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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"


The first play of his life, and how magnificent a play it was! It might
have been a rotten affair with endless conversations--luckily there were
no discussions at all. All the characters either loved or hated one
another too deeply to waste time in talk. They were Roundheads and
Cavaliers, and a splendid hero, who had once been a bad fellow, but was
now sorry, fought nine Roundheads at once, and was tortured "off" with
red lights and his lady waiting for results before a sympathetic
audience.
During the torture scene John's heart stopped entirely, his brow was
damp, his hand sought his mother's, found it, and held it very hard.
She, as she felt his hot fingers pressing against hers, began to see the
stage through a mist of tears. She had behaved very well during the past
weeks, but the soul that she adored was, to-morrow morning, to be hurled
out, wildly, helter-skelter, to receive such tarnishing as it might
please Fate to think good.
"I _can't_ let him go! I _can't_ let him go!"
The curtain came down.
John turned, his eyes wide, his cheeks pale with a pink spot on the
middle of each.


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