THE THEATRICALS.
A very mixed audience filled to overflowing the town-hall of Montfield.
In the front-seats, which had been cleverly reserved for them by
a small advance in price, were seated the _élite_ of the village,
complacently chatting together of the weather, the exhibition, their
servants, and such small gossip as serves to savor the somewhat insipid
existence of a country village. Behind these sat the farmers with their
wives and daughters; the former regarding the curtain with a species of
awe, while the latter indulged in clumsy flirtations with the rustic
swains, who offered them delicate attentions in the shape of lozenges
and peanuts. The talk here among the elders was chiefly of the crops
and of cattle; while the youths and maidens speculated, giggling, upon
the prospects of a dancing-school for the winter.
The relatives of the performers were chiefly in the reserved seats, and
exhibited more or less nervousness according to their temperaments;
all alike, however, endeavoring the most preternatural semblance of
indifference.
"I have half regretted," Miss Tabitha Mullen remarked to Dr. Sanford,
next whom she chanced to be seated, "that I allowed Ease to take part
in this. It scarcely seems the thing with such a mixed audience. But
all her associates were concerned in it, and I did not wish to seem
over particular."
"You mustn't be too strict with Ease," Mrs. Sanford began to reply for
her husband, when the tinkling of a bell announced the rise of the
curtain, and she left her remark unfinished.
The young people of Montfield were accustomed at intervals to give
theatrical performances, finding this the easiest method of raising
funds for charitable purposes. They had accumulated quite a respectable
collection of scenery and stage-properties, all more or less primitive,
but answering sufficiently well for their purposes. "The Faithful
Jewess" required chiefly forest scenery; and of this they possessed
quite a variety, amateur talent being apt to run to the rustic drama.
The tragedy proceeded smoothly enough, the back-seats understanding
little of it, but liking it rather better on that account, besides
being amused by the costumes and the high-sounding blank verse. Mr.
Putnam was certainly not an accomplished actor; but of a part like that
of the patriarch he made as much as the character would admit. The
scenes between himself and Patty were really impressive, and won the
admiration even of Miss Mullen, who prided herself upon her taste, and
was nothing unless critical.
It is probable that both actors played the better for the presence of a
deep feeling towards each other. The lawyer was conscious of a thrill
whenever his hand touched hers; and, if Patience was less moved, it
was because she was more truly an actor, and more completely identified
with her part.
At the later rehearsals the young lady had ignored the presence of
any misunderstanding between herself and her lover, and had been
outwardly her usual self, bright and gay. She had avoided any approach
to sentiment, alike with Toxteth and with Putnam. She had given
herself up to the arrangements for the exhibition, attending to those
thousand details of which no one else ever thought. She enjoyed the
excitement, and that most seductive of all forms of flattery, the
self-consciousness of being a motive-power and a leader. She had put
aside every thing else to be thought of and met after this evening;
and the feverish excitement arising from this undercurrent of feeling
buoyed her up to-night.
Her dress, setting off her fine form to advantage, was in color and
arrangement admirably adapted to her beauty, and never had she looked
so superbly handsome. No wonder that to-night her lovers were more
deeply enamoured than ever.
Among her lovers, be it said here, was no longer to be numbered
Burleigh Blood. The transfer of his allegiance to Flossy Plant, which
Patty had first attempted in half-jest, had become deep earnest; and
the giant was the humble slave of the little lady he might almost have
balanced upon his extended palm.
"The Faithful Jewess," with its "ring-round-rosy" situations, its
harrowing dialogue, and long-winded soliloquies, at last reached
its tragic climax. The actors strung themselves before the curtain
in answer to the vigorous applause of hands horny with holding the
plough, and then retired to the dressing-rooms to prepare for "The
Country Wooing." The Montfield orchestra, under the lead of old Gustave
Harlakenden, the German shoemaker, plunged precipitately into the mazes
of a wonderful _pot-pourri_ of popular melodies; while the audience
rustled and buzzed.
Tom Putnam, who was not in the cast for the second play, having resumed
his ordinary clothing, emerged from his dressing-room just as Miss
Sturtevant came from hers, costumed for "The Country Wooing."
