' She was ' not one of us, .and wished -me to adopt another- profession. It "was the one pointrupon. which ;;we differed. Circumstances parted us. My dream of fame" and for- ' tune has' tib't yet come - Urue*~ and never ' will. " " Uong ago," she became the- wife of another. For years "I haVjO" "heard nothing of her; I do 'not even know her

married name,. Yefc the thought of 'her has kept me . straight many-- a. -,time when-.lrhave been ,tenipted,> -and--! has telpe*.une to liye sb .Jj Vver chance '4o i m fejj Jie.r,. I -can look in,- her dear. face. and -jioi' be' ashamed of myself, "thank Gad.'' - . --■ > He turned away, -his head: • '-' •*•••''• -~'■ " ■ j Embarrassed, at haying,' sol. abruptly;,- intruded into . the inner sanctuary of his -hearty 1/ murmured- ••<:•. '& 'Dear friend, whatever' of joy life lias" given" to your old- .'sweetheart --least- she -: has ne^cr found a truer -loye.-than-.7the homage you laid .at her f-eet.' Then I .stole '"aw'aj. A '"" ' ■ ".Do 'you observe, miss,- how r poorly Mr: Keene- is' : looking for a while past?' said Miss- Bedclia jVLcShane, -the latest addition to " our forces Bedelia,- before her footlight debut, had played onlythe humble part of" scrubbing" the" lobby of -the theatre A charwoman being required for a role on s the stage, the position was given to" hay, and : she made a^hit by ncr absolute-- disregard- of everything butr the work--be--fore" her. - - v — :* : * -> -i. ;_-?<. : ' Being, set to scrub, I iust scrubs,' she replied--' when asked the seciet of her success. The", phrase became" a by-word among- us."Her' remark io' me with* reference to old-Joe^Vas^"" made several weeks - after I had, '. in' aVmeasure: forced"' myself into his. ' confidence 1 . '- Although- I, too,- haxCnot-' <xod that he Vas ' failing, J did, not . care "to admit it to., anyone. ' „ " I ' ' „- -- -^ 'Oh, Mr. Kee-ne only needs ' a rest,"' j aris'wqred : with assumed carelessness. ' But lell me, Bedelia, what was the trouble between you and ihxj stage manager this morning ? ' The ' ruse succeeded. ■ --- ' Sure, miss, is no trouble at all," answered the McShane volubly, ' except it be that I've Struck for more^ leisure/;' I've been charwoman at 'this thayatre now goin' on. .siren ye.ar., I scrubs -the stoops "in' the mornin', I plays, me part in the afternoon, and, fr l - _ plays me part . -in the" evenin' .It's too much- I'll' play irie two performances . a "day, but I'll quit at . /three.' - • ,5, *, ,-; Bedelia was as., good as her word,- and the Imanager had to .yield- or we would have lost otieof" th€ - most popular members of,_our company. Our actor^-' manager had been running .one play since the beginning of the season, and that Mr. Keene was losing groundsoon became only too mamfest to all concerned Lai-"-terly his strong scene in; the last act had not- -been " given"- with t-he necessary iorce, and each evening; - lie - appeared more distressed for- breath as- the curtain'fell ' Mimi,' whispered Richard" to me one night *as i -stood- in. the-, wings^ajb- the beginning of the play the manager has. resolved to hand old Joe his notice*. He has written the letter and will give it to him tonight before he goes^ home. 1 - - v ,- , ; 1 Our dear friend, '" I sighed; - ' How I wish we could : save him from this trial, that' we could spare him the ,- humiliation of this dismissal:' ... ' ' .-■ We were powerless to aveit the blow. m ' ".Well, when 'we have;a home of our own,' Joe ' shall be our guest for as long as he will stav-' with ' us, shall he not, Mimi ? ' 'Richard said. - "' '- 4 I never loved, him' so much' as I did at that.' 'mo- $ ment.' Joe was on in the scene, and we watched him -"'- At a point where the action is sustained "by sqme of 'X the other characters, 1 saw his 1 - glance sweep over' t he c house. Then, suddenly, he gave a start of surprise* \; It was imperceptible to' the audience, unremarked' eveti by my companion (I presently ' discovered), but' plain" enough to me. • - - - The next moment he was putting fire' and-vi»or "- into his acting tha-t had : been lacking lor .yearsMy cue came , and .I- went on. Mr. Keene con- ' tin-ued to play his part' with magnetic power, and tire curtain fell amid a "X'otind^ of xapplause. ■ ' By jove, I Relieve some,- ,on,e has given Keene a ' hint about his notice!" fcxeiaimed Richard as- 1 came y ofl. « I had no fc^., the hearty tell him, biit^ had> I: . „ known he v would have . tal<en in this way I wouM ' have warned him ilong ■ ' .