A Pasteboard Crown: A Story of the New York StageMorris, Clara
General
A Pasteboard Crown: A Story of the New York Stage
Morris, Clara
Actresses -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Theater -- Fiction
Nor did he fail "to be agreeable" to humble people, for no one knew
better than he how swift were the ups and downs of his profession.
Therefore, he treated with friendly consideration the "nobody" who might
be a "somebody" the next time he saw him. Gravely respectful to the gray
old solid men of commerce, hail fellow with that body of men known as
"the boys," gambling just enough to keep in friendly touch with the big
guns of the business, and seemingly ready to give up his very soul to
the reporters, he was a matinée idol, a successful man, a general
favorite. And yet, after all, disappointed; so many brief, transient
loves had he known; so many charming hypocrites had made a farce of the
grand passion, depriving it of any touch of sanctity, that now an
apathetic weariness had come upon him, and yet that was not the worst.
No one could have forced the confession from him, but in his heart he
admitted his defeat. He had started out to win fame, but had attained
only notoriety; and though he sneered and said to himself: "Fame has
generally gone hungry, and I at least am well fed and have a nice little
story to read in my bank-book," he was, all the same, a disappointed
man.
As he turned to toss the paper wrapper and bits of ribbon from his
parcel into the waste-basket his eyes encountered a picture of himself
as the young Laertes. And he paused, looked at it frowningly, and
commented: "You poor young fool! What a burning mass of hope and
ambition you were! So honestly believing in acting as a veritable art,
and--and forgetting everything in the joy of it! Damned if you didn't!
But Lord! that was before you found your motto and began 'to be
agreeable' to the world! Couldn't serve two gods, could you, sonny?
Well, being agreeable has paid, in some ways. But I have put up with
your reproachful glances long enough. I think I'll take you down from
there and send you over to the Missus. You won't hurt her the way you do
me!" And, with a half-laughing, half-frowning face, he stepped on a low
couch, that he might reach and lift down the offending, boyish Laertes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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