The Automaton Ear, and Other SketchesMcLandburgh, Florence
Science
The Automaton Ear, and Other Sketches
McLandburgh, Florence
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
But, notwithstanding these peculiarities, there was something in his
bearing that gave Boydell the appearance of a finished gentleman, and
his fine address added to the impression he created of eminent
respectability. He accepted the position, and our business was speedily
accomplished. I requested him to call on the following day, when I would
be able to make the final arrangements for our departure, and he left
with a dignified bow.
Gathering together a company of actors and actresses from nowhere in
particular, and attempting to form them into something like an organized
troupe, is not by any means the most encouraging work with which one
might employ himself. Again and again my patience was exhausted, and
again and again I resolved to persevere. Several times we had almost
been ready for action, when somebody would “back out,” and throw us once
more into confusion. Now, however, I determined to surmount every
difficulty, no matter what, so that the next train might bear us _en
route_ for the West.
In the midst of the morning’s turmoil, Boydell made his appearance. I
informed him of our arrangements, inquired where he kept his baggage,
and told him I would send for it immediately.
“That will be unnecessary, as I have it with me. This, Sir, is my
baggage.”
While Boydell spoke, he put his hand back into his coat-tail pocket and
quietly drew out a scratch wig. I looked at his face to find something
which might belie the dignified voice, but there was not even the shadow
of a smile breaking up its gravity. His countenance was as composed when
he returned the wig to his pocket as though he had just shown to my
admiring gaze a complete wardrobe of great magnificence. Indeed, I was
so impressed by his aristocratic manner, that the ludicrous aspect of
the interview hardly presented itself to me until it was over.
But I had no time to be amused, and, with the annoying trials that would
turn up where I least expected them, no inclination. When I sent round
for the luggage I found that two of the boys had “shoved up their trunks
at their uncle’s,” and, as it was the last moment, I was compelled to
redeem them. Then I hired a carriage, and went to conduct the
_soubrette_, to the depot. When I arrived in front of the house,
_Madame_, _la mere_, came out and informed me that her daughter could
not go, would not go, unless I gave them fifteen dollars to get her
front teeth away from the dentist’s! What could we do without a
_soubrette_? With a groan I handed over the fifteen dollars.
Playing in the smaller towns along our route, we cleared our traveling
expenses, and got into pretty good working order.
When we arrived at St. Joseph we gathered up all our strength, and came
out in full glory as “The New York Star Company.” There we played for
three weeks to crowded audiences. On “salary days” the money was
forthcoming, a rare occurrence with strolling actors, and of course we
were all greatly delighted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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