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THE ANONYMOUS PLAY. The Episcopal church in S- — was racily in need of funds. Every:one felt that something must bo done to raise money. ! The roof leaked, the carpet was threadbare; and these were the : stoallest itëms. The minister's salary, for instance, was months behind. It was necessary; to make.au effort, and at once. This was the only point upon which the members of the congregation agreed. As to t he matter- of how, the difference was so great that it seemed as if discord would be the only result. Concerts, fairs, dona tion parties, tableaux, magic lanterns, all Wert; suggested and freely discussed. While ail this talking was going on, a Mr. Dwight, a young gentleman of lit erary taste, and a teacher- in Sunday school, had a plan revolving in his head; He was a modest, bashful man. preferring.' always to take a back seat in the world and let others come forward. As I have said ho was of a literary turn of mind, had written artcles for several papers, and felt some pride in the success jhis.pen. He asked for a private interview with l;is minister and disclosed liis plan. ", He had written a play, partly the work i'f hisewu brain, partly made up of suggestions gathered from different works, iib wish had been to ' produce a drama that was thoroughly wholesome in its tone, and to which no objections could bo made. He thought the great reason many disap proved of private theatricals, and es pecially for church entertainments, -.vas because no suitable plays could he found. It was this difficulty that first suggested the idea of his play. Tiio Räv. ' Mr. ' Morgan was much pleased with the idea, and said he was glad to find one of his congregation had taken so much pains for the benefit of the church. He would carefully read the play, which no doubt would meet with his approval; then call the .committee to gether and lay tho plan before them. Air. Dwight requested that no one should, know he was the author, preferring that* the play should remain' anonymous.' and adding also that he would like to perform one one of the'small parts himself. A few days after the amusement com mittee was requested to meet. Great was their astonishment to hear the Rev. Mr. Morgan announce that he had a play in his possession written expressly for the purpose of being able to produce a theatri cal entertainment that could in no way give offense to the most'' particular, and was suitable for ■■ a church performance. It met with his approval, as he thought it Would he a novelty, and give the young people a chance to assist. The author Wished to remain anonymous, but, he continued, with a smile, he thought to many present the writer was not un known. It remained for the committee to examine the play and give their decision, u favorable, it would be well to com mence the rehearsal as soon as possible. Great was the commotion when tho re sult of the meeting was made public. They all spoke as if with one voice: "Of coturse the dear man wrote it himself!" "what an advantage to have such a talented minister!" Those who might have raiseh objections to theatricals were now anxious to let their children take part. Many taxed the Rev. Mr. Morgan With the authorship. He only shook his head and said he was not at liberty to tell, Which was very wise, somebody remnrked, because there are always evil-minded peo ple who might object to a minister turn ing his talents to such a purpose. Still, it Was thoroughly understood who was the author, and, of course, the play must be accepted. Air. Dwight became very help ful. He seemed to have forgotten his Usual bashfulness, and was even brave enough to suggest having a professional to drill them. This seemed too extrava gant, but when they remembered that it was to perfect the acting of the play their beloved minister had written, cousent was given; and somehow Mr. Dwight showed so much kindly interest that he was given charge of finding a suitable person. The first rehearsal was called. The professional looked through the play, page after page. '.'Ladies and gentlemen," said lie, "this play is too long. Five acts is hal'd on professionals and for amateurs apt to be tiresome. 