Humorous stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
felt so bad over giving up his plot and his people that any one ought
to have seen right there as he'd never be strong enough to stand all the
rest of what was surely coming. 'Liza Em'ly didn't tell me the whole of
the rest what come, but Mr. Kimball told me that what was one great
strain on Elijah, right through to the hour he begun to scream, was that
the leading lady fell in love with him and used to have him up at all
hours to fix up her part, and then kiss him. And Elijah didn't want to
fix up her part, and he hated to be kissed. But they told him the part
must be fixed up to suit her, and that the kisses didn't matter, because
they was only little things after all.
"He was wading along through the mire as best he could, when all of a
sudden it come out as she had one husband as she'd completely overlooked
and never divorced. He turned up most unexpectedly and come at Elijah
about the kisses. Then they told Elijah he couldn't do a better thing by
his play than to let the man shoot him two or three times in places as
would let him be carried pale and white to a box for the opening night;
and then, between the last two acts, marry the lady and let it be in all
the morning papers. You can maybe think, Mrs. Lathrop, how such a idea
would come to the man as is to be shot. But, oh, my, they didn't make
nothing of Elijah's feelings in the matter. Nothing a _tall_. They just
set right to work and called a meeting of the play manager and the stage
manager and the leading lady's manager and Elijah's manager, and the man
who really does the managing. They all got together, and they drew up a
diagram as to where Elijah was to be hit, and a contract for him and the
leading lady to sign as they wouldn't marry anybody else in the
meantime. And if it hadn't been for 'Liza Em'ly, the deal, as they
called it, would have gone straight through. For Elijah was so dead beat
by this time that about all he was fit for was to sit on a electric
battery with a ice bag on his head, and look up words in a stage
dictionary and then cross 'em out of his play."
"Oh, I--" cried Mrs. Lathrop.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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