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About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 12, 1896)
THE COURIER. m P' m- .t' tc - A METEOR. The Triumph of a Debutante. Already the curtain had fallen upon the that act of the theatrical event of month, the Hrst night of a new play and the town debut of a young aspir ant for stellar honors, which might prove meteoric or of duration; it de pended upon herself. She had been the talk of newspapers and of people; pub lic curiosity was rife, owing to judicious advertising, rival cliques observed, and to sincerity of put pose and conten tious work in her art, her supporters asserted . This bandying back and forth of her name and yet no tarnishing hint ap proaching caught public attention; the position seemed anomalous, somewhat; it amused, and then interested, and all the world and its neighbors had Hocked to form its own opinion and pass judg ment of its own or rather to choose the one already made, which suited them the better. It requires mental exertion to have an original opinion; it is far easier to use that of some one else, and, characteristic phrasing, utter it as one's own; and human nature as a class dis likes mental effort; a few brains may do the thinking of the word. The play had begun charo ingly; it unrolled itself amid artistic settings that elicted admiration from connais seure, and clothed its naked plot in sparlthng, flowing epigram that de lighted the audience; it required intelli gence to catch always the double en tendre, aud there is pleasure in feeling oneself equal to demands. But until the debutante came on they were manifestly impatient, and when, at last, she entered, calling to some one back as she came, there was complete silence as they guaged her, walking down as unconsciously as though no eyes were watching her every motion, the dainty white gown simple as only a createur could accomplish, the ripp ling auburn hair caught in a loose knot in her neck, and a tiny fluffy dog held close to her breast; thus she stood, the one natural wholesome figure in the play. The house caught its breath a second and then burst into applause; physically, at least, they approved her. She spoke her lines with an ease and unconsciousness that made every wo man in the house feel it required only naturalness to be a good actress; the actress; the hard work that accomp lishes it was a matter unknown to them, but they applauded unstintingly where any chanc offered, and tho debutante appreciated their welcome, though in wardly her artistic sense was jarred when tho dialogue was stopped by the noise. But she was grateful to them, so grateful; their sympathy helped, but again she felt that annoyanco that she should allow herself to think of tho audience. She was a woman, after all, as well as an artist, and success meant so much. Tho play went on: epigrams tlew about her unheeded; many lost point by her presence; it refuted them, and the relish departed; then camo a sense of con straint, and gradually she was left alone with the hero. Him she amused; it was a phase of woman hitherto un known, this unsophisticated but intelli gent creature, who, to his experienced eye, pobsesscd possibilities yet unde veloped. His role was that of one who teaches well and thoroughly certain things, and then demonstrates them. Why not educate her? The curtain fell with enthusiastic dem.nstrations from the audience. In the closing 6cene the debutante had held an animated and witty dialogue with the hero, and given it as one who appreciated the points, which were as different in their originality and tlavor as the scent of musk and new-mown bay. It came, like the latter, with a touch of salt blowing over it from the ocean beyond; it was piquanto and clean. She was standing in tho middle of the company when the curtain was raised for tho encore, and tho applause grew louder; it was for her, principally; pub lic opinion had pronounced in her favor, and it was pleased to bo enthusiastic. Again she was called out; this time only the hero came with her, and as she stsod there bowing, Hushing with pic uro beneath the thin rouge, suddenly she held out both hands to the audience with a gesture that thanked and ap pealed to them at once, and at that moment the little white dog sho had first carried in escaped from some one back, and, running across tho stage, bounded about her barking squeakily, and as the curtain was falling again the people saw her pick up the little animal and hide her face in his shaggy coat. In tho foyer the critics were discuss ing her. She was un succes fou. There was a charm, a magnetism and an earn estness that won them. Crudities she had, but they were few and trivial, and would shortly disappear; awkwardness was a word unknown to her; the press would support "society." Back in her dressing room the debut ante was sitting with her head on her arms, on the low dressing table. The mirror reflected her figure, absolutely motionless, and the bare little room, which tho maid was putting to rights after changing the debutante's gown She waB clad now in a delicate blue, and the curves of her neck showed ex quisitely white and pure against it. Tho auburn hair had been done high on the small head, aud an endless bit of blue ribbon wound its way through the twists. The dog was curled, sleeping in her ap, and she was thinking thinking, ten minutes before she would go on, how deadly tired she was and there was a queer, fluttering pain about her heart; it vould not let her draw a long breath. Never mind, one made but one debut; how she had dreaded and longed for it; those few people in front held her future in their hands when 6ho faced thom tonight; now it was assured; no not assured, but chance was givou her to do something. She was not to bo condeiiced without a trial; that -vould have been woise than death; but she had deserved a hearing; how she had worked, and struggled, and gone wih out for three years to accomplish the result of tonight. The future would be the same hard work, ceaseless thought and practice. What had given her such a pain in her heart? She hud had it before, but never like this now. Prob ably it would Ftop presently. Dear little Kate! How the little sister's eyps would sparkle when the debutante told her of her success, tho little sister who was hopelessly ill and would bo always, for whom she lived and worked, and who was the only tie in her life; and Kate had been her inspiration and un swervingly believed in her abilities when she had thrown herself down upon tho bed in tho abandonment of despair. Dear little Kate, she would have what she wanted now, tho hard times were past, and the debutante need look no longer grudgingly at the dainties Kate liked and pass them by because their little all was hoarded and paid out that she might study. How selfish it bad made her feel when the money was used for her and Kate went without; the joy of repaying and making up would be the sweetest thiug'in the world. There was the orchestra playing; she could just hear it; nearly time to go on again. Why didn't that pain go away? In front of the curtain the teats were all filled again, the last man was in his place; no one wished to miss the debut ante's second entry. The stage was set for a ball and tho usual automatic figures walked to and fro in pointed and pointless conversa tion, and, standing in groups, endeav ored hopelessly to be those simplest of THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL Ilcte o Xow Zlrio of BI6YCLE CURLS A2vr SOME FIRST CLASS SWITCHIS At Half Price Hair Dressing, Shampoos, Manicuring and All Kinds of Massage a Specialty. 131 NO. 1311 IVIlli Three Opinions: "TLe CHICAGO RECORD is a model newspaper in every sense of the word, Harrisburg (Pa.) Call. "There is no paper published in America that so nearly approaches the true journal-, istic ideal as The CHICAGO RECORD. From t4Newspaperdom' (New York). " have come to the firm conclusion, after a long test and after a wide comparison with the journals of many cities and coun tries, that the CHICAGO RECORD comes as near being the ideal daily journal as we are for some time likely to find on these mortal shores. Prof. J. T. Hatfield in The Evanston (111.) Index. 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