THE WRONG TRAP.

Auckland Star, Volume VI, Issue 1609, 10 April 1875, Page 6 (Supplement)

THE WRONG TRAP.

I. In the vicinity of Drury Lane Theatre stands a hostelry which boasts the curious sign of the " City of lushington." The house is a great resort foi actors and for those genial owners oi open hearts and straightened pocket? who glory in belonging to the Order of Antedeluvian Buffaloes. The chief room of the inn is the meeting-room of the Buffaloes It is divided into " wards," so-called, and these divisions Lave lugubrious titles—Poverty Ward, Insanity "Ward, Suicide Ward. -A moral underlies this labeling of the evils which follow the abuse of good liquor.

One evening in October two coixedians met under the shadow of Tnsanity "Ward at the " City of Lushington." They were artists of a very humble stamp—pantominists who picked up a living in a strolling fashion during summer, and whose harvest time was Christmas, and the weeks of January and February. (ne was a harlequin yclept Smithers, but preferred to be called on the bills Sign or Tomato. The other postured as clown ; his name was Pudson, and he too had a non de theatre, calling himself Pittle Pud.

To the latter personage, smoking in gloomy solitude—for the usually wellfitted room of the' City of Lushington ' was that night empty—entered Mr Smithers. The old colleagues greeted each other warmly, for they had shared in the frolics of many a harlequinade.

' And how has luck gone with you ?' asked Pudson, after some talk together.

* "Fairly for thetimeof year,' answered the harlequin, ' I have taken a ballet troupe on a tour through the secondrate towns and done pretty well.'

* I have been lucky and unlucky by shifts and starts—doing a bit here and there at the circuses, and taking a turn now and then at the music halls That pays best of all. I have a good mind to cut pantomine and go in for that entirely.'

' Not just yet, any way. You are engaged for the Forum, aren't you ?' asked the harlequin. ' .Not yet but I expect to be,' replied the clown.'

'I am and so is my little woman.' 'Confound it!' enjaculated Pudaon ; ' 1 hoped to get Mary in there.' 'But Lora has got it. She's to be Columbine.'

• Is that your girl ?' 'That's mine. Lora with an o, not your common au? sOh,' said the clown, reflectively, * Hightalion, I suppose V

.VShe passes for a Hightalion, but she's English. She's billed as Lora Lorini.' The two friends shook hands and parted as the ' City of Lushington' began to receive an incursion of its usual frequenters. ii—pudson's stoby. I am lying here on this bed helpless. I shall not die yet, the doctor says; the bones are setting; and in a few weeks I may be out again; but I shall never be fit for the clowds business any more. This misery and suffering I have brought upon myself; it has been the result of my own wicked animosity— the consequence of a jealousy which urged me into crime. I will tell you how it came about.

I joined the Forum Company this laßt winter when Smithers and I were engaged for the pantomime. To my surprise, I found that the girl to whom I had been paying addresses—Mary Morris by name—was engaged for * Columbine.' 1 had understood from Bmithers that some sweetheart of his named Loralorini was going to take that part. The sight of Mary was an unexpected pleasure, and going up to her I said; 'Mary my dear, this is good luck ; but I thought the Columbine ' was to be Lora Lorini.' * So she is,' she answered, ' W hat then are you to be ? Harlequin or some nonsense of that sort?' 'No—Columbine.' I stared at her utterly ignorant of her meaning. 'Don't you know,' she went on, that my professional name is Lora Lorini ?' I was staggered. 'But Smithers,' I cried ; ' Smithers claims Lora as his girl! Surely Mary you have not been playing both of us false?' < - = '

' His girl, indeed ! Neither his nor yours if it comes to that, unless you keep a civil tongue in your head. Can't a girl have more than one admirer I should like to know ?'

