"All were gathered together ready for their first entrance and dance, which followed a few moments after the scene already described. The tall girl had a queer look on her face as she stood in her place; her cue came, but she never moved.
"I heard the rushing footsteps of the stage-manager; 'That's you,' he shouted; 'Go on! Go on! Run! Run!' Run? She seemed to have grown fast to the floor....
"'Are you going on?' cried the frantic prompter.
"She dropped her arms limply at her sides and whispered; 'I—I—c-a-n't.'
"He turned, and as he ran his imploring eye over the line of faces, each girl shrank back from it. He reached me. I had no fear, and he saw it.
"'Can you go on there?' he cried. I nodded.
"'Then for God's sake go—go!'
"I gave a bound and a rush that carried me half across the stage before the manager caught me, and so, I made my first entrance on the stage, and danced and marched and sang with the rest, and all unconsciously took my first step on the path that I was to follow through shadow and through sunshine—to follow by steep and stony places, over threatening bogs, through green and pleasant meadows—to follow steadily and faithfully for many and many a year to come."
To the surprise of every one, when salary day came around the new ballet girl did not go to claim her week's pay. Even on the second she was the last one to appear at the box-office window. Mr. Ellsler himself was there, and he opened the door and asked her to come in. As she signed her name, she paused so noticeably that he laughed, and said, "Don't you know your own name?"
The fact was, on the first day of rehearsal, when the stage-manager had taken down all names, he called out to the latest comer, who was staring at the scenery and did not hear him: