Behold them! Gaze upon the character called Daniel Voorhees Pike! See
what long strides he takes, and with what pretty tiny feet! Observe the
manliness with which he thrusts his pink little hands deep in the
pockets of his--or somebody's--pantaloons!
Look at the Grand Duke Vasili of Russia, his sweet oval face and rosy
mouth partly obscured by mustache and goatee of a most strange
wooliness.
Observe the ineradicable daintiness of the Honorable Almeric St. Aubyn,
but more particularly attend to that villain of helpless loveliness, the
Earl of Hawcastle. The frightful life which, it is indicated, the Earl
has led, leaves no tell-tale marks upon his blooming countenance. His
only facial disfigurement consists in a mustache which, by reason of its
grand-ducal lanateness, seems to hint at a mysterious relationship
between the British and Russian noblemen.
Take note, moreover, of the outlines of the players. If ever earl was
belted it was this one. If ever duke in evening dress revealed
delectable convexities of figure, it was this duke. If ever worthy male
from Indiana spoke in a soprano voice and was lithe, alluring, and
recurvous, she was Daniel Voorhees Pike.
A young woman seated near us described to her escort the personal
characteristics of the various young ladies on the stage, and when we
heard her call one girl who played in a betrousered part, "a perfect
darling," we echoed inwardly the sentiment.
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