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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13277-0.txt b/13277-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66ec066 --- /dev/null +++ b/13277-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5079 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13277 *** + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris (1883)_] + + +_STAGE CONFIDENCES_ + +TALKS ABOUT PLAYERS AND PLAY ACTING + +BY + +CLARA MORRIS + + +AUTHOR OF + +"LIFE ON THE STAGE," +"THE PASTEBOARD CROWN," ETC. + + +_ILLUSTRATED_ + + +LONDON +CHARLES H. KELLY + +1902 + + + _To + + MARY ANDERSON + + "THE FAIR + THE CHASTE + THE UNEXPRESSIVE SHE"_ + + + + +_GREETING + + +To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their +confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition. + +Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage +over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can +answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred "tiffs" of angry +disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer +that turneth away the wrath of one. + +Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your +addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are +grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, +very foolish,--yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, +very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who +write to her,--no more can I, and that disturbs me, because I like +girls and I hate to disappoint them. + +But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my +friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of +warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my +assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to +laughter with the absurdities,--that are so funny in their telling, +though so painful in their happening. + +Clara Morris._ + + + + +_CONTENTS_ + + + CHAPTER + + I. A WORD OF WARNING + II. THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE + III. IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S + IV. "MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE + V. THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE + VI. "ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY + VII. A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG" + VIII. THE CAT IN "CAMILLE" + IX. "ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE + X. J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT + XI. STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON" + XII. THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN + XIII. THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE + XIV. THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS + XV. SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES + XVI. THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION + XVII. A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS + XVIII. A BELATED WEDDING + XIX. SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR + XX. FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE + XXI. STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR + XXII. POOR SEMANTHA + + + + +_ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + + CLARA MORRIS (1883) + CLARA MORRIS IN "L' ARTICLE 47" + CHARLES MATTHEWS + CLARA MORRIS IN "ALIXE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "MISS MULTON" + CLARA MORRIS AS "ODETTE" + MRS. GILBERT, AUGUSTIN DALY, JAMES LEWIS, AND LOUIS JAMES + JOHN E. OWENS + "LITTLE BREECHES" + CLARA MORRIS AS "JANE EYRE" + CLARA MORRIS IN "THE SPHINX" + CLARA MORRIS IN "EVADNE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "CAMILLE" + TOMMASO SALVINI + W.J. LE MOYNE + CLARA MORRIS BEFORE COMING TO DALY'S THEATRE IN 1870 + + + + +_CHAPTER I + +A WORD OF WARNING_ + + +Every actress of prominence receives letters from young girls and women +who wish to go on the stage, and I have my share. These letters are of +all kinds. Some are extravagant, some enthusiastic, some foolish, and a +few unutterably pathetic; but however their writers may differ +otherwise, there is one positive conviction they unconsciously share, +and there is one question they each and every one put to me: so it is +_that_ question that must be first answered, and that conviction that +must be shaken. + +The question is, "What chance has a girl in private life of getting on +the stage?" and to reply at once with brutal truthfulness and straight +to the point, I must say, "Almost none." + +But to answer her instant "Why?" I must first shake that positive +conviction each writer has, that she is the only one that burns with the +high ambition to be an actress, who hopes and fears, and secretly +studies Juliet. It would be difficult to convince her that her own +state, her own city, yes, her own block, could each produce a girl who +firmly believes that _her_ talent is equally great, and who has just the +same strength of hope for the future stage existence. + +Every city in the country is freely sprinkled with stage-loving, or, as +they are generally termed, "stage-struck" girls. It is more than +probable that at least a half-dozen girls in her own circle secretly +cherish a hope for a glorious career on the stage, while her bosom +friend most likely knows every line of _Pauline_ and has practised the +death scene of _Camille_ hundreds of times. Surely, then, the would-be +actresses can see that their own numbers constitute one of the greatest +obstacles in their path. + +But that is by no means all. Figures are always hard things to manage, +and there is another large body of them, between a girl and her chances, +in the number of trained actresses who are out of engagements. There is +probably no profession in the world so overcrowded as is the profession +of acting. "Why, then," the manager asks, "should I engage a girl who +does not even know how to walk across the stage, when there are so many +trained girls and women to choose from?" + +"But," says or thinks some girl who reads these words, "you were an +outsider, poor and without friends, yet you got your chance." + +Very true; I did. But conditions then were different. The stage did not +hold then the place in public estimation which it now does. Theatrical +people were little known and even less understood. Even the people who +did not think all actors drunkards and all actresses immoral, did think +they were a lot of flighty, silly buffoons, not to be taken seriously +for a moment. The profession, by reason of this feeling, was rather a +close corporation. The recruits were generally young relatives of the +older actors. There was plenty of room, and people began at the bottom +quite cheerfully and worked up. When a "ballet" was wanted, the manager +advertised for extra girls, and sometimes received as many as three +applicants in one day--when twenty were wanted. Such an advertisement +to-day would call out a veritable mob of eager girls and women. _There_ +was my chance. To-day I should have no chance at all. + +The theatrical ranks were already growing crowded when the "Schools of +Acting" were started, and after that--goodness gracious! actors and +actresses started up as suddenly and numerously as mushrooms in an old +pasture. And they, even _they_ stand in the way of the beginner. + +I know, then, of but three powers that can open the stage door to a girl +who comes straight from private life,--a fortune, great influence, or +superlative beauty. With a large amount of money a girl can +unquestionably tempt a manager whose business is not too good, to give +her an engagement. If influence is used, it must indeed be of a high +social order to be strong enough favourably to affect the box-office +receipts, and thus win an opening for the young débutante. As for +beauty, it must be something very remarkable that will on its strength +alone secure a girl an engagement. Mere prettiness will not do. Nearly +all American girls are pretty. It must be a radiant and compelling +beauty, and every one knows that there are not many such beauties, +stage-struck or otherwise. + +The next question is most often put by the parents or friends of the +would-be actress; and when with clasped hands and in-drawn breath they +ask about the temptations peculiar to the profession of acting, all my +share of the "old Adam" rises within me. For you see I honour the +profession in which I have served, girl and woman, so many years, and it +hurts me to have one imply that it is filled with strange and terrible +pitfalls for women. I have received the confidences of many +working-women,--some in professions, some in trades, and some in +service,--and on these confidences I have founded my belief that every +woman who works for her living must eat with her bread the bitter salt +of insult. Not even the plain girl escapes paying this penalty put upon +her unprotected state. + +Still, insult does not mean temptation, by any means. But careful +inquiry has shown me that temptation assails working-women in any walk +of life, and that the profession of acting has nothing weird or novel to +offer in the line of danger; to be quite frank, all the possibilities of +resisting or yielding lie with the young woman herself. What will tempt +one beyond her powers of resistance, will be no temptation at all to +another. + +However, parents wishing to frighten their daughters away from the stage +have naturally enough set up several great bugaboos collectively known +as "temptations"--individually known as the "manager," the "public," +etc. + +There seems to be a general belief that a manager is a sort of dramatic +"Moloch," upon whose altar is sacrificed all ambitious femininity. In +declaring that to be a mistaken idea, I do not for a moment imply that +managers are angels; for such a suggestion would beyond a doubt secure +me a quiet summer at some strictly private sanitarium; but I do mean to +say that, like the gentleman whom we all know by hearsay, but not by +sight, they are not so black as they are painted. + +Indeed, the manager is more often the pursued than the pursuer. Women +there are, attractive, well-looking, well-dressed, some of whom, alas! +in their determination to succeed, cast morality overboard, as an +aeronaut casts over ballast, that they may rise more quickly. Now while +these women bestow their adulation and delicate flattery upon the +manager, he is not likely to disturb the modest and retiring newcomer in +his company by unwelcome attentions. And should the young stranger prove +earnest and bright, she would be doubly safe; for then she would have +for the manager a commercial value, and he would be the last man to hurt +or anger her by a too warmly expressed admiration, and so drive her into +another theatre, taking all her possible future popularity and drawing +power with her. + +One other and better word I wish to add. If the unprotected young +beginner finds herself the victim of some odious creature's persistent +advances, letters, etc., let her not fret and weep and worry, but let +her go quietly to her manager and lay her trouble before him, and, my +word for it, he will find a way of freeing her from her tormentor. Yes, +the manager is, generally speaking, a kindly, cheery, sharp business +man, and no Moloch at all. + +As for the "public," no self-respecting girl need be in danger from the +"public." Admiring young rakes no longer have coaches waiting round the +corner, into which they thrust their favourite actress as she leaves the +theatre. If a man sends an actress extravagant letters or flowers, +anonymously, she can of course do nothing, but equally of course she +will not wear his flowers and so encourage him boldly to step up and +speak to her some day. If the gentleman sends her jewellery or valuable +gifts of any kind, rest assured his name will accompany the offering; +then the actress has but one thing to do, send the object back at once. +If the infatuated one is a gentleman and worthy of her notice, he will +surely find a perfectly correct and honourable way of making her +acquaintance, otherwise she is well rid of him. No, I see no danger +threatening a young actress from the "public." + +There is danger in drifting at any time, so it may be well to warn young +actresses against drifting into a too strong friendship. No matter how +handsome or clever a man may be, if he approaches a modest girl with +coarse familiarity, with brutalities on his lips, she is shocked, +repelled, certainly not tempted. But let us say that the young actress +feels rather strange and uncomfortable in her surroundings, that she is +only on a smiling "good morning and good evening" footing with the +company, and she has been promised a certain small part, and then at the +last moment the part is given to some one else. The disappointment is +cruel, and the suspicion that people are laughing in their sleeves over +the slight put upon her makes her feel sick and faint with shame, and +just then a friendly hand places a chair for her and a kind voice says: +"I'm awfully sorry you missed that chance, for I'm quite sure you would +do the part far and away better than that milliner's block will. But +don't distress yourself, your chance will come, and you will know how to +make the most of it--I am sure." + +And all the time the plain, perhaps the elderly man is speaking, he is +shielding her from the eyes of the other people, and from her very soul +she is grateful to him, and she holds up her head and smiles bravely. + +Not long after, perhaps, she does get a chance, and with joyous eyes she +watches for the coming of the man who comforted her, that she may tell +him of her good luck. And his pleasure is plain, and he assures her that +she will succeed. And he, an experienced actor, waits in the entrance to +see her play her small part, and shakes her hand and congratulates her +when she comes off, and even tells her what to do next time at such a +point, and her heart warms within her and is filled with gratitude for +this "sympathetic friend," who helps her and has faith in her future. +The poor child little dreams that temptation may be approaching her, +softly, quietly, in the guise of friendship. So, all unconsciously, she +grows to rely upon the advice of this quiet, unassuming man. She looks +for his praise, for his approval. By and by their companionship reaches +beyond the walls of the theatre. She respects him, admires, trusts him. +Trusts him--he may be worthy, he may not! But it would be well for the +young actresses to be on their guard against the "sympathetic friend." + +Since we are speaking about absolute beginners, perhaps a word of +warning may be given against _pretended_ critics. The young actress +trembles at the bare words "newspaper man." She ought to know that a +critic on a respectable paper holds a responsible position. When he +serves a prominent and a leading journal, he is frequently recognized as +an authority, and has a social as well as a professional position to +maintain. Further, the professional woman does not strongly attract the +critic personally. There is no glamour about stage people to him; but +should he desire to make an actress's acquaintance, he would do so in +the perfectly correct manner of a gentleman. But this is not known to +the young stranger within the theatrical gates, and through her +ignorance, which is far from bliss, she may be subjected to a +humiliating and even dangerous experience. I am myself one of several +women whom I know to have been victimized in early days. + +The beginner, then, fearing above all things the newspaper, receives one +evening a note common in appearance, coarse in expression, requesting +her acquaintance, and signed "James Flotsam," let us say. Of course she +pays no attention, and two nights later a card reaches her--a very +doubtful one at that--bearing the name "James Flotsam," and in the +corner, _Herald_. She may be about to refuse to see the person, but some +one will be sure to exclaim, "For mercy's sake! don't make an enemy on +the 'press.'" + +And trembling at the idea of being attacked or sneered at in print, +without one thought of asking what _Herald_ this unknown represents, +without remembering that Miller's Pond or Somebody-else's Corners may +have a _Herald_ she hastens to grant to this probably ignorant young +lout the unchaperoned interview she would instantly refuse to a +gentleman whose name was even well known to her; and trembling with fear +and hope she will listen to his boastings "of the awful roasting he gave +Billy This or Dick That," referring thus to the most prominent actors of +the day, or to his promises of puffs for herself "when old Brown or +Smith are out of the office" (the managing and the city editors both +being jealous of him, and blue pencilling him just for spite); and if +Mr. Flotsam does not, without leave, bring up and present his chum, Mr. +Jetsam, the young woman will be fortunate. + +A little quiet thought will convince her that an editor would not assign +such a person to report the burning of a barn or the interruption of a +dog fight, and with deep mortification she will discover her mistake. +The trick is as old as it is contemptible, and many a great paper has +had its name put to the dishonourable use of frightening a young actress +into an acquaintance with a self-styled critic. + +Does this seem a small matter to you? Then you are mistaken. There are +few things more serious for a young woman than an unworthy or +undesirable acquaintance. She will be judged, not by her many correct +friends, but by her one incorrect one. Again, feeling fear of his power +to work her injury, she ceases really to be a free agent, and Heaven +knows what unwise concessions she may be flurried into; and of all the +dangers visible or invisible in the path of a good girl, the most +terrible is "opportunity." If you wish to avoid danger, if you wish to +save yourself some face-reddening memory, give no one the "opportunity" +to abuse your confidence, to wound you by word or deed. Ought I to point +out one other unpleasant possibility? Temptation may approach the +somewhat advanced young actress through money and power in the guise of +the "patron of Art"--not a common form of temptation by any means. But +what _has_ been may be again, and it is none the easier to resist +because it is unusual. When a young girl, with hot impatience, feels she +is not advancing as rapidly as she should, the wealthy "patron of Art" +declares it is folly for her to plod along so slowly, that he will free +her from all trammels, he will provide play, wardrobe, company, and +show the world that she is already an artist. To her trembling objection +that she could only accept such tremendous aid from one of her own +family, he would crushingly reply that "Art" (with a very big A) should +rise above common conventionalities; that he does not think of _her_ +personally, but only the advance of professional "Art"; and if she must +have it so, why-er, she may pay him back in the immediate future, though +if she were the passionate lover of "Art" he had believed her to be, she +would accept the freedom he offered and waste no thought on "ways and +means" or "hows and whys." + +Ah, poor child, the freedom he offers would be a more cruel bondage than +slavery itself! The sensitive, proud girl would never place herself +under such heavy obligations to any one on earth. She would keep her +vanity in check, and patiently or impatiently hold on her way,--free, +independent,--owing her final success to her own honest work and God's +blessing. Every girl should learn these hard words by heart, _Rien ne se +donne, tout se paye ici-bas!