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Updated: September 15, 2025
In Salem he called upon a wealthy young lady by the name of Silsby, who had the eyes of a gazelle, but "when I mentioned subscription it seemed to fall on her ears, not as the cadence of the wood thrush, or of the mocking bird does on mine, but as a shower bath in cold January."
Gilfoyle had a touch of writer's cramp, and Kedzie had no desire to see the result of a conflict between two such victims of unpreparedness. She forgot both rivals in the excitement of a sudden incursion of Miss Silsby, who came crying: "Oh, girls, girls, what Do you sup-Pose has Happened? I have been en-Gaged to give my dances at Noxon's old Mrs. Noxon's, in Newport."
She packed her things and went to the train, lugging her own baggage. When she reached the station she was footsore, heartsore, soulsore. Her only comfort was that the Silsby dancers had been placed early enough on Mrs. Noxon's program for her to have failed in time to get home the same day. She hated Newport now. It had not been good to her. New York was home once more.
She wished she could kick herself in the back of the head to music the way the Silsby girls did. When she told this to Miss Silsby the next day Miss Silsby was politely indifferent. Kedzie added: "You know, I'm up on that classic stuff, too. Oh, yessum, Greek costumes are just everyday duds to me." "Indeed!" Miss Silsby exclaimed.
Kedzie showed her some trade photographs of herself as an Athenienne, and Miss Silsby pondered. Although her dances were supposed to purify and sweeten the soul, one of her darlings had so fiendish a temper that she had torn out several Psyche knots. She was the demurest of all in seeming when she danced, but she was uncontrollably jealous. Miss Silsby saw that Kedzie's pout had commercial value.
"Not recently," Kedzie mumbled, while her very legs blushed under their stockings, remembering how bare they had been in the old days when she was one of the Silsby slaves. All the other women simmered pleasantly in the uncomfortable situation till Mrs.
Seeing how her very shoulders winced at their exposure, one would not have believed that she was a graduate of the Silsby school of near to nature in next to nothing. She danced with an extra man, Mr. Clarence Yoder, a portly actor out of work. He was a costume-play gentleman, and Kedzie thought him something grand. He found her an entrancing armload.
They were sorry to see her go, now that she was going. And she was very sorry to go, now that she had to. If she had lingered awhile Miss Silsby would have found her there when she relented from sheer exhaustion of wrath, and would have restored her to favor. But Kedzie had stolen away in craven meekness. To reach the trade-entrance Kedzie had to skirt the accursed pool of her destruction.
Actors and actresses of note almost perished with wrath and humiliation at the indifference to their arts. Loud laughter from the back rows broke in at the wrong time, and appalling silences greeted the times to laugh. The fame, or notoriety, of the Silsby dancers attracted a part of the throng to the marble swimming-pool and the terraced fountain with its deluged statuary.
Kedzie quivered as if she had been lashed. She struck back with her best Nimrim repartee, "You're a nice one to call me a cow, you big, fat, old lummox!" Miss Silsby fairly mooed at this. "You you insolent little rat, you! You oh, you you! I'll never let you dance for me again never!" "I'd better resign, then, I suppose," said Kedzie. "Resign? How dare you resign! You're fired!
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