THE MASTERS OF THE SNARE
They stood upon the porch of the little cabin,
listening to the silence of the night.
“How far away it all seems!” she said—
“How many a dingle on the
loved hill-side
Hath since our day put by
The coronals of that forgotten time!”
“It makes one feel old,” he said—“like
the coming of the night!”
“The night!” she repeated, and went on—
“I
feel her finger light
Laid pausefully upon life’s
headlong train;—
The
foot less prompt to meet the morning dew,
The
heart less bounding at emotion new,
And hope once crush’d
less quick to spring again!"_
Section 1. Throughout this long winter of discontent
came to them one ray of hope from the outside world.
“The Genius” was given in the little town
in Germany, and Thyrsis’ correspondent sent the
twenty-five dollars, and wrote that it had made a great
impression, and that more performances were to be
expected. Then, after an interval, Thyrsis was
surprised to receive from his clipping-bureau some
items to the effect that his play was to be produced
in one of the leading theatres in Berlin. He
wrote to his correspondent for an explanation, and
learned to his dismay that his play had been “pirated”;
it was, of course, not copyright in Germany, and so
he had no redress, and must content himself with what
his friend referred to as “the renowns which
will be brought to you by these performances”.
The play came out, in the early spring, and apparently
made a considerable sensation. Thyrsis read long
reviews from the German papers, and there were accounts
of it in several American papers. So people began
to ask who this unknown poet might be. The publishers
of “The Hearer of Truth” were moved to
venture new advertisements of the book—whereby
they sold perhaps a hundred copies more; and Thyrsis
was moved to pay some badly—needed money
to have more copies of the play made, so that he might
try to interest some other manager. He carried
on a long correspondence with a newly-organized “stage
society”, which thought a great deal about trying
the play at a matinee, but did nothing.
Also, Thyrsis received a letter from one of the country’s
popular novelists, who had heard of the play abroad,
and asked to read it. When he had read it and
told what an interesting piece of work it was, Thyrsis
sat down and wrote the great man about his plight,
and asked for help; which led to correspondence, and
to the passing round of the manuscript among a group
of literary people. One of these was Haddon Channing,
the critic and essayist, who was interested enough
to write Thyrsis several long letters, and to read
the rest of his productions, and later on to call to
see him. Which, visit proved a curious experience
for the family.
