 Section 10 of Mimic Life. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kelly Taylor. The Promptor's Daughter by Anna Coral-Mawet Ritchie. Chapter 1. The sweetest thing that ever grew beside a human door. Wordsworth. Reader, have you ever stood in the property room of a theatre? That mysterious receptacle of gilded sceptres and tinsel crowns of stage wealth, stage honours, and stage appliances for the use of representative heroes and heroines? It is in the property room of a London theatre that our story commences. The room is about nine feet square. It is windowless and might, by the untheatrical visitor, be called a closet. But the designation rudely painted over the door forbids. The words property room stand out in glaring letters and beneath no admission. A gas-branch sheds its bluish light on a heterogeneous mass of objects, ranged and heaped together in disorderly seeming order. Around three sides of the room run a set of shelves, nearly reaching to the ceiling. On the shelf nearest to the door stands a small chest with drawers, within which are portraits of absent lovers and lost children, lockets to be exhibited at some critical moment in the play, a gold-linked chain with a heart-attach, such as Roslyn gives to Orlando with the sweet words, gentlemen, wear this for me. One out of suits with fortune that could give more, but that her hand lacks means. A rude cross carved by no craftsman's hand, such as Saint Pierre recognises on the neck of Mariana, and thus discovers his sister. The snuff-box, which that drawer of a long bow, Claude Melono, declares that Louis XIV gave to his great-great-grandmother, and the diamond ring with which the same voracious individual asserts the doge of Venice married the Adriatic. Watches of various sizes, and apparently varying value. The countryman's turnip-shaped silver timeteller, the large gold watch for the robber's booty, the glistening bobble of the dashing bow, a set of purses of different textures, the velvet purse of the benevolent lady filled with gold coin and opening easily to dispense charities, the dingy leather and purse of the miser, only unclosing to be filled, the honest-looking, well-stuffed purse of the farmer, the empty, silken purse of the spin-thrift, pocket-books swelling with banknotes for naebobs and rich uncles. Tossing among these sentiment-suggesting objects are huge pieces of tobacco for Hoosiers, Yankees, and sailors, firecrackers for Little Pickle, handcuffs for the detective villains, and et cetera, et cetera. Upon a rack at one side hang a set of horse pistols for mounted desperados, several sets of dueling pistols for insulted individuals called upon to protect their honor, tomahawks and collaments, bowie knives for the lawless, swords of all ages and countries, daggers some too sharp for stage use, others that spring back harmlessly into their handles, bunches of keys, large ominous-looking ones for prison doors, small clusters to dangle at the waist of notable housekeepers. One gigantic key hangs up by itself. It is the one which the duke blocks up the fiery Juliana, informing the audience that there is much virtue in a locking key, but forgetting to tell them that the true padlock is on her mind. A little further on is suspended an antique lamp of grim aspect and classic shape, which does service in Juliet's tomb, dungeons, and all subterranean and sepulchre spaces. On the shelf lie truncheons, golden sceptres, a velvet cushion with a crown, the three coffers from which Portia's lover must make his choice to win a wife. The rustic basket filled with berries made of red flannel, which Parthenia bewitches the rude Ingomar into carrying, the golden goblet which she wreaths with flowers while humanizing the barbarian with her innocent prattle. Weaving an invisible chain as she twines the flowery band, baskets of painted fruits and mimic haunches of venison, such as adorn the table of the banished duke when Orlando rushes in with a drawn sword, commanding him to forbear and eat no more, until his famished companion has feasted. Tempting plum cakes concocted of paper mache, canvas-backed ducks manufactured out of canvas, bottles of different sizes labeled champagne, brandy, soda, poison. But when used harmlessly filled with treacle and water, glasses containing ice cream, that is, raw cotton, a huge punch bowl, innocent of anything stronger than sweetened water or lemonade, by its side stands the nutshell mug which Juliana, in her angry mood, offers to her husband's guest. In seemingly dangerous proximity you may see a red hot poker that never cools and sets of icicles that never melt, the bell that rings a deafening peel when Romeo kills Tybalt and all Verona is roused by the jarring of the rival houses, golden ink stands that will not hold ink. A couple of quills, obviously uncut, which write the parting words of despairing lovers, sign fatal contracts, add disinheriting coddles to rich uncle's wills. Just beyond is Virginia's last task, with Isilias's likeness so faithfully delineated and watercolors that the portrait is very evident to her father's eyes, though the audience usually failed to detect the resemblance. In one corner stands brooms for singing chambermaids, crooks for shepherds and shepherdesses, spears and staffs, walking sticks and canes of all descriptions, from the gold-headed cane of the opulent father, the rough stick of the uncouth farmer, whose duty it is in all place to protect the injured innocence, the well-boned whip of the dandy, to the well-worn walking crutch of Juliet's nurse. But in the opposite corner, less-cumbered, well-shaded nook, how strangely unsuited to the place seeing the objects there. A cradle, carefully curtain stands alone, a property cradle, it is true, but the tiny form within, the little white arm thrown over the baby head, those slightly parted lips, those closed eyes with their deep fringes lying on the soft cheek, are those also the crafty, handy work of the theatrical property man? A noiseless foot passes the threshold of the door. A young girl, attired for stage, as an English peasant approaches the cradle. She stoopes down gently and gazes on the little sleeping face. She almost hushes her breath to stifle back an involuntary sigh. She crouches close to the cradle, with her hands clasped on her knees, and watches the infant with a look of tender sadness. For some time she sits silent and motionless, then is heard the tinkling of a bell, the sound of some heavy object unrolling, and a fall as it touches the ground. It is the descending of the curtain at the close of an act. There is always a great bustle without, and the running to and fro of rapid feet, they are setting the stage for another act. Does the birdie sleep, ask a low voice at the door? Hush, hush, Robin, is the whispered answer. Better wake her up gently, Sue, the scene is nearly set. The speaker was Robin Trukhart, the hunchbacked prompter of the theatre. Like all hunchbacks, he was stunted in his growth and looked older than his years. Everybody designated him as the old prompter, yet he had hardly passed his prime. His fine, expansive brow was completely bald, and the few remaining locks that fringed his head were touched with silver. There was an unmistakable stamp of intellectuality on his pallid countenance, yet its most mark expression was of patience, patience the result of long discipline, patience which nothing could weary out, nothing disturb, and may well the lesson of patience be learned in a theatre by its prompter. He is perhaps the most harassing, temper-trying of all situations within those walls. He bears the whole burden of the play on his shoulder, but receives none of the applause. In thought he acts every part while seated in his own quiet nook. He follows every line, groans over every error, gives notice for every call, and has a host of responsible duties to discharge, of which the audience are in ignorance. It is chiefly upon the prompter that the irritability of the actors is visited. One falls into a rage because he has been prompted when he did not need the word. Another gets into a passion because he was not audibly prompted when he did need it. A third charges his own forgetfulness to the prompter, who, by watching him too closely, caused his obliviousness. Do what he may, the prompter is always accused of being in the wrong. In this severe school he either becomes highly irascible, or he is rendered patient in the extreme, bearing hard words and unreserved rebukes without self-defense, accepting them as the unavoidable evils of his lot, which he is bound to endure. And who is the fragile-looking girl of eighteen sitting upon the ground so close to that cradle with her eyes riveted upon the baby face and almost keeping time in her own breathing with the infant's lightly drawn breath? She is the wife of that hunchback prompter, the mother of that sleeping child. Susan's parents and grandparents had been actors for as many generations as they could trace back. The stage had descended to her as an inheritance. She knew no other vocation, never thought of adopting