1 think it must be cut down to three." . "Not for the world!" cried a chorus of voices. "We will not have one word changed." "Dwight," he said, taking him aside. "You know these people better than 1 do. Tell them what 1 say. This play is liadly written and worse in its construction. From its looks I suppose it is written by by some one here, if it is to lie saved from total failure, I must be allowed to cut it." Mr. Dwight's face was the picture of dismay. "Perhaps a little cutting might help it," he admitted, "I might just mention it to them. You are sure," he asked hesitatingly, "that it would be an im provement.'' "Why, my dear sir! The whole thing is simply bosli! nothing but bosh! No professional would look at it!" "Oh," said Mr. Dwight, greatly flus tered, the blood rushing into his neck and face. "If you think it necessary, Rnd as you look at it from a professional view, why of course we are not quite up to that, you know, 1 suppose I had better speak to them." "Of course! make haste, for we lose time." Mr. Dwight rose with a very red face, and his soft voice showed signs of agita tion. "Er —ray friends— er my professional friend, thinks from a professional point of view that our play is perhaps just a little too long and dooking with a pro fessional eye) he thinks it might lie im proved by cutting in a few places." "Mr. Dwight," said the leading lady, stiffly, "you will be kind enough to tell your professional friend that we do not look at this play with a professional eye, but with a very friendly eye, as the work of our beloved minister. We will not allow one of bis words to be cut. To your professional friend 1 bave no doubt his lofty thoughts may seem prosy, but to his congregation, not only amusing, but improving." Mr. Dwight was so dumfonnded at bearing the whole credit of the writing of his play givbn to the minister, that lié rg-, | mained rpeechless. He had thought the j author would rçmain u mystery, that he would hear the flattering remarks and en- | joy them. Then, perhaps, when the : whole thing was over, possibly-—he was j not sure—lie would- come blushinglÿ for- j ward and acknowledge himself as the j modest author. , j ' *- Rut lib'w ft Seemed he was not the ; author. • ' - ; "Is this true nbr-ut- the parson writing the play:-" asked the professional. "1 had not heard," hesitated poor Mr. y Dwight. ■ •".Oh. come now. of ■ course you know. You .ought, .to have told me this before? f I'm in a regular fix." . ' p •I give you my word I never thought •he r.-i'ot'c ii." ' , ' •»uxi cat out of 1$. the.jbeqfMtäjr 1 can. Excuse my suggestion, ladies and gentle men, I was not. aware of the authbrsh'p of the play. I can easily .understand now.;, why you do not wish a (Hialige. 1 have lio doubt from' the : c.-irnCi-t desire ex- ; pressed to do justice to -tire-writer, and the : talent at- pur disposal, \ye /hail- achieve j access, tf you please \ve i will coni- ; mence. ' ' As is usual in-such cases, one or two; had some mat ural»tfiste among others that ! were perfect sticks. Air. Dwight was so j flustered that he could not remember the ! very lines lie had written. The play-was loijg and tedious, difficult to mnçmber. and tiresome to the listener. The last act closed with a reception in ; private drawing room. The professional ; sngge.'ied thdt it could be made very ef- j ctlvo with: elegant dressing, flowers, fur- j nit ivre and decorations. Ho trusted lliL. | last scene might- help to efface tho past j misery. ! The eventful night arrived. Many tick ets had been sold, an it had been well whispered about (in confidence) who was the author. Air. Dwight had worked flight and day,' and was in such *a fright ful state of nervousness, that ho felt like j giving it up altogether. Tho professional j teemed to think that there wan u long | task before him, and hud evidently forti- 1 tied himself to such an extent that lie ap peared somewhat confused; His first mistake was to ring up tho curtain with out warning, which gave a view of the figures flying in every direction. It was hastily dropped with a violent bang. The audience waited patiently for it to roll up again. A gentleman stepped out from the side, and Said he hoped the audi ence would have patience, as one of the company was late arriving. At, last the play began and proceeded in the usual manner of amateur theatricals, some parts good, others very bad. Ixmd prompting was heard from tlie sides throughout. Air. Dwight, who only had a very short sentence to deliver, in his anxiety made his entrance too soon, and, finding he was not wanted, looked about helplessly until loud voices called him to ome off. He attempted to return by the door through which he had entered, but struggled in vain to open It- on the side where the hinges were. Finding the door would not open, he slipped off at the side in such a state of fright, that when his time did come, he had to lie pushed on, and could only mumble something that no one heard. * The play dragged on. The audience was tired and bored, but too polite to leave. At a quarter to twelve the last act came, much to everyone's relief. The curtain rolled up, showing a beatifully set room, elegant furniture, and a profusion of flowers wherever there was a place for them. Tho dialogue was just begun, when to everyone's amazement an un expected figure was seen