A PAIR BALLET SHOES

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 11365, 7 May 1900, Page 3

A PAIR BALLET SHOES

'' '„* I'm th& dullest of men," said Ed- ' " B S with the smile of long suffering, 1 ' '■ V thf'd interviewer, who was trying to 'to ft.? 0 " 1 , L feff moro crumbs of interest at }l •••'. ■'■ f#* U , P fMa long talk with the most inimitlhr D m Snoftheday. :\ ■■'■3t^^ af St> glanced abstractedly round '' ■•''■ -■' *% Mid racked his brains for a suitable ? ':•'■■' & is fl 7 ' but ho couldn't for tho life of him < *" ii at the minute any of tho anti-t-"i :tel l% theatrical stories that every actor | -V'-- 11 . this own. The youthful interviewer was '•' •'■' ?fl down shorthand notes. h i This own. The him 35. interviewer was S down shorthand notes. *BH3Ua I<™ 35. Short-wiry- ■ • : ■ ■'■ ■ Mniwlfl for success-incessant cigarettes I ■■"■.• PS"" lined face-keen eyes-serious cx- |"''■ '- deeply that ? odd I Close as an oystori '■: $ffh down as frank and genial." . 'W IL interviewer roso from his chair ! M a Sold print which the popular •■■•-: *° l M'nfpd out. A couplo of oval mir- - ; '"■■'■ ££»m a glowing reflection in miniature of ClaS, comfortable .room. ~ a ■ th The youthful interviewer's eyes wandered : ; :; ,„riousfy round and fell on » quaint little pa. < KSI Which were hanging over the oal ■lice. Not dainty slippers, spangled an • fireP nut lost a limp memento of the ballo ■';■■'■■■ Sffcwnindfld toes, no heels, and an old cove ; - : ??oTSIt worn and frayed. They hug ; £1-S the wall with the little toes turrd :: vS if their dancing days were over, ad i' - }],'« were far too weary for a pirouottoir • Sen the first position. • »A curious souvenir, Mr. Brooke/)b- ---: ■■ •ored the youthful interviewer. '•■:■: Edgar Brooko gave him a questions ■ -lance then his eye also fell on the sbes. ''■■■&, smiled, and there was silence for a mjute. •• : ' ; -• The comedian had forgotten the yothful ■ interviewer.' He seemed to seo tholittlo hoes dancing on tho wall. His comfrtablo ' . .■2 faded out of sight There ws the • '■ sound of scraping fiddles and tho flareof gas. "••':• 'Twenty years had slipped away in hraly as , . puny seconds. • •/, It was behind the scenes of j country theatre The close air of a littleroom alii most stifled Edgar Brooke. He drssed with : lie pantaloon, two acrobats, and no demon ting of the pantomime , Their clothes were heaped on» basket in >:'bne corner. Tlio pantaloon ws "making ' • ' «n " and the demon king was druking whisky . : and soda, and reading scraps frcfl tho Sport- "'■■■. ing Times.to amuse the two aenbats. ' Edgar Brooke, hungry eyed, lan, and hag- "" eard sit with his aching hear between his ''Lids'*' His tinselled harloiuin suit was loose for his wasted body, Honths of ill- '■: * ''• ness hard luck, and poverty nad taken the heart and soul out of him. flio crowded ./'houses woro his judges, ana he stood con- : ' 'He gave, s, sigh of th:nkfulnc?s whon his noisy comrades wero sunmoned to the stage, ' and he was alone. '.-j-"Heard that Brooke has got tho sack? M id the .pantaloon, as hey went downstairs. r "Yes, poor devil!" answered tho demon •;,',, king. ' I Then, was tho quick patter of feet on thovetairs; the doa - was pushed a little open, and a Columbne, in gauze and a : l smile, peeped into Bnoke's dressing-room. (• ''' ?% Not a woodland spite on near view, but I ■ ..a fairy of the footliglts, with tho gauze of '■'-- her short skirts somewiat crushed and worn, -'the roses cf tho wreath round her head (ill I toogaudy for their lim), pale stalks: a tinsel -Star on net wand, and lor small ballet shoes - dotted with tarnished spamrles. .'i- '!Eddy, darling!" sin exclaimed, running into i7io room and peiching herself on the •V Pantaloon's basket. Tie young man looked . ', . up, too wretched to bile tho marks of tears ; on his face, or to try t> control his still unsteady lips. '."It's all up, Kitty!' ho replied, "I've got my notice, dear! Run downstairs—you ; -shouldn't come up. Ono day they'll catch .; ' you!" '. ■: He rose, but caught it the back of his chair ..