any other. Her parents had held responsible, but not high, positions in the theatre. She had just entered her fourteenth year when an epidemic, then raging in London, made her an orphan. There were none near of kin to protect or counsel her, none upon whom she had acclaimed saints out of charity. She was retained in the theatre in the capacity designated as general utility. It is the duty of the utility to speak a few unimportant lines, to deliver notes and messages on stage, to sing in choruses, to take part in ballroom scenes and dances where the numbers are required, and assist in filling up groups for tableau. Susan was tall. Her figure had that willow-like slenderness which betokens a rapid shooting up of the form, outstripping the strength. Her drooping shoulders and slight stoop seemed to indicate the bending humility of her character. Her features were too delicately fine to strike those who gazed upon her through the barrier of the footlights as beautiful. They only noted the profusion of alburn hair, which some might have termed red, the colour which the old masters loved to paint, those soft brown eyes, and exquisite fairness of complexion, and many wondered whether she were indebted to art for the latter, until the flush that came with a gesture or a word gave evidence that the hues were by nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. The melodious tones of her voice would sometimes attract, but no opportunity was ever offered her for the exhibition of talent. There were a thousand agencies at work in every theatre of which the uninitiated know nothing to prevent those in humble positions from rising. The might of great genius will force its way upward, but lesser talent, unaided by influence, is a fountain pent within a stony barrier raised by jealous hands. The fountain made bubble and sparkle, but unless it has strength to burst its bounds, the waters remain unacknowledged. So it was with Susan. There were those in the theatre who felt sure that she had fine dramatic powers, but their desire to keep her back, to drive her into the shade, and preclude her from taking a higher rank in the profession became all the greater. Her natural timidity amounted to diffidence and prevented the lonely, friendless girl from associating freely with those around her. From the manager, Mr. Higgins, a money-loving, bold, desolate man, she shrank with instinctive repugnance. He was struck with her ideal style of beauty. His quick eye soon discovered she had hidden abilities. He would have placed her in a position to display them, but she shunned his presence and met his insulting manifestations of admiration with that species of womanly dignity which awes even a libertine. She was but sixteen at the period alluded to, but she had had no childhood to put away. She knew none of childhood's buoyant joys, its careless lightness of heart, its elastic gambles over meadows and lawns. Her memory looked back upon no time unfilled by a daily routine of duties at the theatre. Yet she could scarcely be termed unhappy. She accepted her portion humbly, never rebelling at her lot, never questioning why a lot so lowly should have to be hers. She knew no unhallow desires gave entertainment to no evil thoughts. Through temperament and through culture her mind was a quick recipient of all holy influences. From the lips of a virtuous mother she had learned the great lesson of submission to the will of Providence, learned to do the work which her hand might find to do, and to do it with all her heart. He who learns this lesson, does this work, can never be classed among the unhappy. After the death of her parents the hunchback prompter was her chief friend in the theatre, her tacit protector. It was he who conducted her each night to their humble lodgings which her parents had occupied at their death. He who, when he could snatch a moment's time, instructed her in her duties. He who whispered a few comforting words when she was terrified by the harsh rebukes of the stage manager. One day Susan had been deeply wounded by some coarse expressions uttered by Mr. Higgins, and alarmed at his threat of dismissal if she maintained her habitual reserve. That night, as Robin was conducting her home, he could feel the arm that was locked in his tremble violently. He kindly inquired the cause of her agitation. The poor girl burst into tears. In a voice broken with sobs she confided to her soul friend the insults to which she had lately been subjected. Poor Robin! This was a critical moment in his life. Day by day he had watched that human flower expanding in unsullied purity. He had unconsciously appropriated it in thought, because it seemed as if no other had been sent for its guardianship. His deep and tender affection had strengthened in secret. He had never spoken to the young girl of love. It seemed so preposterous for him, a cripple, the old hunchback, as the actors called him, to offer his heart to a being so young and so beautiful. But his protection would be invaluable. She needed it so much. She seemed to cling to him. To come to him as her sole refuge. He must speak. Soon, he said in a husky tone, Sue, I wish I were your father or your brother. I would take such tender care of you no one would insult you or make you weep as you have tonight. Sue, I can't be your father or your brother, and I am a poor cripple, though not dwarfed or crippled in heart. And there is something I might be. Don't weep so, dear. Don't be offended. It's only for your good that I offer it. Not that I don't love you. I do, Sue. I love you as well as any father or brother could, as well as one was blessed with that other name could. Sue, do you understand me? Susan Sobs had suddenly abated, but she did not answer. I have not grieved you. I have not vexed you, asked Robin, in an alarmed tone. Oh, no, murmured the young girl. You are always so good to me. You are the only friend I have. Then, Sue, perhaps, for your own sake, for I should never venture to ask it for mine, perhaps you will give me the right to that dearer name, which I hardly dare speak. There was no reply. Will you, Sue? May I hope for it, urged Robin, encouraged by her silence and the entire cessation of her sobs. It seemed to him that she held her breath. She had grown so still. Perhaps the new thought had stunned her. She could not speak, but at his repeated questions she clung more closely to the arm he held. He felt that answer was enough. And, returning the pressure, thanked and lest her, and told her that he would be the truest husband that every woman had, though he was but a poor man and a cripple. And the exquisite words of Miranda, which Susan had so often heard delivered on the stage, flashed in her mind. My affections are then most humble. I have no ambition to see a goodlier man. They said no more that night, but parted at the street door of Susan's lodgings. She lay down with a strange sensation in her heart, wonder and pleasure mingled with a sense of pain which she could not comprehend. Her first thought in the morning was, Have I dreamt all this? But then she remembered Robin's tone and manner and began to say to herself how much better she loved him than she imagined the previous night would be possible. The sense of pain had almost passed away. She had someone to lean upon, someone to look up to, someone to render happy, someone to fill up all the voids of her dreary life. There was a rehearsal at ten o'clock and, strange to say, she was there before the hour, a rare occurrence for anyone connected with the profession, except the prompter. His arduous duties commenced in advance of the rehearsal. Robin was sitting at his table, arranging the calls in the book before him. He could not have heard her light step when she entered the half-dark stage, but he felt her presence and rose to meet her and conducted her to his seat with a tenderness of manner which he had never before dared to use. There was no one in the theatre at that hour except the carpenters at work at the back of the stage. They could not hear Robin's petition that Susan would not postpone the time when he might call her his. It is Saturday. The bands must be published on three Sundays. Why not tomorrow? said Robin hurriedly. Why will you not be asked in church tomorrow and, after service on the day of the third asking, let me call you holy mine? The sooner that I can feel that I am your protector, the better. Susan started and coloured, but recovered herself instantly and said, Tomorrow then, Robin. At the same moment she rose hastily from the prompter's chair for the actors had began to make their appearances at the wings. She retired to a quiet seat behind the scenes to think over all that had passed and remained there unnoticed until she was summoned to rehearse her few lines. She did not see Robin again that day except in the prompter's seat, apparently aggrossed in his duty. At night he took her home as usual, but they were both too meditative to converse much. Robin had been in the habit of accompanying Susan to church every Sabbath. The church her parents had attended ever