at the center door. The figure which attracted so much at tention was that of. a footman dressed in an elegant livery of crimson plush. Im mense calves to bis legs showed plainly they were not of natural growth. A white wig completed this costume. This was a character entirely new in the piny; on closer inspection this elegant person was found to be the professional himself, who evidently thought to give the room more elegance and an appearance of case by adopting this character. He carried a tray covered with glasses. As he crossed the room with a dignified but unsteady 3tep they jingled violently. As soon ns the actors could recover from their sur prise. they continued their parts, but were constantly annoyed by the offer of refreshments. As soon us he disappeared through one door lie appeared at another, knocking over flowers in his unsteady meandering». Finally, when the act ended at 12:80, he occupied the center of the stage, and bowed to the audience us gracefully as his shaky legs would allow. Financially the play was a success. In every other respect it was about us suc cessful a failure us ever was. One of the papers came out boldly and criticised the entertainment severely, say ing that the Rev. Mr. Alorgan might be able to write an excellent sermon, but not a play. Also they were much astonished that he should introduce the character of an intemperate waiter, for, though it might cause laughter from some people, it was a sight that all right-minded people would discourage. Tho Rev. Air. Morgan published a card expressing liis astonishment that the authorship of the play should be credited to him, and denying it emphatically. Mr. Dwight was so crashed at the re sult of his dramatic effort that he retired to his favorite back seat, where he still keeps very quiet, lie is not writing plays as busily as he was; and to this day liis single effort remains anonymous.—Olive Storm in Tid-Bits. Her Majesty anti the Newspapers. Queen Victoria lias always taken a «.yen interest in the newspaper descriptions oi ceremonies in wh.cu she figures. Tub womanly keen tics - has again shown (tar ing the recent visit n Liverpool. Her majesty had special orders given to all the daily newspapers to tarnish a supply oi copies for lier use at tue Xew.sham nous*. This older of the queen acted as a m: ulus to the reporter.-, who knew u were writing for the eyes of royatu London Letter. What Portugal's King Has Done. King Luis, of Portugal, has done some thing beside ruling a peaceful country. He 1ms mastered half a dozen languages and translated five of Shakespeare's plays Into Portuguese.—Inter-Ocean. LOTUS. I low the lotus blossom when ft wreathes Its painted petals in thy sweetheart's tresses. : And she, enchanted by its odor, breatbös • Soft words of love, aud soothes : with soft; ' "rttfesses. , . , . v . .1» '• I love the lotus blossom whon.it. liés . . j tkj the whiff- hoson.- of a sleeping woman, ! And fails nnd rises ns the dreamer sighs, ! For that love's sake she lias yet told to no; man. j I love the lota* blossom for it- grows | On a lone grave beside à silent river; There-my youth's mistress takes her last re . pose ; I loved, 1 hated, and I now forgive her. -Justin II. McCarthy, AI. P. ! CiNQUEVA LU, THE JUGGLER. tin Expert in sK-içht-of-Hwnil Describe* a IVw of Ills TiJcJa*. "Unless l ain developing a new trick 1 j seldom practice now. 1 am a juggler. 1 , invent jny own basilicas,. ,Jhat is one of j my difficulties. New tricks, are copied. ; When 1 find that I have an' imita tor 1 in- j veut something else. For instance, a ; thought came to me this morning, a trick ; with a cigar and a cigar-holder. I throw the cigar up arid catch it in every position i in the tube of tho holder. I shall practice j it a month, perhaps for an hour or t\to a I day. I never give a trick without being; so aura of it that I would bet a large sum j agaii it failure. Simple juggling, such as ; one does with balls, one could'do blind- : folded, so certain has the hand "be- j come The hand follows trie eye, but the j han. is the more important of the two..;. Suppose i have half a dozen knives in the j air, I propel one so as to give it n half turn, j another a turn, a third a turn and a liait, j a fourth two turns, calculating the revu- ; lutions of each one as it falls through the | air. Suppose one of them is falling hold- | zontally, instead of vertically, then one gets out of tiie way and lets it fall to, the ! ground. '■In teaching a beginner one sets him to ! work with one ball -and one hand— tn j left. It is like teaching a child to re«m j He begins with A 13 Co then forir .