- I smiled^ yet, said .nothing., BuJI knew 'it^ was no hint of the no-bice that had wrought the chahee»in our friend. ■ & -• I, had. seen his-, eyes turn again and again "toward an elderly lady in widow's weeds who sat in the second , row of 'the - orchestra -chairs'- with a young", man cvi-" dently her son. -- - ' ■' .^Old Joe was" flaying to only one in-dividuar in the audience, only t6""that beautiful, delicate-looking -silver- - -haired- woman. ..•"• ;.y. " . - ; , 1 ' ~< ; > At r once-, the..triith .flashed- upon me. ': - ■' r t"! ■ ilus lady Ava's none other' than the woman of- whom" he --Had; spoken to ,me, the 'womai whom he had - once loved, and loved still. This. was the' explanation of, his -sudden spirit 'and 1 fervid" rfeiitlerihg of his lines

Throughout the seeoiid act it- was the~same. He - wasf--c4ear4y> eager to show Ms early sweetheart, and the object, of— his life-long devotion, that* after all, "he was noL^ an absolute failure or unworthy- "of^ her respect. She-.".must • a-t least admit that 'he- possessed a Spaik of the -v divine'- -lire; '-:that- the* dream of his youth - had not been, all- a delusion?,- * v " . '-■, - > , ■ T v°r her h^-^pwed as he appeated >onc'e more with me before. the curtain a I the.endpl.-.iaie-ihird.-.act. And she? Ah, yes, sheVhad xecogxitsedf him almost irom the first. Even while." I .-was going ' ttiroiighu- W own part, her face, •.with its tense, startled, yet tender expression, was ever ocforeV.me" /•'-'"^ Plainly, through ail the years^which had passed, in spite of a - separation of more than half ,a lifetime, she had , not, lost interest lif- the career and 'well-being ct ,ncr clover. KAnd? now, „as she leaned forward-in her chair anti followed his eve,ry. motion- and e;v,ery .note or ms voice, i felt, with air-understanding Hhat *•'•' 'W for, Richard gave ,ine,* -that the old love had rushed back' to her "heart 1 - i&Vtide of fond recollections." For she must have r - loved- hdni once/ even though later she may have, knpw n \a- -deeper love For the nonce she was ,a girl , again r andj- -he a '.haaJdsome young man pouring his ardprit/ vtfws mtd'"ber"' willing' ears. All the years -ireEween seejined to have faded -away.; even the young mail --at - heri-side was-'as if he had never been. . . ,* , . In the last scene Joe.- fairly- eclipsed all. his former - efforts, tire, scene in wjiich/.'his^pbbr * old' "Voice y fiad been wont to .tremble and;, sometimes, even to break - He played i'L willi the ~ strength, of other days, and ' tl,I mCc ra^ cleai \,. and. .true 'up to HhQ cfimax< wheie, according to the business of the piece, hepitch'.ed torward into Richard's': out stretched -arms . ~ ' .. when this -happened, *Kdchard"-«gave a- -quick,- nervous glance at me, and then laid him gently-prone upon the stage. '. ' ..=» l - - 'Dead' faltered one, of .-the] company, speaking - the line of the play. Still following _ the scene" I fell upon my knees beside jthe- old .actor... But to-night ray , cry of anguish was . not ' feigned:\. I, was really :fri<Hi£ ened, terror-strickru. ; ' ■_,' '- V --".,. ,;^?.- , »For of all " Uiat , throng bbvohd "tlie-JooUigiM^or;. among the people on .the^stage, anly 'Richard -and. knew it was -not x mimac..death7Sjßene. that-had*-iiist*-been enacted. - - , .-- v 4- •- - -; _- * Poor old Joe! He had gained his one night of . Inumpli. And now, a highei power fl»an~the manager had given him his notice. '" - • '-^'i*.^>C> j b And the lady in the orchestra circle ? ' x *f's r -- nM Tbe denoueineiit was ceitainly - a- -surprise to me; fl hat, woman who was ■ old •* JLoe's sweetheart in the -long ago, the woman to win -those 's miles ";iaiid tears „. he had- played so well, who unknown -^--herself had influenced- him for good tfa-oughoiit - -his- —life— that" svyeet-raced, grayrhair^jd womaiu. was— my-, mother '— Messenger of the SaQi'ed Heart.' - v * -" "■