since they came to that neighbourhood. They had chosen it at first because it was nearest to their residence. Of differences of creeds and doctrines and disputations concerning the exposition of scripture they thought not. Susan's mother was a being made up of sweetness and humility. Like the syrophoenician woman in the holy writ she would have been content to feed from the crumbs that fell from the Lord's table, not asking for the children's meat. But at that church this lowly minded woman and her husband had received spiritual food in such rich abundance that their souls were constantly strengthened and refreshed. The love of good gifted them with an instinctive perception of truth. They never befell or questioned God gave and they received. They belonged to the class of the simply good who accept heavenly truths with delight but cannot argue about them. Robin and Susan set side by side in the church that next Sabbath and when with the usual formality the names of Robin Trueheart and Susan Fairley were announced by the minister as being desirous of united and wedlock few were aware to whom these names belonged. Had any scanned the countenances of those who sat just in front of the altar in the free seats, the seats for the poor two countenances would have betrayed the secret. One kindled up with a flush of grateful joy and there was a proud swelling of the breast upon which the chin was resting as though the heart beneath were growing too large for its fleshly bounds. The other face was turned in maidenly modesty towards the ground the dropped lids hiding the eyes and a mantle of crimson blushes veiling this cheek. That week they saw little of each other except during the usual walk home at night and neither was sufficiently self-possessed to allude to the event which filled the thoughts of both. The church was not so distant from the theater that what transpired in the former was not quickly known in the latter. Susan was bantered upon her singular choice. Some sneeringly wished her joy of her young and handsome intended. Some openly chided her for throwing herself away. She had but one answer for all. I am content. The next Sabbath, when Robin Trueheart and Susan Fairley were again asked in church both manifested a decorous composure. For an instant Susan's eyes were raised to Robin's face as if already she were beginning to turn confidingly to him and his lips moved as though murmuring words of endearment that he had not before had the courage to utter. The next moment the attention of both was fixed upon the minister. Another week passed almost as the former had done except that Robin made arrangements with Mr. Gilder's leaf, the property man, for a room at his house. Mrs. Gilder's leaf had formerly been an actress but the care of a large family became incompatible with her professional duties and she now received a few lodgers, principally theatrical. Her husband remained attached to the theatre. On Saturday afternoon Robert was passing through Covent Garden Market to make out of his scanty means a few purchases for the morrow. Among the profusion of delicious fruits and exquisite flowers he noticed a bunch of newly gathered daisies. Their fresh bright yet humble beauty seemed to him so like that of Susan that he purchased them. That night as he parted from her at the door of their lodgings he placed the flowers in her hand and said, Will you wear them tomorrow Susan? They are so like yourself. When Robin came for her on the bright Sunday morning of the morrow came for his bride. He found her attired in a simple dress of virgin white and the daisies blooming on her bosom. The eyes of the day as they are poetically called and they seemed to look at him from their pure resting place a cluster of eyes full of promise and love. Mr. and Mrs. Gilder's leaf accompanied Robin and Susan to church. The bands were published for the third time. The service was over. The congregation dispersed. The minister came forward. Robin and Susan rose and approached the altar. There was an expression of surprise on the face of the holy man as the hunchbacked of a half century for such he seemed to the casual observer though he was in reality much younger presented himself as the bridegroom of the girl of sixteen. The dress illy matched as these twain at first glance appeared. The bearing of both was so indicative of serene composure and high purpose that as the clergyman preceded with the ceremony he thought he had never performed it before more intent and devout listeners. Never himself delivered the words more impressively. The blessing given and for the first time Robin pressed his young bride to his breast and imprinted upon her chased lips his first kiss. They spent that afternoon sitting beneath the majestic trees or wandering through the delightful walks of Kensington Garden conversing with each other as they had never conversed before communing as neither had ever communed with any other human being. Susan often looked back on that day as the first in which the morning star of happiness had dawned through the severing clouds that had enveloped her life. On the morrow it was with her arm and her husbands that the youthful bride walked into the rehearsal. As they entered the stage Robin led her to Mr. Higgins who stood talking to one of the carpenters and said, Allow me to present to you Mrs. Truhart, my wife. Your wife! exclaimed the disconfited manager. Yes, sir. We were married yesterday morning. Robin spoke these words in a tone so full of manly pride and his attitude was marked by such simple dignity that the contemptuous sneer died away upon the manager's lips and he exchanged it for a less scornful, I wish he joy. Mr. Tuttle, the stage manager, echoed the words of his superior. It was his want to follow in the wake of the latter and to take from him the cue which governed all his actions. Some of the company tittered and some congratulated Susan who stood by, pale and trembling. It was a trying day for her, a long, painful rehearsal and no chance of a word spoken to Robin. She concealed herself as often as she could escape notice behind the scenes and when rehearsal was over and Robin gathered up his books and sought her out to conduct her again to her new home she could no longer restrain her tears, tears of joy which fell upon the bosom of the poor prompter as he wound his long misshapen arms around the fragile form which he had henceforth the privilege of guarding. They were married two years at the period of which we now write and Susan had known a mother's aching joys and experienced the truth of the poet's prophecy. A child's kiss set upon thy sighing lips shall make thee glad and Robin's toilsome existence within the walls of that gloomy theater had suddenly been flooded with sunshine, sunshine that ever played around the forms of his wife and child. Robin still stood at the door of the property room and Sue still knelt beside the slumbering child forgetful of time and place. We want the cradle, Mrs. Trueheart, said Gildersleeve entering hastily, seeing just set little one must be taken up. Then I must wake you darling, sighed Susan and with the timid carefulness which very young mothers use in touching the first living treasure entrusted to their keeping she lifted the baby out of the cradle. The little features were drawn together as though the child were about to utter a cry but the blue eyes opened on the mother's countenance and the tiny puckered mouth relaxed into one of those shooting smile which Wordsworth calls feelers of love put forth as to explore the untried world. The child was twelve months old but remarkably diminutive and its complexion had a whitely waxing hue. A blossom nurtured in the dark that scarcely knew the sunlight and the fresh breezes of heaven no wonder it was colorless and feeble. The parents were too poor to pay an attendant. In their necessary absence the infant was left in charge of the kind-hearted Mrs. Gildersleeve but at her busy hands would receive but little attention. Often of a bright morning the young mother would awaken from her sounders at dawn and hastily dressing herself and the baby to pray the child to St. James Park and walk beneath the trees singing in a low voice to her little one and pondering upon her new blessings but though she rose with the sun the walk was necessarily short. She had to return to prepare breakfast then the other duties must be hurriedly performed and ten o'clock must find her at the theater ready for rehearsal. Robin could seldom accompany her in her morning ramble but he had undertaken the duties of assistant copyist as well as prompter. The copying out of parts occupied almost all his leisure moments but he received an extra renumeration. He could add to the comforts of his wife and child. He plotted through the additional labor cheerfully. His salary was but thirty shillings per week. Susan received one pound out of which she had a larger portion of her theatrical costumes to furnish. Thus her salary was diminished to a mere pittance. Tonight the infant of twelve months was to make its first appearance on the stage was to commence earning its livelihood. The play was a dramatized version of Dickens Cricket on the Hearth an infant was needed for Dot's baby the charge of supplying children for stage falls to the property man the children of course receive a trifling compensation Mr. Gilder's leave proposed to Sue that her husband allowed their child to commence a career which was inevitable. Both parents hesitated at first but necessity stronger than inclination forced them to consent. Tina was carried to the theater to make her debut. The stage represented Dot's apartment the kettle singing on the fire and Dot seated near the cradle where slumbered her infant. A cold shiver ran through poor Susan's frame as she walked upon the stage and laid her smiling nursing in the cradle. It seemed the commencement of life's hard struggles for the child. At Mr. Tuttle's authoritative clear the stage ladies and gentlemen Robin took Susan's hand and with some difficulty led her away. She stationed herself in the little nook behind his prompter's seat. He rang the bell which gave warning to the carpenters above and slowly the curtain rose. Sue could see her child lying in the cradle which Dot was rocking. Its large eyes were wide open. It had no cradle at home. The rocking was somehow new and pleasant and the infant's face beamed with delight. Presently Dot took up the child. She did not handle it dexterously or carefully for the young girl who played the part was not a mother. Susan started forward and had not Robin stayed her in time the probability is that she would have rushed upon the stage. The child attracted by the bright footlights stretched out its little arms towards them and laughed. A touch of perfect nature however simple will electrify a whole audience. The infantile action drew down a round of applause as though the child had well performed something which it had been taught. Tina saw the clapping hands and sportively imitated the action. Then the applause mingled with laughter grew louder and louder and round followed round. The unconscious child had made a hit. How Susan's heart beat. She crept close to Robin and whispered look at her, look at her Robin dear. God bless her, said the hunchback fervently. I was thinking that perhaps she will smile just so on all the hardships that come to those who must labor under this roof and that they will be a light to her. But don't talk to me, Sue dear. It's hard for me to keep my mind on the book. Somebody will be wanting a word for they are all loose enough in their parts tonight. No further conversation passed between Robin and Susan. He seemed absorbed in his book and she stood by his side with her eyes fixed on the child in Dot's arm. Various characters played took Tina. Still she chuckled and laughed and turned to the bright footlights with outstretched hands as though she would seize them. As the last scene ended and with one bound Sue was on the stage and caught the infant and covered it with kisses as though it had passed through some great peril. She carried it to the old crowded property room and then when no mortal eyes were gazing upon her she sank down upon her knees with the baby clasped close to her breast and prayed God to guard this little one from all harm to let her be a lamb in the Lord's fold to crown her with tender mercies and with loving kindness. Involuntarily she repeated the baptismal blessing which the minister had uttered over the infant on the last Sabbath. The Lord blessed thee and keep thee the Lord make his face to shine upon thee and be gracious to thee the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace. So ended Tina's first night on the stage. End of section 10. Section 11 of Mimic Life This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kelly Taylor. The Promptor's Daughter by Anna Cora Mawet Ritchie. Chapter 2 The cricket on the hearth was repeated a number of nights and Tina always appeared as Dot's baby always arrested the attention of the audience. A grand spectacle was in preparation entitled Time and His Wonderful Works. The wonders which time affects by gradual steps were exhibited as taking place instantaneously through a succession of marvelous transformations well-executed stage delusions. The sower strewed seed upon the bare earth time passed over the furrows with his iron-shod feet and low the ground was decked with verdure and bloom and cities sprang up where the fields of corn waved a moment before. The young lover, wooing his queen nymph in a bower of roses was breathed upon by time. The bower vanished. In its place appeared an old-fashioned fireside the enamored pair were metamorphicized into antiquated Darby and Joan shivering in the chimney corner. The seasons were also represented gliding with rapid transitions one into the other. Through very elaborate scenic effects spring was so minutely depicted that the spectators almost fancy they inhaled the breath of flowers and hearkened to a chorus of birds. In reality a fine imitation of their tuneful throats through the medium of musical whistles. A golden-haired child just dawning into maidenhood crowned with swelling buds bedecked with young leaves and fruit-tree blossoms presided over the year's first holiday time flitted across the scene the flowers expanded into perfect bloom the trees covered with foliage birds twittered on the bowels butterflies flew about in the air the rosy at light took on a warmer, more garish hue the maiden in her springtime disappeared a woman of oriental beauty in the full lustre of her charms reposed upon a bank luxurious with flowers garlands floated from her shoulders roses were scattered amidst her unbound lots and dropped their leaves to cushion her feet time glided by the trees were hung with fruit the leaves exchanged their emerald green for crimson and yellow tints the gathered harvest shown in the distance and beyond appeared a vineyard laden with amber and purple grapes the recumbent summer goddess was gone and a majestic-looking being of mellower, statelier beauty stood in her place the masses of her chestnut hair glittered with bright-hued fruit interwoven with the long pendant tendrils of the vine shooting downward like a veil her waist was girdled with autumnal leaves in her hand she carried a basket filled with the most delicious produce of the vines and the trees time passes once more the leaves fall, the bare trees sparkle with icicles the ground has suddenly sheeted over with snow mountains gleaming in perspective are coroneted with snowy wreaths the regal-looking queen of autumn is displaced by one of even more imperial beauty her severely classic features are colorless, passionless a diadem of icicles surmounts her black braided hair her vesture shines as with sleep the evergreen she holds in her hands are covered with ice the red berries of holly and the pearly mistletoe peep through lost in covering those who look upon her can hardly repress a transient shiver time carried a scythe in his right hand an hourglass hung at his girdle his wings were large and shaped like those of a bat his white beard flowed to his waist his blanched locks fell off his shoulders his left arm unfolded an infant a wax and doll had generally been used on similar occasions but Tina's appearance as Dot's baby and the attraction which the audience manifested towards her induced Mr. Tuttle to request that the child should supplant the usual wax and representative Robin and Susan had no alternative it was a bitter winter for them a winter full of struggles and hard upon all the poor the pittance that the child earned helped to supply its absolute wants food, school, clothing, medicine nutritious food Susan's maternal heart ached as she removed little Tina's woollen wrappings that a picturesque but very eerie garment might take their place the actor who personated time was an uncouth, untender bachelor he received the child from the arms of its mother as though it had been some inanimate piece of theatrical property he held it in the requisite position with a rough grasp when he stalked upon the stage he waved his scythe carelessly and as it glittered in the bright light Susan trembled as though she feared it would fall and crop her opening flower the apparent danger made her forget that the scythe was only a harmless bit of paste board and that the flash of steel merely proceeded from the innocent covering of silver paper little Tina seemed instinctively to become accustomed to the kind of life which she was destined to lead she lay contentedly in the arms of old time and even swept back from her cheek his white beard and wound her fingers in his floating locks Susan met time at his first exit explaining, oh Mr Crowfoot I am so fearful you hold the child too tightly she is very delicate get out of my way good woman the child is doing well enough it's not crying don't bother me or I shall forget my cues and then we shall have Tuttle forfeiting us both Tuttle is great on forfeit they help old Higgins treasury stand back will you and leave the child alone she dared not address him again but while Mr Crowfoot was