•» I word. So it is with the juggler's F-;y tivings. Tlie left hand must be as f ,..ic and as sure as the right. If you let your pupil begin with tho right hand it doubles tlie difficulty for tke left hand. I make it a rule always to use for my tricks the or dinary articles of everyday life. It is more interesting to the public than elaborate apparatus. They can go home and try it themselves. I take a candle and a candle tick, or two candles aud two candle sticks, or put an. umbrella and a stick through a number of aerial evolutions. I even use a washing-tub. It is often gallii>~ to the performer to know that the public do not understand the niceties and often the extreme difficulties of a trick. To gi ve them a lesson one sometimes purposely breaks down once or twice just at the critical moment. Then the third time the applause is tremendous. As a matter of fact, one is certain to slip now and then. It is a very different thing performing in a room by daylight and before the fiery glare of footlights. Perhaps my most difficult feat is the one I am doing every night just now with a knife and fork and raw potato. Sim plicity again, you see. With the knife I cut the potato in two after keeping it up for some time, then catch the two halves, one on the knife, the other on the fork. That, now, was suggested to me one night at a supper where 1 was a guest. 'Give us something,' the host said; 'you can juggle with anything.' A knife and fork were on my plate, and a cooked potato. I was suc cessful. It is the professional's most diffi cult task to And novelties. It is so with all of us in the show business. What is there left? I ask. Your insatiate public has had trained fleas and trained flies. There is nothing left. You ask me about training? Don't drink, and smoke as little as possible. It is difficult, but It is neces ïary. The eye and the hand are delicate ergaus."—Pall Alall Gazette Interview. How Hook ltevtews Are Written. It would lie hard to say how many con scienceless words are written about books svery year in tlie daily newspapers of the United States. Certainly more book-re views are written without conscience than without intelligence. If you have ever chanced to see a half-dozen out of the 200 or 300 "notices" which every book of im portance receives, have you not sometimes wondered (.if you have yourself read the book aud formed an opinion upon it) how any one exercising the responsible' func tion of critic could permit himself to write—as you lind three out of the six do —around, above and below a book, in every fashion save straightforwardly, as .1 lie had read it, and had some notions about it. 1 say that more reviews are written without conscience than without intelli gence; and if you will take pains to fol low a new book only a little way on its journey through tlie hands of the review s' you will agree with me. The hurried, driven, over-busy newspaper writer often does not read the books he writes about; and what he says regarding them when he comes to cook up the "notice,'' which is necessary to keep tho good-will of the pub lisher sending the book, is uot infre quently the result either of an impres sion caught from a hasty glance through the volume, from the opinion of a friend who has read it, or, least honest of all, from the criticism of some more faithful reviewer in another paper.—Tid-Bits. Tlie Cheerfulness of Crippled Men. "The cheerfulness of crippled men takes me off niy feet. The other night I at tended a little reception at which there were present a dozen or twenty old sol diers. .Some of them had wooden legs, others had crooked legs or maimed legs, and there was in fact scarcely a whole bodied man among them, and yet when the music took a martial turn all those old fellows iusisted on dancing. It was the most remarkable performance I have ever seeu, and for ten minutes a good many of us could not tell whether we were luugh ing or crying. But the boys seemed to enjoy It, and when their blood was up they were as reckless as a lot of romping lads and girls in attempting all the extraor dinary capers incidental to a frolicsome dance. '—Inter Ocean "Curbstone" Cray ons. * I Keeps constantly on hime. .......' '"'"—•'"J THU LARGEST AND BEST STOCK Op l.\ l-.U »BOUGHT to DII.TiOX-j CONSISTIN'*; op; Igr ' itiiiiä m "-ks.u- es<Taii ^ <:: -:n'tkrT.u, u> S T-W|,S, C,,A,RS ' Wo,! I-or\(,Es. Mattrksse,.^ I'n-i-ow, I'aui.or Si lls ALSO A FRESH AND COMPLETE -STOCK Op SELECT FAMILY GROCER!^ BBD BOOK SLICES. \V ai.xi't. Asm an'i Map: i I3i-:m-Komm Sitt Hr;- r u s. Di:i>,ski t DMMIHUA, Iîitk-tkads, Cm 1 : Spuin'*; 11 tens. Boot C \sl>. 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FIFTY HEAD Norman-Percheron Stallions, Grades from Imported Sires and good American Mares, rangh'k " a ^ -ÔJ.SO, 200 The stock can be seen at our ranch on Blacktail Deer L r *-' Postoffice address, DILLON, MONTANA. _ 0. 00' POINDEXTER * u