'■ She may have a dozen admirers, but §hei cannot have more than one plighted lover, if she has any sense of decency.' Mary* turned on her heel and flounced off.: I noticed during the rehearsals how she devoted herself exclusively to Smithers, while I got never a word. There came a hitter, gnawing pain at my heart at being treated so—a hunger to be revenged bnlim and her. Many a time X had it in my mind to stick my claspingknife into his throat -, but the attempt was too risky ; it might have failed, and I should infallibly get arrested for it. I brooded,over a subtler revenge; "but first I took Mary aside. 'I want to speak to you,' 3 said

. * I don't want to, speak, to you she saucily lansvFered. .. , . '&o tollies—tKia is a weighty matter, I retorted sternly. ' Listen and be careful/ ■■•'■: •ilhi-a -n .-, ~.»;'.•■.,• 'Goon.' '-'\ b4?.iiU-b«K ,•..;■■■;! I, «vvj ! *I ask you if you love George Smithtoyou;do;nte;'..;- •;;;(;, ■ •;-

* Lor Tom', how do I know ?' You must know the state of your

)wn feelings.'

' Well, he's not so cross as you, and he's a beautiful dancer, and he's so gracefully made —and in fact, I do like him.'

'Better than me?' 1 You see my poor Tom he has so many advantages over you.'

' GrO ' I replied grinding my teeth, 'those advantages shall be short-lived.' Ind this time it was I who turned on my heel and left her. This was on the 27th of December, the second night of the pantomime. kt the fall of .the curtain I sought out Smithers and said, 'see here George, I've thought of a bit of business in that scene before the barber's shop. I get hold of your wand; you stand there so ; now do the shivery-shaking business while I tickle you up with it. Now you regain it—force me back—and I fall into a huge pot of bear's grease.' Smithers agreed. What deep design underlay this fooling ? Will you see ?

The next night, jnst before the scene was to be enacted -which we had planned, I stole down under the stage and unbolted a trap on the spot where I intended Smithers should stand. In the midst of his harlequin play I resolved to push him on this pitfall that he might precipitate himself down and break his limbs or his neck

Cautiously I stole back again and our interlude commenced. After allowing him to quiver and wriggle in his spangles while I shook my baton over him I placed my hand to his chest and pushed him on to the snare.

He did not fall! To my amazement the trap held.

Unsuspectingly Fmithers then repossessed himself of the wand and pushed me back. With a sudden gasp and cry I suddenly felt myself plunging down in the dark, striking my elbow and chin on the edge of the open trap. I lay there under the stage with a broken leg and fractured ribs. I had unbolted the wrong trap and fallen into my own snare. The audience as I heard afterwards, clapped and laughed, ascribing my disappearance to a concocted part of the business. An apology had to be made. Luckily for the manager a fellow happened to be in the company who was accoustomed to go clowning in an amateur sort of way and he offered to finish the harlequinade, taking my place. After a very short delay filled up with dancing, he was ready for his business.

They took me to the hospital and here I have lain for weeks and weeks. What my feelings have been in the long night watches I can never describe. The remorse, the consciousness how well I have deserved the doom 1 intended for another, the bitter repentance when George Smithers came to my bedside, full of kindly solicitude and J durst not confess then, though I will confess, please God when I have regained my strength—he shall know all. But all this alteration of sorrow regret and self-reproach, of desperate doubt and wild prayers for forgiveness, is only known in heaven and to me. It has been a bitter passage but it has done me good. lam calmer now. 3f I get better I shall give up all thoughts of Mary and resign her to one who never assailed a fellowcreature's life. 111. Tom Pudson, however, did not give up Mary— first because Mary declined to be given up ; and secondly, because George Smithers, alias Signor Tomato gave her up first. The harlequin was a gay sqark, who soon tired of a fancy, and a new face drove Mary out of his heart. So Mary returned to a more constant attachment, and Tom married her, made a clean breast of it to George and received his pardon. They are now doing well, for though Pudson's career as a clown is spoiled he has taken to singing with his wife in the music halls, and prospers comfortably.