looking over his part she stealthily clasped Tina's hand the cue was spoken more subtly than the actor expected he thrust his book into his bosom and not having noticed Susan's fond action rushed on the stage so abruptly that Tina was almost out of his arms the young mother was more cautious after this but she took her post at every wing where time was forced to make his exit she had asked Robin to tell her all the cues now she ventured to throw a warm shawl over the child's light drapery taking care to remove the need for protection the instant the cue was given the last marvelous transformation was over time made his final exit dropping his side half tossed the child into its mother's longing arms and unbuckled his heavy wings seemingly as glad to get rid of his animate as his inanimate emblematic accessories the spectacle found favor with the public and was repeated for thirty nights every night Tina lay nestling in the rude bosom of time perhaps she melted the stern heart beneath the soft pressure of her innocent form for gradually the actor grew more tender towards her touched her more gently and became more respectful to her mother one night when Susan placed her as usual in his arms the infant looked up so confidingly in his face that he involuntarily kissed the smiling mouth but ashamed of the action he laughed with a half-scal saying that he hated the little imps he even made some insolent speech to Susan about kissing the pretty mother through the child but Susan well knew that the child's angelic look had won the kiss she comprehended in what manner the hard-hearted actor was so often better than he understood himself and paid no heed to his audacious words shortly after the spectacle of time was withdrawn a secession of fairy pageants was produced and Tina was constantly in requisition she could now walk and had commenced to prattle intelligibly sometimes the audience beheld her curled up in a mammoth rose at the sound of music the flower unfolded and the child sprang out with a butterfly wings and a silver wand the fairy of the flower sometimes she represented the infant that Titania stole from its earthly mother sometimes she was a cupid speeding shafts in all directions sometimes a hobgoblin towards the close of the season burlesque and fairy pieces took place to legitimate dramas tragedies, melodramas, comedies then Tina had rest and even her rejoicing mother was now and then exempt from theatrical toil and could spend the evening home along with her child sometimes she was lured into Mrs. Gilder's lease cozy sitting room with Tina on her knee and her work in her hands she alternately chatted and she instructed the child or sang snatches of opera melodies in which Tina instinctively joined but never did the busy fingers cease their employment these were evenings of calm happiness which had but one auxiliary wanting their completeness Robin's presence he of course was in the theater at his nightly post long before the curtain rose and forced to remain until it descended for the last time one night he brought Susan the information that Mr. Upton who was then starring in a number of tragically terrible parts would enact roll-up on the ensuing evening and that Tina was cast as Cora's child this was the first regular drama in which Tina had appeared Susan herself was to personate one of the priestesses Susan had never seen the play at rehearsal instead of remaining in the green room until summoned by the call-boy according to the usual custom of actors she carried a small bench to one of the wings and sat down to watch the action of the scene when Tina first appears or rather Cora's child Cora is seated on a mossy bank and playing with the child at her knee Alonso, the father is leaning over them with delight the dialogue is delivered Cora now confess, does he resemble me or not Alonso indeed he is like her thee thy rosy softness thy smiling gentleness Cora but his alburn hair, the color of his eyes Alonso oh my lord's image and my heart's adored pressing the child to her bosom Alonso the little darling urchin may I doubt of some portion of thy love my Cora at least he shares caresses which till his birth were only mine Cora oh no Alonso a mother's love for her sweet babe is not a stealth from the dear father's store it is a new delight which turns and quickens gratitude to him the author of her augmented bliss Alonso I think me serious Cora I am sure he will speak soon then will be the last of the three holidays allowed by nature's sanction to the fond mother's heart Alonso what are those three Cora the ecstasy of his birth I pass that in part is selfish but when the first white blossoms of his teeth appear the crimson buds that did encase them that is a day of joy next when from his father's arm he runs without support and cleans laughing and delighted to his mother's knee that is the mother's heart's next holiday and sweeter still the third when air his little stammering tongue shall utter the grateful sound of father mother oh that is the dearest joy of all losing drank in every word and involuntarily murmured oh I could play Cora with my whole soul I have felt all that I have had those holidays with my Tina but they would never give me such a part to act they would not trust me with it though I could play it I feel that I could Alonso and Rola go forth to fight the Spaniards Alonso is taken prisoner by Pizarro Rola breaks to Cora the fatal intelligence that her husband is either slain or captive to the Spaniards she determines to seek him even in the Spanish camp and deaf to Rola's prayers and remonstruses snatches up the child distractedly exclaiming my child everywhere we shall be safe a wretched mother bearing a poor orphan in her arms has nature's passport through the world and rushes forward Cora is next seen in a thick forest her child asleep on a bed of leaves the elements are supposed to be at war the order is given theatrically for an abundance of thunder and lightning and rain at night manufactured tempest are omitted at her rehearsal Cora covers the child with her mantle and veil light and weary watches the leafy couch meanwhile Rola has sought Alonso and has found means to enter his dungeon and by strategy to set him at liberty remaining a prisoner in his place Alonso is passing through the very forest which Cora has just reached on her way to the Spanish camp Cora recognizes his voice in the distance and starting up joyfully flies to seek him two Spanish soldiers enter see the slumbering child and bear it away the child is taken by the soldiers to Pizarro and brought before him during his interview with Rola Rola unconsciously speaks of the boy as Alonso's child Pizarro on hearing this determines to keep the infant for through him Alonso is again his prisoner Rola argues with him, forgets the warrior and sinks upon his knees imploring that the child may be given back to the agonized mother Pizarro remains obdurate then Rola indignity starts up draws his sword and cries then was this sword heaven's gift he darts forward seizes the child by the arm and whirling him around with a wild melodramatic action the child's arms length above his head Tina uttered a shrill cry of pain as she was tightly grasped by the Tragedian and hurled aloft that cry pierced the mother's heart and she sprang up from her concealed seat and ran to the stage oh sir you have hurt her give her to me put her down you have dislocated her arm a stifled moan from the child showed that she was acutely suffering and the actor dropped his arm saying what was the brat whimpering about if she is going to do that at night she'll play the deuce with my best point Susan was examining Tina's arm and questioning the gentle child who even at that early age exhibited wonderful self-control and powers of endurance Robin too had left his propter's seat and was stooping anxiously over the little one fortunately the arm was not dislocated only slightly sprained the probabilities were that in a second experiment of the kind especially if made during the more impassioned acting at night the child's fragile arm would be dislocated or broken what is the meaning of this interruption demanded Mr. Tuttle in a dignified tone of rebuke Mrs. Trueheart leave the stage proceed sir with your part try that point over again but Susan's maternal nature conquered her habitual timidity stood up erect and determined before the cold blooded stage manager holding Tina's hands not with my child sir she answered in a voice such as no one had ever heard her use it was so firm and clear and almost defiant would you have her arm dislocated or broken do you think she would shriek unless the pain had been terrible she who hardly knows what it is to cry she never cried as other children do he must have almost broken her arm he shall not lift her in that manner again I'd not miss making that point for the arms of a dozen children said Upton excitedly then Mrs. Trueheart we must find another child if the new child feel one part she must feel all during the season we do not want two children regularly engaged in the theater answered total