_ "Everything is paid for in this world!" + +A number of young girls have asked me to give them some idea of the +duties of a beginner in the profession, or what claims the theatre makes +upon her time. Very well. We will first suppose you a young and +attractive girl. You have been carefully reared and have been protected +by all the conventionalities of refined social life. Now you enter the +theatrical profession, depending solely upon your salary for your +support, meaning to become a great actress and to keep a spotless +reputation, and you will find your work cut out for you. At the stage +door you will have to leave quite a parcel of conventional rules. In the +first place, you will have to go about _alone_ at night as well as by +day. Your salary won't pay for a maid or escort of any kind. That is +very dreadful at first, but in time you will learn to walk swiftly, +with stony face, unseeing eyes, and ears deaf to those hyenas of the +city streets, who make life a misery to the unprotected woman. The rules +of a theatre are many and very exacting, and you must scrupulously obey +them or you will surely be forfeited a stated sum of money. There is no +gallantry in the management of a company, and these forfeits are +genuine, be you man or woman. + +You have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness, here you will +learn that _punctuality_ is next to godliness. As you hope for fame here +and life hereafter, never be late to rehearsal. That is the theatrical +unpardonable sin! You will attend rehearsal at any hour of the day the +manager chooses to call you, but that is rarely, if ever, before 10 A.M. +Your legitimate means of attracting the attention of the management are +extreme punctuality and quick studying of your part. If you can come to +the second rehearsal perfect in your lines, you are bound to attract +attention. Your fellow-players will not love you for it, because they +will seem dull or lazy by comparison; but the stage manager will make a +note, and it may lead to better things. + +Your gowns at this stage of your existence may cause you great anguish +of mind--I do not refer to their cost, but to their selection. You will +not be allowed to say, "I will wear white or I will wear pink," because +the etiquette of the theatre gives the leading lady the first choice of +colours, and after her the lady next in importance, you wearing what is +left. + +In some New York theatres actresses have no word in the selection of +their gowns: they receive plates from the hand of the management, and +dress accordingly. This is enough to whiten the hair of a sensitive +woman, who feels dress should be a means of expression, an outward hint +of the character of the woman she is trying to present. + +Should you not be in a running play, you may be an understudy for one +or two of the ladies who are. You will study their parts, be rehearsed +in their "business," and will then hold yourself in readiness to take, +on an instant's notice, either of their places, in case of sickness, +accident, or ill news coming to either of them. If the parts are good +ones, you will be astonished at the perfect immunity of actresses from +all mishaps; but all the same you may never leave your house without +leaving word as to where you are going and how long you expect to stay. + +You may never go to another theatre without permission of your own +manager; indeed, she is a lucky "understudy" who does not have to report +at the theatre at 7 o'clock every night to see if she is needed. And it +sometimes happens that the only sickness the poor "understudy" knows of +during the whole run of the play is that sickness of deferred hope which +has come to her own heart. + +Not so very hard a day or night, so far as physical labour goes, is it? +But, oh! the sameness, the deadly monotony, of repeating the same words +to the same person at the same moment every night, sick or well, sad or +happy--the same, same words! + +A "one-play" company offers the worst possible chance to the beginner. +The more plays there are, the more you learn from observation, as well +as from personal effort, to make the parts you play seem as unlike one +another as possible. A day like this admits of no drives, no calls, no +"teas"; you see, then, a theatrical life is not one long picnic. + +If there is one among my readers to whom the dim and dingy half-light of +the theatre is dearer than the God-given radiance of the sunlight; if +the burnt-out air with its indescribable odour, seemingly composed of +several parts of cellar mould, a great many parts of dry rot or unsunned +dust, the whole veined through and through with small streaks of escaped +illuminating gas--if this heavy, lifeless air is more welcome to your +nostrils than could be the clover-sweetened breath of the greenest +pasture; if that great black gulf, yawning beyond the extinguished +footlights, makes your heart leap up at your throat; if without noting +the quality or length of your part the just plain, bald fact of "acting +something" thrills you with nameless joy; if the rattle-to-bang of the +ill-treated old overture dances through your blood, and the rolling up +of the curtain on the audience at night is to you as the magic +blossoming of a mighty flower--if these are the things that you feel, +your fate is sealed: Nature is imperious; and through brain, heart, and +nerve she cries to you, ACT, ACT, ACT! and act you must! Yes, I know +what I have said of the difficulties in your way, but I have faith to +believe that, if God has given you a peculiar talent, God will aid you +to find a way properly to exercise that talent. You may receive many +rebuffs, but you must keep on trying to get into a stock company if +possible, or, next best, to get an engagement with a star who produces +many plays. Take anything, no matter how small, to begin with. You will +learn how to walk, to stand still--a tremendous accomplishment. You will +get acquainted with your own hands, and cease to worry about them. + +You can train your brain by studying Shakespeare and the old comedies. +Study not merely the leading part, but all the female parts; it is not +only good training, but you never know when an opportunity may come to +you. The element of "chance" enters very largely into the theatrical +life. Above all, try to remember the lines of every female character in +the play you are acting in; it might mean a sudden rise in your position +if you could go on, at a moment's notice, and play the part of some one +suddenly taken ill. + +Then work, work, and above all observe. Never fail to watch the acting +of those about you. Get at the cause of the effects. Avoid the faults, +and profit by the good points of the actors before you, but never permit +yourself to imitate them. + +One suggestion I would make is to keep your eyes open for signs of +character in the real life about you. The most successful bit of +business I had in "Camille" I copied from a woman I saw in a Broadway +car. If a face impresses you, study it, try afterward to recall its +expression. Note how different people express their anger: some are +redly, noisily angry; some are white and cold in their rage. All these +things will make precious material for you to draw upon some day, when +you have a character to create; and you will not need to say, "Let me +see, Miss So-and-So would stand like this, and speak very fast, or very +slow," etc. + +You will do independent work, good work, and will never be quite +satisfied with it, but will eagerly try again, for great artists are so +constituted; and the hard life of disappointments, self-sacrifices, and +many partings, where strong, sweet friendships are formed only to be +broken by travelling orders, will all be forgotten when, the glamour of +the footlights upon you, saturated with light, thrilling to music, +intoxicated with applause, you find the audience is an instrument for +you to play upon at will. And such a moment of conscious, almost divine +power is the reward that comes to those who sacrifice many things that +they may act. + +So if you really are one of these, I can only say, "Act, act!" and +Heaven have you in its holy keeping. + +But, dear gifted woman, pause before you put your hand to the plough +that will turn your future into such strange furrows; remember, the life +of the theatre is a hard life, a homeless life; that it is a wandering +up and down the earth; a life filled full with partings, with sweet, +lost friendships; that its triumphs are brilliant but brief. If you do +truly love acting, simply and solely for the sake of acting, then all +will be well with you, and you will be content; but verily you will be a +marvel. + +For the poor girl or woman who, because she has to earn her own living, +longs to become an actress, my heart aches. + +You will say good-by to mother's petting; you will live in your trunk. +The time will come when that poor hotel trunk (so called to distinguish +it from the trunk that goes to the theatre, when you are travelling or +en route), with its dents and scars, will be the only friendly object to +greet you in your desolate boarding-house, with its one wizened, +unwilling gas-burner, and its outlook upon back yards and cats, or roofs +and sparrows, its sullen, hard-featured bed, its despairing carpet; for +you see, you will not have the money that might take you to the front of +the house and four burners. Rain or shine, you will have to make your +lonely, often frightened way to and from the theatre. At rehearsals you +will have to stand about, wearily waiting hours while others rehearse +over and over again their more important scenes; yet you may not leave +for a walk or a chat, for you do not know at what moment your scene may +be called. You will not be made much of. You will receive a "Good +morning" or "Good evening" from the company, probably nothing more. If +you are travelling, you will literally _live_ in your hat and cloak. You +will breakfast in them many and many a time, you will dine in them +regularly, that you may rise at once and go to the theatre or car. You +will see no one, go nowhere. + +If you are in earnest, you will simply endure the first year,--endure +and study,--and all for what? That, after dressing in the corner +farthest from the looking-glass, in a dismal room you would scarcely use +for your housemaid's brooms and dusters at home, you may stand for a few +moments in the background of some scene, and watch the leading lady +making the hit in the foreground. Will these few, well-dressed, +well-lighted, music-thrilled moments repay you for the loss of home +love, home comfort, home stardom? + +To that bright, energetic girl, just home from school, overeducated, +perhaps, with nothing to do, restless,--forgive me,--vain, who wants to +go upon the stage, let me say: "Pause a moment, my dear, in your +comfortable home, and think of the unemployed actresses who are +suffering from actual want. Is there one among you, who, if you had the +chance, would care to strike the bread from the hand of one of these? +Ask God that the scales of unconscious selfishness may fall from your +eyes. Look about you and see if there is not some duty, however small, +the more irksome the better, that you may take from your mother's daily +load, some service you can render for father, brother, sister, aunt; +some daily household task, so small you may feel contemptuous of it, +yet some one must do it, and it may be a special thorn in that some +one's side. So surely as you force yourself to do the small things +nearest your hand, so surely will you be called upon for greater +service." + +And oh! my dears, my dears, a loving mother's declaration, "I don't know +what I should do without my daughter," is sweeter and more precious than +the careless applause of strangers. Try, then, to be patient; find some +occupation, if