"I must congratulate you," she said, "upon the decided hit you made in
'The Jewess.' You took the house by storm."
"Thank you," returned Tom. "You attribute to me the honor which was due
to the ladies in the piece."
"It is very modest of you to say so," Flora smiled; "but you undervalue
your own acting. I wonder if you will think me rude and presuming, if I
make a request."
"Ladies are supposed never to be either," he answered.
"How satirical! I am afraid to ask you. But I will. Will it be too much
to ask you to walk home with me to-night? I go to-morrow, and I want
you to take those books I borrowed. I should have returned them before."
"Certainly I will," replied he. "I did not know you went so soon."
"I waited for these theatricals," she said. "My half-sister is to be
married next week, and I ought to have gone before."
They had by this time reached the end of the stage, which served as a
sort of green-room. Here direst confusion reigned. Burleigh Blood had
made the dreadful announcement that the excitement had driven his part
entirely out of his mind.
A dozen voices proffered in consternation several dozen suggestions at
once.
"Never mind," Flossy said. "Make up something: nobody will know."
"But the cues?" exclaimed Miss Sturtevant in dismay.
"Oh, dear! I wish I were at home!" cried Dessie Farnum, almost in tears.
"I never could make up any thing," Burleigh said in despair. "I was a
fool to take the part anyway!"
"You'll have to trust to the prompter," Patty said. "There's no help
for it now. You are not in the first scene, and can look it over."
"Or hunt up your wits," added Emily Purdy.
"Are you ready?" Patty asked. "Ring up."
The bell sounded, bringing the orchestra to so sudden a stop, that
one out of sight might have supposed an immense extinguisher suddenly
clapped over it.
"Don't bother," Flossy said consolingly to Burleigh as he stood in the
wing, vainly endeavoring to follow the advice of Patty. "If you forget,
I'll prompt you. I know the whole of your part and mine too."
Had he known that few mortals were more liable to stage-fright than
Flossy herself, he might have been less comforted: as it was, he placed
implicit confidence in her ability, and this gave him sufficient
self-control to fix for a little his attention upon his book. The next
moment, in some way, without any exact knowledge of how he got there,
he found himself upon the stage, and the other players one by one going
away, and leaving him in the full gaze of that sea of faces. He longed
to catch them and hold them back, as each slipped into the friendly
obscurity of the wings; but he stood stiff and helpless alone upon the
stage with Flossy. The scene which ensued was as follows, the italics
indicating what was said in a tone inaudible to the audience.
FLOSSY (as Waitstill Eastman). "Won't you sit down, Jonathan? _You say
I don't mind if I do._"
BURLEIGH (as Jonathan Cowboy). "You say I--I don't mind if I do."
F. "Why don't you then? _I'm goin' to._"
B. "I'm goin' to."
F. "_Don't hold your arms so stiff!_ So is Christmas coming. You
needn't, though, if you don't want to. (Sits.) I mean to make myself
comfortable. _I was waiting for you to sit down._"
B. "_For me to sit down?_"
F. "_Say that!_"
B. "For me to sit down."
F. "_Sit down!_"
B. "Sit"--
F. "_Goodness! Don't say that!_ Your chair don't seem easy, somehow.
Maybe the floor ain't even over there. _I'll move it over there, then._"
B. "I'll move it, then."
F. "_Move nearer to me._ Don't come any nearer me!"
B. "_Which shall I do?_"
F. "_Move up!_ You'd better keep your distance! _Move up! Yes, miss._"
B. "Yes, miss."
F. "_Keep moving nearer._ Now get out, Jack Cowboy! _Now don't_"--
B. "_I know it._ Now don't be cross, Waitstill. It ain't often a feller
has a chance to come and see you."
And, having thus got fairly launched, Burleigh recalled his lines,
which he had faithfully committed, and went smoothly on to the end.
Flossy had occasionally to direct his actions, for he fixed his
attention so firmly upon the words, that his tendency was to repeat
them like a parrot; but between them they came through safe. And, as
Flossy had once jokingly predicted, her friend's awkwardness passed for
clever acting, so that his success was so great as to astonish every
one, particularly himself.