unconcernedly Susan turned deadly pale and was seized with an inward trembling the loss of the situation to the child and her own discharge which would probably follow were calamities that would bring starvation to her door still she stood and replied discharge us both sir if you please better that we should starve without employment than that I should see my child crippled it would only be in the fashion of the family sneered Upton under tone but the unfeeling taunt reached the ears of both Robin and Susan Susan take our daughter home said Robin Trueheart our daughter it was the first time she had heard him designate the child as our daughter and there was a strange limnity mingled with pride in his tone his countenance had grown more ashy than hers through suppressed emotion high hopes had he build upon that child's success in the theater in an instant they were dashed to the ground Mr. Higgins who had been writing at the stage manager's table now stepped forward he was a shrewd calculating selfish man the dislocation of a child's arm would to him have been a matter of very little importance but he knew how valuable Tina was in the theater he remembered that he paid both father and mother a much smaller son than would procure equally good substitutes for the situation he had noted the effect produced by that child upon the audience whenever she appeared and though his own heart had now and then warm towards her it was interest rather than any nobler feeling that prompted him to interfere is there no safer manner of lifting the child he inquired of the enraged actor no sir my point depends on by holding the drawn sword in one hand and chorus child in the other and my arm extended while I and in this attitude exemplifying and I wouldn't spoil that point for all the crime children in Christendom if this puny thing won't do let me have a child that will play the part Mr. Upton was drawing large houses that fact entitled him to the manager's respect his wishes must not be thwarted the piece was a favorite one it could not be withdrawn the piece was puzzled not so Mr. Tuttle as soon as he suspected his superior's desires he changed his tone not for all the world have this little darling injured padding Tina's head and speaking in a tone that he meant to be meltingly tender the point is easily managed Mr. Guildersleaf bring me a leather girdle the girdle was soon selected as heaps in the memorable property room Mr. Tuttle fastened it securely around the child's waist now Upton elevate the child by means of this belt hold it firmly here just at the back you will find your point equally effective I have seen it done a hundred times no let me try it first said the still alarmed mother as she made an awkward attempt to imitate the melodramatic of the Peruvian hero mother me not afraid said Tina please do it looking up winningly in the actor's face the Tragedian petulantly caught up the child throwing himself into a fine heroic attitude Tina smiled down upon her mother to show her that she felt safe and was unhurt roll-off continued then was this sword heaven's gift not mine who moves one step to follow me dies upon the spot he rushes out pursued by the Spaniards and is next seen crossing a high bridge bearing the child these stage bridges are often hurriedly and carelessly erected and cause frequent accidents Susan could hardly choke down an exclamation of horror the soldiers fire on roll-off but the firing is not rehearsed at night this would be another dreadful moment how could she endure to see the guns pointed at her child some of them might accidentally be loaded a ball is supposed to strike Rolla when the audience next behold him he staggers into Atalaba's tent reels towards Korra places the child on her bosom and at her frightened exclamation of oh heaven there's blood upon him gasp out to my blood Korra and an instant afterwards dies Susan had been deeply interested in the plot of the drama but the rehearsal towards its close had caused her a succession of agonies that bridge those guns they haunted her the rest of the day again and again she charged Robin to try the bridge himself and to inspect every gun carefully he promised to do so and he was a little fear of his breaking his word night came and Susan half forgot her fears as she dressed Tina and found how lovely she looked in her snowy tunic and golden girdle beneath which the important leather band was safely fastened a white fillet circled her curling locks which had taken the hue of amber when it reflects back array of the sun the child had been gifted with beauty, beauty of an ethereal highly spiritual character her limbs were exquisitely symmetrical though so diminutive the brilliant whiteness of her complexion had an almost unearthly aspect and Susan would never allow a touch of stage rouge to profane the child's colorless cheek her singularly dilated eyes but for their soft expression would have seemed too large for her delicate face the moist unfathomable blue of those large eyes gave out its light as a twilight shows a star and drew the heart of the beholder in her brow was high and when the clustering curls were gathered back the most careless eye would note that its development strikingly resembled that of her father she inherited to her father's impenetrable patience had not like his a touch of sadness it had not been the offspring of trial it was a natural gift which early training daily perfected her mother's softness seemed to have infused into her own more vivacious spirit and invents itself even in the midst of exuberant joyfulness the sport of glee that neither father nor mother had ever known all her motions were light, rapid full of untutored freedom the wonderful elasticity of her limbs supplied the want of strength the life of exertion which it commenced from her cradle had enured her to bear greater fatigue without injury how few save those who have had their faculties called into constant action know what wonders habit will accomplish there was something about the child an indescribable hallowing presence that produced a market effect throughout the theater I once saw a sunbeam stealing through a crevice in the roof and glancing upon the darken stage at rehearsal that single streak of golden light falling upon the dust and paint and faded scenery and glaring imitations of nature spoke to me with a thrilling tone of green murmuring foliage of air voiceful with rural sounds of the flower studded earth of nature's rich storehouse of vernal treasures of all that sunbeam shown upon far away from this mockery and drudgery this mimicry and misery as I watched the beam illuminating the surrounding bloom my mind was filled with fresh and strengthening aspirations that belonged not to this life of representation that had no affinity with the place and the hour it was years ago yet I have never forgotten that one ray of light and the sensations and reflections which it called into existence Tina is closely associated with that sun ray in my thoughts she was the living sunbeam shining through the darkness of selfishness and strife in the theater to which she belonged she lured all things on to love her she discovered an unconsciously threaded her way through some vulnerable avenue into almost every heart voices softened when they spoke to her unsmiling lips brew blender at her caress unloving eyes shown with something like affection when they looked into hers the purifying sphere of innocence the sphere of angels about childhood which though invisible is so often perceived gradually penetrated with its holy influence the spirits of all those with whom she communicated Susan too was treated with more consideration and respect because the child was hers Robin whose quiet upright constancy of conduct won him spontaneous esteem since Tina's end in the theater had become a person of decided importance those who a few years back either spurned or pity the old hunchback regarded him with a feeling akin to envy when that lovely child would spring upon his knees and wind her arms around his neck and cover his furrowed cheeks with kisses and tenderly pat the protruding hunch as though it were a special object for caresses and what was the child to Robin the poor proctor whose days were passing within sunless walls whose evenings and the gas-lighted glare of the theater upon whose soul stage dust had fallen in such thick clouds that they shut out all nature's pastoral loveliness who breathed but gaseous air who only knew beautyous sounds and sights and noble deeds and heroic sacrifices through the inspirations of the poets which he heard declaimed and saw represented until his brain whirled with imaginings which the eye and heart longed to pronounce realities all that his life had lacked before all that had foregone Tina was to him now he pineeth not for fields and brooks, wild flowers and singing birds for summer smileeth in her looks and singeth in her words the child and its mother transformed his life of care and anxiety into a paradisical existence but to return to Pizarro the drama was enacted with more than the usual eclat