it is nothing more than the weekly putting in order of +bureau drawers for some unusually careless member of the family; and, +having a good home, thank God and your parents, and stay in it. + +And now, having added the insult of preaching at you to the injury of +disappointing you, I suppose you will accuse me of rank hypocrisy; but +you will be wrong, because with outstretched hands I stand and proclaim +myself your well-wisher and your friend. + + + + +_CHAPTER II + +THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE_ + + +How often we hear people say, "Oh, that's only a play!" or "That could +only happen in a play!" and yet it's surprising how often actors receive +proof positive that their plays are reflecting happenings in real life. + +When Mr. Daly had "L'Article 47" on, at the 5th Avenue Theatre, for +instance, the key-note of the play was the insanity of the heroine. In +the second, most important act, before her madness had been openly +proclaimed, it had to be indicated simply by manner, tone, and gesture; +and the one action of drawing the knee up into her clasping arms, and +then swaying the body mechanically from side to side, while muttering +rapidly to herself, thrilled the audience with the conviction of her +affliction more subtly than words could have done. One night, when that +act was on, I had just begun to sway from side to side, when from the +auditorium there arose one long, _long_, agonizing wail, and that wail +was followed by the heavy falling of a woman's body from her chair into +the centre aisle. + +In an instant all was confusion, every one sprang to his feet; even the +musicians, who were playing some creepy, incidental music, as was the +fashion then, stopped and half rose from their places. It was a dreadful +moment! Somehow I kept a desperate hold upon my strained and startled +nerves and swayed on from side to side. Mr. Stoepel, the leader, glanced +at me. I caught his eye and said quick and low, "Play! play!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "L'Article 47"_] + +He understood; but instead of simply resuming where he had left off, +from force of habit he first gave the leader's usual three sharp taps +upon his music desk, and then--so queer a thing is an audience--those +people, brought to their feet in an agony of terror, of fire, panic, and +sudden death by a woman's cry, now at that familiar tap, tap, tap, broke +here and there into laughter. By sixes and sevens, then by tens and +twenties, they sheepishly seated themselves, only turning their heads +with pitying looks while the ushers removed the unconscious woman. + +When the act was over, Mr. Daly--a man of few words on such +occasions--held my hands hard for a moment, and said, "Good girl, good +girl!" and I, pleased, deprecatingly remarked, "It was the music, sir, +that quieted them," to which he made answer, "And it was you who ordered +the music!" + +Verily, no single word could be spoken on his stage without his +knowledge. Later that evening we learned that the lady who had cried out +had been brought to the theatre by friends who hoped to cheer her up +(Heaven save the mark!) and help her to forget her dreadful and recent +experience of placing her own mother in an insane asylum. Learned, too, +that her very first suspicion of that poor mother's condition had come +from finding her one morning sitting up in bed, her arms embracing her +knees, while she swayed from side to side unceasingly, muttering low and +fast all the time. + +Poor lady! no wonder her worn nerves gave way when all unexpectedly that +dread scene was reproduced before her, and worse still before the +staring public. + +Then Mr. Charles Matthews, the veteran English comedian, came over to +act at Mr. Daly's. His was a graceful, polished, volatile style of +acting, and he had a high opinion of his power as a maker of fun; so +that he was considerably annoyed one night when he discovered that one +of his auditors would not laugh. Laugh? would not even smile at his +efforts. + +Mr. Matthews, who was past seventy, was nervous, excitable,--and, well, +just a wee bit _cranky_; and when the play was about half over, he came +"off," angrily talking to himself, and ran against Mr. Lewis and me, as +we were just about "going on." Instantly he exclaimed, "Look here! look +here!" taking from his vest pocket a broad English gold piece and +holding it out on his hand, then added, "And look there! look there!" +pointing out a gentleman sitting in the opposite box. + +"Do you see that stupid dolt over there? Well, I've toiled over him till +I sweat like a harvest hand, and laugh--he won't; smile--he won't." + +I remarked musingly, "He looks like a graven image"; while Lewis +suggested cheerfully, "Perhaps he is one." + +"No, no!" groaned the unfortunate star, "I'm afraid not! I'm--I'm +almost certain I saw him move once. But look here now, you're a deucedly +funny pair; just turn yourselves loose in this scene. I'll protect you +from Daly,--do anything you like,--and the one who makes that wooden man +laugh, wins this gold piece." + +It was not the gold piece that tempted us to our fall, but the hope of +succeeding where the star had failed. I seized one moment in which to +notify old man Davidge of what was going on, as he had a prominent part +in the coming scene, and then we were on the stage. + +The play was "The Critic," the scene a burlesque rehearsal of an +old-time melodrama. Our opportunities were great, and Heaven knows we +missed none of them. New York audiences are quick, and in less than +three minutes they knew the actors had taken the bit between their teeth +and were off on a mad race of fun. Everything seemed to "go." We three +knew one another well. Each saw another's idea and caught it, with the +certainty of a boy catching a ball. The audience roared with laughter; +the carpenters and scene-shifters--against the rule of the +theatre--crowded into the entrances with answering laughter; but the man +in the box gave no sign. + +Worse and worse we went on. Mr. Daly, white with anger, came behind the +scene, gasping out, "Are they utterly mad?" to the little Frenchman whom +he had made prompter because he could not speak English well enough to +prompt us; who, frantically pulling his hair, cried, "Oui! oui! zey are +all mad--mad like ze dog in ze summer-time!" + +Mr. Daly stamped his feet and cleared his throat to attract our +attention; but, trusting to Mr. Matthews's protection, we grinned +cheerfully at him and continued on our downward path. At last we reached +the "climax," and suddenly I heard Mr. Matthews say, "She's got +him--look--I think she's won!" + +I could not help it--I turned my head to see if the "graven image" could +really laugh. Yes, he was moving! his face wore some faint expression; +but--but he was turning slowly to the laughing audience, and the +expression on his face was one of _wonder!_ + +Matthews groaned aloud, the curtain fell, and Daly was upon us. Matthews +said the cause of the whole business was that man in the box; while Mr. +Daly angrily declared, "The man in the box could have nothing to do with +the affair, since he was _deaf_ and _dumb_, and had been all his life." + +I remember sitting down very hard and very suddenly. I remember that +Davidge, who was an Englishman, "blasted" a good many things under his +breath; and then Mr. Matthews, exclaiming with wonder, told us he had +been playing for years in a farce where this very scene was enacted, the +whole play consisting in the actors' efforts to win the approbation of a +man who was a deaf mute. + +So once more a play was found to reflect a situation in real life. + +[Illustration: _Charles Matthews_] + + + + +_CHAPTER III + +IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S_ + + +"Divorce" had just settled down for its long run, when one evening I +received a letter whose weight and bulk made me wonder whether the +envelope contained a "last will and testament" or a "three-act play." On +opening it I found it perfectly correct in appearance, on excellent +paper, in the clearest handwriting, and using the most perfect +orthography and grammar: a gentleman had nevertheless gently, almost +tenderly, reproached me for using _the story of his life_ for the play. + +He said he knew Mr. Daly's name was on the bills as author; but as I +was an Ohio woman, he of course understood perfectly that I had +furnished Mr. D. with _his_ story for the play. He explained at great +length that he forgave me because I had not given Mr. Daly his real +name, and also remarked, in rather an aggrieved way, that _he_ had two +children and only one appeared in the play. He also seemed considerably +surprised that Mr. Harkins (who played my husband) did not wear a large +red beard, as every one, he said, knew _he_ had not shaved for years. + +My laughter made its way over the transom, and in a moment my neighbour +was at the dressing-room door, asking for something she did not need, +that she might find out the why and wherefore of the fun; and when the +red beard had started her off, another came for something she knew I +didn't own, and she too fell before the beard; while a third writhed +over the forgiveness extended to me, and exclaimed:-- + +"Oh, the well-educated idiot, isn't he delicious?" + +By and by the letter started to make a tour of the gentlemen's rooms, +and, unlike the rolling-stone that gathered no moss, it gathered +laughter as it moved. + +It was only Mr. Daly who astonished me by not laughing. He, instead, +seemed quite gratified that his play had so clearly reflected a real +life story. + +In the business world of New York there was known at that time a pair of +brothers; they were in dry-goods. The firm was new, and they were +naturally anxious to extend their trade. The buyer for a merchant in the +far Northwest had placed a small order with the brothers B., which had +proved so satisfactory that the merchant coming himself to New York the +next fall informed the brothers of his intention of dealing heavily with +them. Of course they were much pleased. They had received him warmly and +had offered him some hospitality, which latter he declined; but as it +was late in the day, and as he was an utter stranger to the city, he +asked if there was anything going on that would help pass an evening for +him; and the elder Mr. B. had instantly answered, Yes; that there was a +big success "on" at Daly's Theatre, right next door to the Fifth Avenue +Hotel, at which the stranger was stopping. And so with