■'• »nd sat down again. The Columbine turned ij white under her "make up." "■ '■■. '.. Although she was only sixteen, thoy had : . .; • been solemnly engaged for two months. Tho •; ■•; ; i original idea was marriage at the end of the l '■') run of the" pantomime; a London engage- ' ment, followed by successful management— "' ;i flat near Hyde Park—unlimited photo- . ; ; graphs of the Columbine (as Juliet) in nil the shop windows. True, Kitty was only " ' ;';ia receipt of one pound sterling from a not too lavish management, but Edgar's weekly •.;.: income was decidedly better— got a y guinea. • ■';■':•;■ "My own love!" said tho Columbine, ; jumping off the basket and kneeling down ..'beside him, "you don't know yourself— Hone of these fools know you! You are Xworth more than the wholo lot!" 4 . "Oh, Kitty. Kitty! I can't bear it!" 5 [ Broken by weakness and despair, ho drew / Kitty's slender arms round his neck, and, I - resting his head on her shoulder, sobbed aloud. ■.'• |- It was during those few minutes, while ho j \ '■'■• clung to her in the tender silence of her i sympathy.' that tho girl left her childhood behind and became a woman. "You must cheer up, Eddy!" she whispered. "Listen, dear! The harlequinade will begin directly. let me help you! ■ Aro yen ready?" ' She persuaded him to stand up; hunted for his small mask and stiff wand, shook herlelf together, and <;ave a touch to her own ;. oomnlexion before tho glass. •' Edgar Brooke went down to the stage with i bis hand on her shoulder. The loud, crash- | iagmuno from the orchestra, mingled with j the noise of hurrying men, changing the | ' scenery in' the short interval beforo the harlequinade. < The manager of the company was stand- , ing with his back to the curtain. Ho was a good-natured, heavy, purple-faced man, but the responsibility of two (to quote the bills) "Idyllic Ballets," and a transformation | scene, entitled, "A Dream of Peace," had | soured his temper considerably. .. "'Urry up there!" said the manager. ! "Have you got that side braced? My boy, j your butcher's shop's wobbling. Lights! ! , • .Angit'all! Lights! Knock 'im off! Ring I up! Now, my dear—" '« Up weKt the curtain, am ' on went the ' Columbine, with a flying bound and a beaming smile v Edgar Brooke leaned against tho wall for a second with his clenched hand to his throbbing brow. Then ho too ran into the glare of the stage. j i He could'see nothing but an endless row of : horizontal, blurred lights, that were dancing between him and the audionce: tho houso j teemed to' be full of fog. Columbine tripped towards hi, =he took his hand, and they twisted and turned together. Darling!" she said, and somehow they ' made an t exit, and were standing once more in the shadow of tho wings. the harlequinade was short and bustling, i and at the finish the Harlequin had to take ' the usual flying leap through the window of the butcher's shop. Brooke and his sweetheart again made their I entrance hand in hand. ' • "Stand still, Eddie!" she whispered, and ! . .en danced round him with a hundred littlo i "icky stops and beckoning gestures. j ,•••»he cue' came, Harlequin struck the ' ground'with his wand and leapt. It was a j last effort. Luck and training guided him to I ™ right spot. He shot through tho ' J 1 kV c,can, as an arrow . aml was ! caught by the men who were waiting to re- ; in'™. him. He rose to his feet, still cling- ! ti S ,J, " arms - staggered a minute, and '"■en Ml f al - nting to th(J mm] .. A lucky little chap!" said one of the tten. ' ' „,-j^ ot an ouncp of flesh on his bones!" ' »id tho other. i _ When Edgar Brooke came to himself, ha | *" lying on a bench hastily dragged on to > stage. He saw that the gas jets in tllo I for \t m h,rne(l " ff: the curtain was raised, ! inri ?