Judge — November 13, 1886 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PARTICULAR PAT. iook in her eyes, which were blue and honest. “0, sir!” she entreated, “Believe me, I um as pure as a lily "— “Langtry?” he asked eagerly. “No, sir! No, sir! My honor is inviolate "— “Cameron?” he cried - The little maiden burst into tears and the great man’s countenance fell as she brokenly but stoutly maintained her innocence. He wished |to help her, but he saw it would be of no use. ‘* My dear young lady,” | he said rather regretfully, ‘‘I am sorry to say you lack the first and | most important qualification necessary to popularity. ‘Times are not jas they used to be. Women do not become actresses and make reputa- |tions. They lose reputations and become actresses. | So she went away sadder and wiser. And she saw as she passed | homeward (it being late in theafternoon) hundreds of ladies and gentle- | men waiting at the door of an unopened theatre, that they might get tickets for the first appearance in America of an imported actress who > had been married four times without the sanction of the church or "state and divorced as often without appealing to the law. i ly tale is done; the moral to't, If any reader misses— There are no morals, I believe, To stories such as this is, MRS. GEORGE ARCHIBALD. HE OBEYED ORDERS. Johnson—"* I see you give a splendid notice of Miss Fatheringay’ Juliet this mornin, Now I should have thought she would have bored you to death. Dramatic critic--"* My dear fellow, you don’t suppose after hav- ing received my instructions to praise Miss Fatheringay that I risked putting myself in a bad humor by going to see heri ery—* And do you go up that ladder all day long?” half ov the toime Oi cum down.” UNWITTINGLY SEVERE, Miss Mason—*I heard you were so sick yesterday. I am surprised A THREE-BALL BALLAD. to see you around so quickly.” Miss Martin—* Oh, yes; I was very lucky. The doctor was out How dear to my heart is my jacket of sealskin, of town and I was fortunate enough to get over the attack before he ¥ summer long has been hidden from view. returned.” How often last sammer I've wanted to don it, THINGS HAVE CHANGED. When waves which were frigid compelled me to pout : Tho’ cold blew the breeze o'er my bonny straw bonnet, That jacket of sealskin I couldn't get out. That sweet sealskin jacket ! In camphor they pack it, That dear sealskin jacket th: up the spout.” KRYS. 0 Qt ALIFICATIO SHE HAD } There was once a man great in dramatic affairs to whom applied a little maiden who had ambi- | tious dreams about the stage. | “So you want to be an actress 7” queried the | great man, And the little maiden said she did. | The great man regarded her, She was young and pretty, which was an advantage; but she looked modest, which might be a drawback. 71 you done 2” asked he. thorough course in elocution. I ve played in amateur "-— T don’t mean that! “What have you done that will probably make you notorious? The road to stage distinction is already crowded unusual qu ations if one expects to r The little maiden seemed hardly tocomprehend — “Tam willing to very hard,” she said. ‘I know that one must toil long and patient- Yet the thought that I may some day be reckoned among the victorious *. “The Victorias! I know of but one. She made a hit wken she married Schelling and another when she left him, but I fear the pro- fession has lost her. You never eloped, did you?” “Oh, no, sir!” (vehemently. “Nor shot a married mat ** Mercy, no!” (with horror.) “Ever mixed up in any scandal” “Never! And the little maiden looked hurt and indignant. “Can't anything be brought up against your character in some] + Isn't it a trifle late in the season for tennis, Eugene?" 3 “That isn't a racquet, Clarence ; it’s a frying-pan, You know I'm The little maiden’s cheeks were very red and there was an outraged | married now.”