Tina's appearance called forth a warm welcome pieces of silver and gold were showered upon the stage Tina already knew something of the value of money already comprehended the privations and necessities of her parents she looked at the glittering coin with wishful eyes that it would not be withdrawn she had been taught that she must not stoop and gather these showered donations true they were intended for her but stage etiquette of long established standing had decreed that the money thrown upon the stage should become the perquisite of the carpenters and the propertymen once Tina had put her foot upon a half sovereign she thought that no one saw her her life limb with the strong temptation she might so easily pick it up it would buy coal for her mother then came a sensation of having committed some indefinite wrong of fear and oppression she pushed the shining gold coin away and averted her eyes thus early she was tempted thus early did she learn resistance so great were surzins heart fluttering when Rola drew his sword and seized Rola's child that the anxious mother hid her face the leaven girdle might not be securely fastened might break she could not look she heard the well-known words heard the thunders of applause which the traditions favorite point always elicited and then robin's whisper greeted her ear all right the birdies quite safe see how lovely she looked and how she smiles at you and dared look up Rola rushed from the stage with the child still held aloft ran rapidly past Susan and ascended the steps which led to the bridge without lowering his burden of course the instant he appeared upon the bridge the guns of the Spaniards were level towards him they were fired so suddenly that Susan saw the danger was over before she had time for a new alarm she hurried around behind the flaps of the left hand wing where Rola after crossing the bridge had made his exit she found him dabbing her child's dress with his own red paint a darkish imitation of not very helpful blood Susan did not venture to address him the work was accomplished rapidly and silently again Rola appeared before the audience Cora received her child the hero died soon after the curtain fell and Nina in her bloodstained dress bounded joyfully into her mother's arms that same season she enacted the Count's child and the stranger the petted child in grandfather whitehead one of the babes in the wood and a number of similar parts now and then Susan experienced the delight upon the stage with her child on these rare occasions what artist would not have thought the face of the hunchback prompter as he watched them both a study end of section 11 section 12 of Mimic Life this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Kelly Taylor the prompter's daughter by Anna Cora Mallet Richie chapter 3 as the atmosphere of the hot house the flower into rapid development so Tino's premature training produced a precocious mental expansion with unwirried devotion her parents seized every leisure moment to instruct the child neither reflected that they were cultivating her brain at the expense of her physique making large drowsse upon the former which must inevitably impoverish the latter undermining her finely molded organization for the transient display of its marvelous construction to sow the seeds of religious knowledge as early as her infant line could receive them was not to commit a similar error as soon as she could lisp she had been taught to fold her hands and bow her knees and lift up her soft voice in prayer the word of God had grown familiar to her ears before she could read and her puzzling questions often tested the theological knowledge of her parents as the mother wondered over the child's quick perception and all scriptural matters she would say to herself children are so much nearer heaven than we it must be so for does not the holy writ tell us that their angels the angels who watch over them do always see the face of our heavenly father she had no thought of ever sending Tina to school that is to any but Sabbath school of the neighboring church there she became a pupil at five years old one of those saintly young girls whose life fashion could not fill up and satisfy who yearned to bestow on others good gifts she had received whose heart longed to perform uses and dispense blessings finding that her position in aristocratic society closed many avenues to this exercise of good offered herself as a teacher in that Sunday school she was very zealous in seeking out little limbs to bring into the fold of Sabbath day instruction she had noticed Tina in church and one Sunday accosted Susan and ask her to allow the child to join a class just forming Susan gladly consented when she and Robin talked over Miss Armory's proposition he said perhaps they may teach her more than we know let's give the birdie all the knowledge of the other world that we can that it may be a help to her in this truth will be a staff for her to lean upon to keep her feet from stumbling on the rough road did you mark Susan what the good old clergyman said in his sermon this morning that every day every hour every minute we spend here has its effect upon our lives eternity that we are every day building the mansion in which we are to dwell hereafter that we may lay broad and deep and erect a noble edifice or so cramp our souls that they will only be fit to inhabit a narrow and sunless home in the eternal future how something stirred within my spirit and responded to his words when he said that if we loved Lord in our in most hearts there would be no difficulty about the ways and means of serving him and he would surely give us the desired opportunity he would afford us faculties for developing all that is good and true within us he would meet us in our business our social intercourse our very recreations that we would no longer look upon life as so much drudgery so much to be done for the mere sake of substance but that all things would seem in light of uses of things to be done in order to exercise the heavenly quality of benefitting and blessing those around us that this quality would thus grow daily and expand our souls that the blessings of life would be continually multiplied and trials and temptations and troubles and misfortunes all turned to blessings were not those his words sue do you remember them yes every syllable and who can feel their truth better than you and I Robin the next Sabbath found Tina at Sunday school seated with a group of little girls in Miss Armory's class when the bells began to toll and school was dismissed Tina's young mother and hunchback father were standing at the door awaiting her they could not bear to be separated from their child in church their holy enjoyment of the service was not complete unless she sat between them for those three were all the world to each other all of human existence they asked to make heaven of the other world thus Sabbath after Sabbath passed Tina and her parents loved this day of rest and worship better than all others the child became a great favorite but the latter knew nothing of Tina's history a theater the young Sunday school teacher had never entered she had adopted the social fiction had become the dupe of that ignorant prejudice which caused her to look upon the temple of dramatic art with a half species of horror she entertained a mysterious sort of belief that the theater was some sort of dreadful place replete with a bane of spiritual influences that none but worthless people found employment there a theater and the angelic looking child over whose spirituality gentleness and intellectual brilliancy she had so often wondered were never associated in her mind but it was not possible for this state of things to last Tina had become so great an attraction at the theater that plays were constantly selected for the very purpose of displaying her histrionic talents she now began to personate important parts her naturalness of manner richly cadence voice her correct enunciation and fine elocution the result of her father's careful training and the impulsiveness with which she threw herself into her role produced startling effects it chants that one of Tina's school companions belonging to a proud but Parnouveau family saw Tina at the theater recognized her look for her name on the play bill and found it Tina Trueheart the same as her youthful associate the ill-bred girl drew indignant at the recollection of the familiar manner in which she had conversed with the little actress she remembered that she had made room for the pretty child to sit by her side had begged her not to occupy any other place had coaxed Tina to use her books had encircled her waist with her arm when they were reading from the same Bible the wrath of Ms. Haughtonville rose in proportion to the measure of kindness bestowed on the juvenile but unrecognized actress the next Sunday Tina entered the school at a later hour than usual she had been much fatigued during the week and Susan could not bear to wake her from the deep refreshing sleep which sealed her eyelids long after daylight she entered radiant with smiles her fair hair dropping in a shower of natural curls around her hueless face which even her rapid walking had failed to tinge she was breathing so quickly the hurried exercise that she could hardly wish her teacher good morning she took her seat as usual beside Ms. Haughtonville but the young girl who was four years her senior cast upon her a look of serial comic disdain rose and changed her place don't go away Clara there is room enough why are you going said Tina affectionately though still panting for breath I did not know I had been associating with an actress Ms. Tina true heart and I would not demean myself by sitting beside an actress's daughter an actress exclaimed the young teacher an actress echoed several of the elder scholars yes an actress replied Ms. Haughtonville I saw her on the stage myself last Friday night all dressed out in gauze and spangles and I saw her mother too they're both actresses it's perfectly shocking to think of her being here associating with us Tina's very pulses seemed suspended so great was her amazement she sat staring at Ms. Haughtonville as though some waking nightmare possessed her when her power of utterance returned she bent towards her teacher and gasped out shocking what does she mean Ms. Armory was so startled at this sudden revelation that she quite forgot the child's possible sensations and could only say in a deprecatory tone it's not true you don't belong to such a shocking place as the theater shocking place started up we don't belong to any shocking place my dear mother and my father they are as good as good as good as you want me to be when you tell me that I must be one of God's children Tina's slight frame shook violently and her voice was so tearfully tremulous that she could hardly articulate is your mother an actress are you an actress asked Ms. Armory yes my father is a proctor an assistant copyist and my mother acts utility parts and I act the children replied Tina becoming more composed through the conviction that no just reproach could attach itself to them and what is that to do with anything shocking with anything wrong the child's innocent face the guileless tone of her voice with these words and the earnest indignant manner in which she defended her parents recalled Ms. Armory to herself the thought flashed through her mind I have unintentionally wounded and injured this poor child what do I know about theaters the theater may be the terrible place they say it is but I have found nothing but godliness in this little child Tina stood looking in her teacher's face with some unshed tears and her unusually pallid countenance crimson by a sense of shame which she could not herself comprehend sit down Tina and we will say no more about it said Ms. Armory you are here to learn your catechism and the lesson from the word and I have always found you a good little girl and very obedient and studious I have no fault to find with your conduct here the child remains standing but my mother, my dear mother you do not think you will not let these young ladies think that she would do anything shocking oh Ms. Lucy you don't know my mother how good she is you are right to love her Tina no doubt she is very good there sit down Tina obeyed and took her seat as far as possible from any of the other children she did not comprehend the charge brought against her or her beloved parents but she was instinctively conscious of a barrier raised between herself and her former companions in vain she attempted to fix her mind upon her book she kept involuntarily repeating the words shocking, shocking how is it shocking how is it bad what could they mean when Sunday school was over they noticed her sweet eyes imperiled with tears her flushed cheeks and agitated manner the hearts of both were troubled with a vague fear that half-divined the truth the service seemed very, very long that day when it ended they were in the street again Tina in a hurried excited manner related all that had passed oh my birdie has the knowledge of the world's prejudice the world's injustice to us poor slaves of an ungrateful public come to you so soon said the father you must even learn to bear all their hard sayings hoping never to deserve them the father what did they mean by shocking what did they mean by calling the theater a shocking place I don't know how I can make you understand it clearly precious birdie but to theaters there have sometimes belonged bad persons bad men and women who were actors and actresses and their sinfulness was made known to the world generally it is exaggerated and believed to be far greater than it was and so it came about that some people are prone to think that everyone belonging to a theater is exaggerated but it is not so my child we have among us as the annals of crime show that other professions even the highest the ministry of God itself have unprincipled and wicked people but we have true honest God fearing people also when you hear anyone say otherwise think of your dear mother he pressed Susan's arm as on the day when he promised to be all to her and remember that what the world thinks cannot harm you it is what the Lord thinks the Lord who sees your heart your actions and intentions what he thinks alone has true importance but must I go to Sunday school again father when I know they will think ill of me and my mother and think that I belong to a shocking place that word shocking graded so harshly upon Tina's young ears she could not forget it yes my daughter you must go and you must bear whatever slides you may meet with you may have to encounter them in life and they cannot harm you when we reach home I will read to you about some great and good men the benefactors of their country who have been rebelled and misjudged all their lives but those who were wholly minded perform their duties courageously saying and their spirits were not broken because they were ill-used and misunderstood as the week glided on Tina for the first time dreaded the approach of the Sabbath though she never thought of shirking from the trial through which her father wished her to pass Sunday came a lovely calm bright day the bells chimed so musically everything intimate and inanimate seemed to know that it was the Sabbath of their Lord with a slow step and drooping head Tina entered the Sunday school her eyes were cast down as as she dreaded to meet the many curious looks turned upon her for the news that she belonged to that mysterious place a theater had rapidly spread throughout the school and the children leaned their heads together and whispered as she passed them class Miss Armory accosted her kindly without lifting her eyes she seated herself meekly apart from the other scholars no words were spoken except on the subject of the lesson no illusion was made to the occurrences of the Sunday previous from that day her whole demeanor underwent a change the Frollox some child was no more all her buoyancy disappeared her features were lessened expression her ease of manner was displaced by a fawn like fearfulness that shrank from contact with strangers she had learned her first sad lesson in life there was a chill about her young heart which could not be warmed away her deep dreamy eyes still smiled constantly smiled on all they looked upon and the smile of the eye says more than that upon the lips dimpling laughter that was want to irradiate that face was hushed forever more many Sabbath past in the same manner as this Tina was wholly separated from her former friends that is she withdrew herself from them dreading that they might shun her but there were many who longed to speak to the little girl many who were touched by her sweet submissive ways some had lately her on the stage and were curious to approach the public favorite nearer one Sunday she reached the school unusually early the superintendent and teachers were not present only a few scholars were assembled these mustered courage to gather around Tina and ask her questions she answered shyly but politely won't you walk on your toes for us ask one little miss do said another and make us a pirouette won't you I do so want to see what they call a pirouette you might act a little for us before the teachers come said another now don't be ill-tempered but show off yes show off show off cried all the children Tina was so surrounded that she did not know which way to turn her juvenile persecutors met her on all sides none she needed her embarrassment her prayers to be left to herself the children only urged her more pertinaciously to show off they even seized her and tried to drag her to the platform where stood the superintendent's desk and chair children are such cruel tyrants at times in vain Tina remonstrated and struggled they were forcing her up to the platform when the entrance of one of the teachers occasioned her release it was not easy to re-smooth the bruffled plumage of Robin's poor birdie and her little heart fluttered like that of any bird when pursued by vultures but Tina remembered her father's words and she sank down in her quiet corner without uttering a complaint end of section 12