Eighteenth Evening"I looked down upon a great theatre," said the Moon. "The
house was crowded, for a new actor was to make his first appearance
that night. My rays glided over a little window in the wall, and I
saw a painted face with the forehead pressed against the panes. It
was the hero of the evening. The knighly beard curled crisply about
the chin; but there were tears in the man's eyes, for he had been
hissed off, and indeed with reason. The poor Incapable! But
Incapables cannot be admitted into the empire of Art. He had deep
feeling, and loved his art enthusiastically, but the art loved not
him. The prompter's bell sounded; 'the hero enters with a
determined air,' so ran the stage direction in his part, and he had
to appear before an audience who turned him into ridicule.