- n v sy aU(iioncß ha d P°" re d, laughing I Wdl whistling, into the street. i the" ™ nch was near to the footlights, but i wain • Vfir ° lowere d. and it was an j ' : side «3' ™pering group of people on every ' ness ffrudl,all crept into bis conscious- ' tti tler °, was the manager stooping over him, | ':'bJZ hand on his breast and a big fin « I • mm to his pulsa; beside him was tho - still ' ?'•' Wl « amoved, but tho "make-up" . • nv l,?• L s . faco ' and " old Invorness pulled ■ >•. 01 ? his flimsy clothes. ' i ' - tiling' v'." 10 Kir ' 3 wero F,il l in their cos- ™« with their hair falling untidily on their tho nld f I rs » summoned from their rooms by had /' Curiosit Tho Principal Boy '•' Mi on llor wallf !n 8 Jacket and a short "•■ liJi p " f , 1TO '' I t. over the scanty attiro adop- '%■■. ; w«. i -^' Ck Whittington. The whole scene ■;••:.•■" ]~„„, iT w T and stran « o *° the P ale - ex " ;'■ ■'«.„. harlequin, as he sank back again on :, w™*™ of the Demon King. r-'"'- ; in"° • TV"' 8 eyes, but suddenly the "ingn K *u olo l of ft ' Columbine seemed to leap out '•'■. 01 »e babel of tongues. •• be rii firßt ho C0 "l ( l not follow what she said '" : one? a. rtow crccl was lll ° little figure, at '' "W pathetic and eloquent of lovo and tho : "««> earnestness of youth. Slowly her words took shape, disconnected ;''. '•:• ~ broken as tho sentences wore. " . be In a couple of months this old panto will ■' mSI ■ »°««1. "Wo shall all go cast ''"'•''''- hero fV" th ? Ijord knows whore 1 But look ; --"'-'" ; ol i' w °ve boon good friends, haven't wo? • kind good fnonds! You fellow, have been you tw me, , 11 of y° But there's one of W. , I love-there! I lovo him! Why? ; rwertv . 6 , 8 -, ouht against trouble and " pr i. ftn illness.. Because his heart has Sht;2™ tillto - night ' rlltollyou ■'■>V; ; r v':^ ,; - '•■:',. hi'k ■:■::■;-■ ■'.•■ ..'■

HTTI ~ - 5 There was intensity in her voice, and faco that she / Id ™em silent arid absorbed for a fewmmire 3/ e 3 more. , '"It's just fa Edgar Brooko has no soul on earth to ', a to! I tell you lie's danced f> in a booth,- 0 s sung in tho streets. Ho's o worked, he starved I He's looked at life { undor the oj,™; he's thought of death under i tho 6kicsl T hats tho stuff for an actor to be mado I' Edgar j oo ™ put out his hand to stop her, d but she nt on with flashing eyes. [ e "We(what do you say? Shall it bo a n round ff in - for the sako of our own hard . times? Com I Wo all know where tho shoo '" pinehf ir Shc° ent down and pulled off ono of her is own'iocs, and held it out to tho manager first'f a]!- Ho might havo resisted tho dis-con-'cted little speech, but not tho pretty fae tu up so appealingly to his— couplo is O fomß chinked into the shoe.' '■• rdgar felt his cheeks burn, for the theatre - vis his littlo world, and the quick response ( his comrades touched and amazed him. r His wistful oyes followed Columbine, as she r ripped from ono to another— with a jest '• ir smilenow with a tear. f When she brought the littlo shoo to tho side of tho bench at last, ho could only i stretch out his bands to the crowd that pressed round. He tried to thank them; looked up to tho Columbine, with a few broken words, and turned his face away. Tho ring of encouraging voices, the flicker of uncertain lights, iiio touch of the girl's fingers twined round his hand, faded into misty shadow of sound and sight, and wero gone as swiftly as they came. "A curious memento, Mr. Brooko?" said »'.e Youthful Interviowor again, recalling the popular comedian to tho faded ballet shoes. 'Yes, yes," said Edgar Brooke, lightly, " but it would scarcely interest you. By the way, did I tell you that my wife was a dancer before we married—a long time ago?"