I
do not mind that so much, but I have to play horse, and ride the
children around on my back, and then, to cap the climax, I have to
turn a somersault."
"Well?" asked the manager, as the actor paused.
"Well, I positively refuse to do that somersault! The idea of
me--Wellington Bunn--who has played in Shakespearean dramas,
groveling on the floor and turning somersaults! The somersaults
positively must be cut out."
"But they can't very well, Mr. Pertell!" broke in one of the other
actors in the same drama. "Because when Mr. Bunn goes over that way
he is supposed accidentally to upset the table, and the supper things
fly all over, and the children laugh and think it's a great joke. The
whole scene will be spoiled if Mr. Bunn doesn't turn his somersault."
"Then he'll turn it!" announced the manager, grimly.
"What! But I protest, sir! I protest!" cried the tragedian. "I will
not do it! The idea of me--Wellington Bunn----"
"Somersault--or look for another engagement," was the terse
rejoinder, and with a gesture of despair Mr. Bunn turned aside
murmuring;
"Oh, that I should come to this! Oh, the pity of it! The pity! I'll
never do it!"
But a little later, for the sake of his salary, he turned the
somersault.
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