thanks and bows, +and a smiling promise to be at the store at ten o'clock the next +morning, ready for business, the brothers and the Western merchant +parted. + +I happened to be in the store next morning before ten, and the elder B., +who was one of my few acquaintances, was chatting to me of nothing in +particular, when I saw such an expression of surprise come into his +face, that I turned at once in the direction his glance had taken, and +saw a man plunging down the aisle toward us, like an ugly steer. He +looked a cross between a Sabbath-school superintendent and a cattle +dealer. He was six feet tall and very clumsy, and wore the black +broadcloth of the church and the cow-hide boots, big hat, and woollen +comforter of the cattle man; while his rage was so evident that even +organ-grinders and professional beggars fled from his presence. On he +came, stamping and shaking his head steerlike. One expected every moment +to hear him bellow. When he came up to Mr. B., it really did seem that +the man must fall in a fit. When he could speak, he burst into +vituperation and profanity. He d----d the city, its founders, and its +present occupants. He d----d Mr. B., his ancestors, his relatives near +and distant, by blood and by law; but he was exceptionally florid when +he came to tell Mr. B. how many kinds of a fool he was. + +When his breath was literally gone, my unfortunate friend, who had +alternately flushed and paled under the attack, said:-- + +"Mr. Dash, if you will be good enough to explain what this is all +about--" + +"Explain!" howled the enraged man, "explain! in the place where I come +from our jokes don't need to be explained. You ring-tail gibbering ape, +come out here on the sidewalk, and I'll explain!" + +Then he paused an instant, as a new thought came to him. + +"Oh, yes," he cried, "and if I take you out there, to lick some of the +_fun_ out of you, one of your constables will jump on to me! You're a +sweet, polite lot, to play jokes on strangers, and then hide behind your +constables!" + +Then his voice fell, his eyes narrowed, he looked an ugly customer as he +approached Mr. B., saying:-- + +"You thought it d----d funny to send me to that play last night, on +purpose to show me you knew I had just got a divorce from my wife! And +if I have divorced her, let me tell you she's a finer woman than you +ever knew in your whole fool life! It was d----d funny, wasn't it, to +send a lonely man--a stranger--into a playhouse to see his own misery +acted out before him! Well, in New York that may be fun, and call for +laughter, but at my home it would call for _bullets_--and get 'em too!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Alixe"._] + +And he turned and strode out. Mr. B. had failed to mention the name of +the play when he recommended it; and the Western man, whose skin seemed +as sensitive as it was thick, thought that he was being made fun of, +when the play of "Divorce" unfolded before him. + +When "Alixe" was produced, there was one feature of the play that +aroused great curiosity. Mr. Daly was called upon again and again to +decide wagers, and considerable money changed hands over the question, +before people could be convinced that it was I who was carried upon the +stage, and not a waxen image of me. + +Many people will remember that in that heart-rending play, Alixe, the +innocent victim of others' wrong-doing, is carried on dead,--drowned,--and +lies for the entire act in full view of the audience. Now that was the +only play I ever saw before playing in it; and in Paris the Alixe had +been so evidently alive that the play was quite ruined. + +When I had that difficult scene intrusted to me, I thought long and +hard, trying to find some way to conceal my breathing. I knew I could +"make-up" my face all right--but that evident breathing. I had always +noticed that the tighter a woman laced, the higher she breathed and the +greater was the movement of her chest and bust. That gave me a hint. I +took off my corset. Still when lying down there was movement that an +opera glass would betray. + +Then I tried a little trick. Alixe wore white of a soft crépy material. +I had duplicate dresses made, only one was very loose in the waist. Then +I had a great big circular cloak of the same white material, quite +unlined; and when I was made up for the death scene, with lilies and +grasses in hand and hair, I stood upon a chair and held a corner of the +great soft cloak against my breast, while my maid carefully wound the +rest of it loosely about my body, round and round, right down to my +ankles, and fastened it there; result: a long, white-robed figure, +without one trace of waist line or bust, and beneath ample room for +natural breathing, without even the tremor of a fold to betray it. + +At once the question rose, was it a wax figure or was it not? One +gentleman came to Mr. Daly and asked him for the artist's address, +saying the likeness to Miss Morris was so perfect it might be herself, +and he wanted to get a wax model of his wife. Nor would he be convinced +until Mr. Daly finally brought him back to the stage, and he saw me +unpin my close drapery, and trot off to my dressing-room. + +The play was a great success, and often the reading of the suicide's +letter was punctuated by actual sobs from the audience, instead of +those from the mother. Young club-men used to make a point of going to +the "Saturday Funeral," as they called the "Alixe" matinee. They would +gather afterward, opposite to the theatre, and make fun of the women's +faces as they came forth with tear-streaked cheeks, red noses, and +swollen eyes, and making frantic efforts to slip powder-puffs under +their veils and repair damages. If glances could have killed, there +would have been mourning in earnest in the houses of the club-men. + +One evening, as the audience was nearly out and the lights were being +extinguished in the auditorium, a young man came back and said to an +usher:-- + +"There is a gentleman up there in the balcony; you'd better see to him, +before the lights are all put out." + +"A gentleman? what's he doing there, at this time, I'd like to know?" +grumbled the usher as he climbed up the stairs. But next moment he was +calling for help, for there in a front seat, fallen forward, with his +head on the balcony rail, sat an old man whose silvery white hair +reflected the faint light that fell upon it. They carried him to the +office; and after stimulants had been administered he recovered and +apologized for the trouble he had caused. As he seemed weak and shaken, +Mr. Daly thought one of the young men ought to see him safely home, but +he said:-- + +"No, he was only in New York on business--he was at a hotel but a few +steps away, and--and--" he hesitated. "You are thinking I had no right +to go to a theatre alone," he added, "but I am not a sick +man--only--only to-night I received an awful shock." + +He paused. Mr. Daly noted the quiver of his firm old lips. He dismissed +the usher; then he turned courteously to the old gentleman and said:-- + +"As it was in my theatre you received that shock, will you explain it +to me?" + +And in a low voice the stranger told him that he had had a daughter, an +only child, a little blond, laughing thing, whom he worshipped. She was +a mere child when she fell in love. Her choice had not pleased him, and +looking upon the matter as a fancy merely, he had forbidden further +intercourse between the lovers. "And--and it was in the summer, +and--dear God, when that yellow-haired girl was carried dead upon the +stage to-night, even the grass clutched between her fingers, it was a +repetition of what occurred in my country home, sir, three years ago." + +Then Mr. Daly gave his arm to the old stranger, and in dead silence they +walked to the hotel and parted. + +Once more the play had reflected real life. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV + +"MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +Mr. Palmer had produced "Miss Multon" at the Union Square, and we were +fast settling down to our steady, regular gait, having got over the +false starts and breaks and nervous shyings of the opening performance, +when another missive of portentous bulk reached me. + +It was one of those letters in which you can find everything except an +end; and the writer was one of those men whose subjects, like an +unhealthy hair, always split at the end, making at least two subjects +out of one. + +For instance, he started to show me the resemblance between his life and +the story of the play; but when he came to mention his wife, the hair +split, and instead of continuing, he branched off, to tell me she was +the step-daughter of "So-and-so," that her own father, who was +"Somebody," had died of "something," and had been buried "somewhere"; +and then that hair split, and he proceeded to expatiate on the two +fathers' qualities, and state their different business occupations, +after which, out of breath, and far, far from the original subject, he +had to hark back two and a half pages and tackle his life again. + +Truth to tell, it was rather pathetic reading when he kept to the point, +for love for his wife cropped out plainly between the lines after years +of separation. Suddenly he began to adorn me with a variety of fine +qualities. He assured me that I had penetration, clear judgment, and a +sense of justice, as well as a warm heart. + +I was staggering under these piled-up traits, when he completely floored +me, so to speak, by asking me to take his case under consideration, +assuring me he would act upon my advice. If I thought he had been too +severe in his conduct toward his wife, to say so, and he would seek her +out, and humble himself before her, and ask her to return to him. + +He also asked me whether, as a woman, I thought she would be influenced +wholly by the welfare of her children, or whether she would be likely to +retain a trace of affection for himself. + +That letter was an outrage. The idea of appealing to me, who had not had +the experience of a single divorce to rely upon! Even my one husband was +so recent an acquisition as to be still considered a novelty. And yet I, +all unacquainted with divorce proceedings, legal separations, and +common law ceremonies, was called upon to make this strange man's +troubles my own, to sort out his domestic woes, and say:-- + +"This sin" is yours, but "that sin" is hers, and "those other sins" +belong wholly to the co-respondent. + +What a useful word that is! It has such a decent sound, almost +respectable. We are a refined people, even in our sins, and I know no +word in the English language we strive harder to avoid using in any of +its forms than that word of brutal vulgarity, but terrific +meaning--adultery. + +The adulterer may be in our midst, but we have refinement enough to +refer to him as the "So-and-So's" co-respondent. + +I was engaged in saying things more earnest and warm than correct and +polished--things I fear the writer of the letter could not have approved +of--when I was pulled up short by the opening words of another +paragraph, which said: "God! if women suffer in real life over the loss +of children, husband, and home, as you suffered before my very eyes last +night in the play; if my wife is tortured like that, it would have been +better for me to have passed out of life, and have left her in peace. +But I did not know that women suffered so. Help me, advise me." + +I could not ignore that last appeal. What my answer was you will not +care to know; but if it was brief, it was at least not flippant; and +before writing it, I, in my turn, appealed for help, only my appeal was +made upon my knees to the Great Authority. + + * * * * * + +On election nights it is customary for the manager to read or have read +to the audience the returns as fast as they come in from various points, +showing how the voting has gone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris and James Parselle in 3d Act of "Miss +Multon"_] + +An election was just over, when one evening a small incident occurred +during a performance of "Miss Multon" that we would gladly have +dispensed with. In the quarrel scene between the two women, the first +and supposedly dead wife, in her character of governess to her own +children, is goaded by the second wife into such a passion that she +finally throws off all concealment and declares her true character and +name. + +The scene was a strong one, and was always looked forward to eagerly by +the audience. + +On the evening I speak of the house was packed almost to suffocation. +The other characters in the play had withdrawn, and for the first time +the two women were alone together. Both keyed up almost to the breaking +point, we faced each other, and there was a dead, I might almost say a +_deadly_ pause before either spoke. + +It was very effective--that silence before the storm. People would lean +forward and fairly hold their breath, feeling there was a death struggle +coming. And just at that very moment of tensest feeling, as we two +women silently measured each other, a man's voice clearly and +exultantly declared:-- + +"Well, _now_, we'll get the returns read, I reckon." + +In one instant the whole house was in a roar of laughter. Under cover of +the noise I said to my companion, who was showing her annoyance, "Keep +still! keep still!" + +And as we stood there like statues, utterly ignoring the interruption, +there was a sudden outbreak of hissing, and the laughter stopped as +suddenly as it had burst out, and our scene went on, receiving even more +than its usual meed of applause. But when the curtain had fallen, I had +my own laugh; for _it was_ funny, very funny. + +In Boston there was an interruption of a different nature. It was at a +matinee performance. There were tear-wet faces everywhere you looked. +The last act was on. I was slipping to my knees in my vain entreaty to +be allowed to see my children as their mother, not merely as their +dying governess, when a tall, slim, black-robed woman rose up in the +parquet. She flung out her arms in a superb gesture, and in a voice of +piercing anguish cried:-- + +"For God's sake, let her have her children! I've lived through such +loss, but she can't; it will kill her!" + +Tears sprang to the eyes of every one on the stage, and there was a +perceptible halt in the movement of the play. And when, at the death +scene, a lady was carried out in a faint, we were none of us surprised +to hear it was _she_ who had so far forgotten where she was as to make +that passionate plea for a woman whose suffering was probably but a +faint reflection of her own. + + + + +_CHAPTER V + +THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +One night at the Union Square Theatre, when the "New Magdalen" was +running, we became aware of the presence of a distinguished visitor--a +certain actress from abroad. + +As I looked at the beautiful woman, magnificently dressed and jewelled, +I found it simply impossible to believe the stories I had heard of her +frightful poverty, in the days of her lowly youth. + +Her manner was listless, her expression bored; even the conversation +which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while +her applause was so plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss +being a courtesy at all. + +When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful +five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister +is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear, +lest her _ennui_ should find some unpleasant outward expression. +However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could. + +As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my +lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was +almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her +face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn. + +I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:-- + +"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation." + +Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of her chair, and she lifted +herself upright. I went on:-- + +"I was alone--the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak +closely about her.) "The night was coming on--and--and--I +begged--_openly_--LOUDLY--as only a hungry child can beg." + +She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the +perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at +her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour. + +The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I +responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch +of roses. + +A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when +with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she +said:-- + +"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite +please me." + +"I do not understand," I answered. + +She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a +sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it +amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own +childhood." + +At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't--please don't--" + +I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she +understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look +shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly +toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the +opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was the play reflecting +real life. + +But surely I have given instances enough in illustration of my original +claim that the most dramatic scenes in plays are generally the mere +reflections of happenings in real life; while the recognition of such +scenes often causes a serious interruption to the play, though goodness +knows there are plenty of interruptions from other causes. + +One that comes often to my mind occurred at Daly's. He once tried to +keep the theatre open in the summer-time--that was a failure. Two or +three plays were tried, then he abandoned the scheme. But while "No +Name" was on, Mr. Parks was cast for a part he was utterly unsuited for. +He stamped and stammered out his indignation and objection, but he was +not listened to, so on he went. + +During the play he was found seated at a table; and he not answering a +question put to him, his housekeeper knelt at his side, lifted his hand, +and let it fall, heavily, then in awed tones exclaimed, "He is dead!" + +Now there is no use denying that, clever actor as he was, he was very, +_very_ bad in that part; and on the third night, when the housekeeper +let his hand fall and said, "He is dead!" in clear and hearty response +from the gallery came the surprising words, "Thank God!" + +The laughter that followed was not only long-continued, but it broke +out again and again. As one young woman earnestly remarked next day: +"You see he so perfectly expressed all our feelings. We were all as +thankful as the man in the gallery, but we didn't like to say so." + +Parks, however, was equal to the occasion. He gravely suggested that Mr. +Daly would do well to engage that chap, as he was the only person who +had made a hit in the play. + +Parks was, by the way, very droll in his remarks about theatrical +matters. One day Mr. Daly concluded he would "cut" one of the acts we +were rehearsing, and it happened that Parks's part, which was already +short, suffered severely. He, of course, said nothing, but a little +later he introduced a bit of business which was very funny, but really +did not suit the scene. Mr. Daly noticed it, and promptly cut that out +too. Then was Parks wroth indeed. + +After rehearsal, he and Mr. Lewis were walking silently homeward, when +they came upon an Italian street musician. The man ground at his movable +piano, the wife held the tambourine, while his leggy little daughter +danced with surprising grace on the stone walk. As she trotted about +gathering her harvest of pennies, Parks put his hand on her shoulder and +said solemnly:-- + +"You ought to be devilish glad you're not in Daly's company; he'd cut +that dance out if you were." + +One evening in New Orleans, when we were playing "Camille," a coloured +girl, who had served me as dressing-maid, came to see me, and I gave her +a "pass," that she might see from the "front" the play she had so often +dressed me for. She went to the gallery and found herself next to a +young black man, who had brought his sweetheart to see her first play. + +The girl was greatly impressed and easily moved, and at the fourth act, +when Armand hurled the money at me, striking me in the face, she turned +to her young man, saying savagely, "You, Dave, you got ter lay for dat +white man ter night, an' lick der life outen him." + +Next moment I had fallen at Armand's feet. The curtain was down and the +girl was excitedly declaring, I was dead! while Dave assured her over +and over again, "No, honey, she carn't be dead yit, 'cause, don' yer +see, der's anudder act, an' she just nacherly's got ter be in it." + +When, however, the last act was on, it was Dave himself who did the +business. The pathetic death scene was almost over, when applause broke +from the upper part of the house. Instantly a mighty and unmistakable +negro voice, said: "Hush--hush! She's climin' der golden stair dis time, +shure--keep still!" + +My devoted "Nannine" leaned over me to hide my laughing face from the +audience, who quickly recovered from the interruption, while for once +Camille, the heart-broken, died with a laugh in her throat. + +In the same city I had, one matinee, to come down three steps on to the +stage. I was quite gorgeous in one of my best gowns; for one likes to +dress for Southern girls, they are so candidly pleased with your pretty +things. My skirt caught on a nail at the very top step, so that when I +reached the stage my train was stretched out full length, and in the +effort a scene-hand made to free it, it turned over, so that the +rose-pink lining could be plainly seen, when an awed voice exclaimed, +"For de Lor's sake, dat woman's silk lin'd clear frou!" and the +performance began in a gale of laughter. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI + +"ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY_ + + +An odd and somewhat touching little incident occurred one evening when +we were in the far Northwest. There was a blizzard on just then, and the +cold was something terrible. I had a severe attack of throat trouble, +and my doctor had been with me most of the day. His little boy, hearing +him speak of me, was seized with a desire to go to the theatre, and +coaxed so well that his father promised to take him. + +The play was "Odette." The doctor and his pretty little son sat in the +end seats of the parquet circle, close to the stage and almost facing +the whole house. The little fellow watched his first play closely. As +the comedy bit went on, he smiled up at his father, saying audibly, "I +like her--don't you, papa?" + +Papa silenced him, while a few people who had overheard smiled over the +child's unconsciousness of observers. But when I had changed my dress +and crept into the darkened room in a _robe de chambre_; when the +husband had discovered my wrong-doing and was driving me out of his +house, a child's cry of protest came from the audience. At the same +moment, the husband raised his hand to strike. I repelled him with a +gesture and went staggering off the stage; while that indignant little +voice cried, "Papa! papa! can't you have that man arrested?" and the +curtain fell. + +One of the actors ran to the peep-hole in the curtain, and saw the +doctor leading out the little man, who was then crying bitterly, the +audience smiling and applauding him, one might say affectionately. + +A bit later the doctor came to my dressing-room to apologize and to tell +me the rest of it. When the curtain had fallen, the child had begged: +"Take me out--take me out!" and the doctor, thinking he might be ill, +rose and led him out. No sooner had they reached the door, however, than +he pulled his hand away, crying: "Quick, papa! quick! you go round the +block that way, and I'll run round this way, and we'll be sure to find +that poor lady that's out in the cold--just in her nighty!" + +In vain he tried to explain, the child only grew more wildly excited; +and finally the doctor promised, if the child would come home at once, +only two blocks away, he would return and look for the lady--in the +nighty. And he had taken the little fellow home and had seen him fling +himself into his mother's arms, and with tears and sobs tell her of the +"poor lady whose husband had driven her right out into the blizzard, +don't you think, mamma, and only her nighty on; and, mamma, she hadn't +done one single bad thing--not one!" + +Poor, warm-hearted, innocent little man; he was assured later on that +the lady had been found and taken to a hotel; and I hope his next play +was better suited to his tender years. + +In Philadelphia we had a very ludicrous interruption during the last act +of "Man and Wife." The play was as popular as the Wilkie Collins' story +from which it had been taken, and therefore the house was crowded. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Odette"_] + +I was lying on the bed in the darkened room, in that profound and +swift-coming sleep known, alas! only to the stage hero or heroine. The +paper on the wall began to move noiselessly aside, and in the opening +thus disclosed at the head of the bed, lamp-illumined, appeared the +murderous faces of Delamain and Hesther Detheridge. As the latter +raised the wet, suffocating napkin that was to be placed over my face, a +short, fat man in the balcony started to his feet, and broke the creepy +silence with the shout:-- + +"Mein Gott in Himmel! vill dey murder her alreaty?" + +Some one tried to pull him down into his seat, but he struck the hand +away, crying loudly, "Stob it! stob it, I say!" And while the people +rocked back and forth with laughter, an usher led the excited German +out, declaring all the way that "A blay vas a blay, but somedings might +be dangerous even in a blay! unt dat ting vat he saw should be stobbed +alreaty!" Meantime I had quite a little rest on my bed before quiet +could be restored and the play proceed. + +I have often wondered if any audience in the world can be as quick to +see a point as is the New York audience. During my first season in this +city there was a play on at Mr. Daly's that I was not in, but I was +looking on at it. + +In one scene there stood a handsome bronze bust on a tall pedestal. From +a careless glance I took it to be an Ariadne. At the changing of the +scene the pedestal received a blow that toppled it over, and the +beautiful "bronze" bust broke into a hundred pieces of white plaster. + +The laughter that followed was simply caused by the discovery of a stage +trick. The next character coming upon the stage was played by Miss +Newton, in private life known as Mrs. Charles Backus, wife of the then +famous minstrel. No sooner did she appear upon the stage, not even +speaking one line, than the laugh broke forth again, swelled, and grew, +until the entire audience joined in one great roar. I expected to see +the lady embarrassed, distressed; but not she! After her first startled +glance at the house, she looked at the pedestal, and then she, too, +laughed, when the audience gave a hearty round of applause, which she +acknowledged. + +A scene-hand, noticing my amazed face, said, "You don't see it, do you?" + +"No," I answered. + +"Well," said he, "did you know who that bust was?" + +"Yes," I replied, "I think it was Ariadne." + +"Oh, no!" he said, "it was a bust of Bacchus; then, when Mrs. Backus +appeared--" + +"Oh!" I interrupted. "They all said to themselves: 'Poor Backus is +broken all up! Backus has busted!'" + +And that was why they laughed; and she saw it and laughed with them, and +they saw _that_ and applauded her. Well, that's a quick-witted +audience--an opinion I still retain. + +People are fond of saying, "A woman can't keep a secret." Well, perhaps +she doesn't keep her secrets forever; but here's how two women kept a +secret for a good many years, and betrayed it through a scene in a +play. + +Mr. Daly's treasurer had given tickets to some friends for a performance +of "Divorce." They were ladies--mother and daughter. At first greatly +pleased, the elder lady soon began to grow nervous, then tearful as the +play went on; and her daughter, watching her closely, was about to +propose their retirement, when the mother, with clasped hands and +tear-blurred eyes, seeing the stealing of my little son by the order of +his father, thrilled the audience and terrified her daughter by flinging +up her arms and crying wildly: "Don't do it! for God's sake, don't do +it! You don't know what agony it means!" and fell fainting against the +frightened girl beside her. + +Great confusion followed; the ushers, assisted by those seated near, +removed the unconscious woman to Mr. Daly's private office; but so +greatly had her words affected the people, that when the men on the +stage escaped through the window with the child in their arms, the +curtain fell to a volley of hisses. + +In the office, as smelling salts, water, and fresh air were brought into +requisition, in answer to a question of Mr. Daly's, the treasurer was +saying, "She is Mrs. W----, a widow," when a faint voice interrupted, +"No--no; I'm no widow!" + +The treasurer smiled pityingly, and continued, "I have known her +intimately for twelve years, sir; she is the widow of--" + +"No--no!" came the now sobbing voice. "No--no! Oh, Daisy, dear, tell +him! tell him!" + +And the young girl, very white, and trembling visibly, said: "I hope you +will forgive us, Mr. W----, but from causeless jealousy my father +deserted mother, and--and he stole my little brother, mamma's only son! +We have never heard of either of them since. Widowhood seemed a sort of +protection to poor mamma, and she has hidden behind its veil for +sixteen years. She meant no harm. She would have told you before--" + +She turned crimson and stopped, but that burning blush told its story +plainly; and Mr. Daly busied himself over the pouring of a glass of wine +for the robbed mother, while the treasurer in low tones assured Daisy +there was nothing to forgive, and gratefully accepted the permission +granted him to see the poor things safely home. + +Sixteen years' silence is not so bad for a sex who can't keep a secret! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII + +A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"_ + + +It was before I came to New York that I one night saw a really fine +performance almost ruined by a single interruption. It was a domestic +tragedy of English rural life, and one act began with a tableau copied +exactly from a popular painting called "Waiting for the Verdict," which +was also the title of the play. + +The scene gave an exterior view of the building within which the husband +and father was being tried for his life on a charge of murder. The +trembling old grandsire leaned heavily on his staff; the devoted wife +sat wearily by the closed iron gate, with a babe on her breast, tired +but vigilant; a faithful dog stretched himself at her feet, while his +shaggy shoulders pillowed the head of the sleeping child, who was the +accused man's darling. + +The curtain rose on this picture, which was always heartily greeted, and +often, so well it told its pathetic story, a second and a third round of +applause greeted it before the dialogue began. The manager's little +daughter, who did the sleeping child, contracted a cold and was advised +not to venture out of the house for a fortnight, so a substitute had to +be found, and a fine lot of trouble the stage-manager had. He declared +half the children of Columbus had been through his sieve; and there was +the trouble--they all went through, there was no one left to act as +substitute. But at last he found two promising little girls, sisters +they were, and very poor; but the mother vowed her children must be in +bed at nine, theatre or no theatre; yes, she would like to have the +money, but she'd do without it rather than have a child out of bed at +all hours. At first she held out for nine o'clock, but at last yielded +the additional half-hour; and to the great disappointment of the younger +child, the elder one was accepted, for the odd reason that she looked so +much younger than her sister. + +The company had come from Cleveland, and there were the usual slight +delays attendant on a first night; but the house was "good"; the star +(Mr. Buchanan) was making a fine impression, and the play was evidently +a "go." The big picture was looked forward to eagerly, and when it was +arranged, we had to admit that the pale, pinched little face of the +strange child was more effective as it rested on the dog's shoulder than +had been the plump, smiling face of the manager's little one. The +curtain went up, the applause followed; those behind the scenes crowded +to the "wings" to look on; no one noted that the hands of the clock +stood at 9.40; no one heard through the second burst of applause the +slam of the stage door behind the very, very small person who entered, +and silently peering this way and that, found her stern, avenging way to +the stage, and that too-favoured sister basking in the sunlight of +public approval. + +The grandsire had just lifted his head and was about to deliver his +beautiful speech of trust and hope, when he was stricken helpless by the +entrance upon the stage of a boldly advancing small person of most +amazing appearance. Her thin little legs emerged from the shortest of +skirts, while her small body was well pinned up in a great blanket +shawl, the point of which trailed fully a quarter of a yard on the floor +behind her. She wore a woman's hood on her head, and from its cavernous +depth, where there gleamed a pale, malignant small face, a voice +issued--the far-reaching voice of a child--that triumphantly +commanded:-- + +"You, Mary Ann, yu're ter get up out of that an' com' home straight +away--an' yu're ter go ter bed, too,--mother says so!" and the small +Nemesis turned on her heel and trailed off the stage, followed by +laughter that seemed fairly to shake the building. Nor was that all. No +sooner had Mary Ann grasped the full meaning of this dread message than +she turned over on her face, and scrambling up by all fours, she eluded +the restraining hands of the actress-mother and made a hasty exit to +perfect shrieks of laughter and storms of applause; while the climax was +only reached when the dog, trained to lie still so long as the pressure +of the child's head was upon his shoulder, finding himself free, rose, +shook himself violently, and trotted off, waving his tail pleasantly as +he went. + +That finished it; the curtain had to fall, a short overture was played, +and the curtain rose again without the complete tableau, and the action +of the play was resumed; but several times the laughter was renewed. It +was only necessary for some person to titter over the ludicrous +recollection, and instantly the house was laughing with that person. The +next night the manager's child, swathed in flannel, with a mouth full of +cough-drops, held the well-trained dog in his place until the proper +moment for him to rise, and the play went on its way rejoicing. + +And just to show how long-lasting is the association of ideas, I will +state that years, many years afterward, I met a gentleman who had been +in the auditorium that night, and he told me he had never since seen a +blanket shawl, whether in store for sale or on some broad back, that he +had not instantly laughed outright, always seeing poor Mary Ann's +obedient exit after that vengeful small sister with her trailing shawl. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII + +THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"_ + + +It was in "Camille," one Friday night, in Baltimore, that for the only +time in my life I wished to wipe an animal out of existence. I love +four-footed creatures with extravagant devotion, not merely the finely +bred and beautiful ones, but the poor, the sick, the halt, the maimed, +the half-breeds or the no breeds at all; and almost all animals quickly +make friends with me, divining my love for them. But on this one +night--well! it was this way. In the last act, as Camille, I had +staggered from the window to the bureau and was nearing that dread +moment when in the looking-glass I was to see the reflection of my +wrecked and ruined self. The house was giving strained attention, +watching dim-eyed the piteous, weak movements of the dying woman; and +right there I heard that (----h!) quick indrawing of the breath startled +womanhood always indulges in before either a scream or a laugh. My heart +gave a plunge, and I thought: What is it? Oh, what is wrong? and I +glanced down at myself anxiously, for really I wore so very little in +that scene that if anything should slip off--gracious! I did not know +but what, in the interest of public propriety, the law might interfere. +But that one swift glance told me that the few garments I had assumed in +the dressing-room still faithfully clung to me. But alas! there was the +dreaded titter, and it was unmistakably growing. What was it about? They +could only laugh at me, for there was no one else on the stage. Was +there not, indeed! In an agony of humiliation I turned half about and +found myself facing an absolutely monstrous cat. Starlike he held the +very centre of the stage, his two great topaz eyes were fixed roundly +and unflinchingly upon my face. On his body and torn ears he carried the +marks of many battles. His brindled tail stood straightly and +aggressively in the air, and twitched with short, quick twitches, at its +very tip, truly as burly an old buccaneer as I ever saw. + +No wonder they giggled! But how to save the approaching death scene from +total ruin? All was done in a mere moment or two; but several plans were +made and rejected during these few moments. Naturally my first thought, +and the correct one, was to call back "Nannine," my faithful maid, and +tell her to remove the cat. But alas! my Nannine was an unusually +dull-witted girl, and she would never be able to do a thing she had not +rehearsed. My next impulse was to pick up the creature and carry it off +myself; but I was playing a dying girl, and the people had just seen me, +after only three steps, reel helplessly into a chair; and this cat might +easily weigh twelve pounds or more; and then at last my plan was formed. +I had been clinging all the time to the bureau for support, now I +slipped to my knees and with a prayer in my heart that this fierce old +Thomas might not decline my acquaintance, I held out my hand, and in a +faint voice, called "Puss--Puss--Puss! come here, Puss!" + +It was an awful moment: if he refused to come, if he turned tail and +ran, all was over; the audience would roar. + +"Puss--Puss!" I pleaded. Thomas looked hard at me, hesitated, stretched +out his neck, and working his whiskers nervously, sniffed at my hand. + +"Puss--Puss!" I gasped out once more, and lo! he gave a little "meow," +and walking over to me, arched his back amicably, and rubbed his dingy +old body against my knee. In a moment my arms were about him, my cheek +on his wicked old head, and the applause that broke forth from the +audience was as balm of Gilead to my distress and mortification. Then I +called for Nannine, and when she came on, I said to her, "Take him +downstairs, Nannine, he grows too heavy a pet for me these days," and +she lifted and carried Sir Thomas from the stage, and so I got out of +the scrape without sacrificing my character as a sick woman. + +My manager, Mr. John P. Smith, who was a wag, and who would willingly +give up his dinner, which he loved, for a joke, which he loved better, +was the next day questioned about this incident. One gentleman, a music +dealer, said to him: "Mr. Smith, I wish you to settle a question for me. +My wife and I are at variance. We saw 'Camille' last night, and my wife, +who has seen it several times in New York, insisted that that beautiful +little cat-scene belongs to the play and is always done; while I am +sure I never saw it before, and several of my customers agree with me, +one lady declaring it to have been an accident. Will you kindly set us +right?" + +"Certainly," heartily replied Mr. Smith; "your wife is quite right, the +cat scene is always done. It is a great favourite with Miss Morris, and +she hauls that cat all over the country with her, ugly as he is, just +because he's such a good actor." + + + + +_CHAPTER IX + +"ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE_ + + +During the run of "Alixe," at Daly's Theatre, I had suffered from a +sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs, and before I was well the +doctor was simply horrified to learn that Mr. Daly had commanded me to +play at the Saturday performance, saying that if the work made me worse, +the doctor would have all day Sunday to treat me in. He really seemed to +think that using a carriage did away with all possible danger in passing +from a warm room, through icy streets, to a draughty theatre. But +certain lesions that I carry about with me are proofs of his error. +However, I dared not risk losing my engagement, so I obeyed. My chest, +which had been blistered and poulticed during my illness, was +excruciatingly tender and very sensitive to cold; and the doctor, +desiring to heal, and at the same time to protect it from chill, to my +unspeakable mortification anointed me lavishly with goose grease and +swathed me in flannel and cotton wadding. + +That I had no shape left to me was bad enough; but to be a moving +abomination was worse, and of all vile, offensive, and vulgar odours +commend me to that of goose grease. With cheeks wet from tears of sheer +weakness, I reached the theatre resolved to keep as silent as the grave +on the subject of my flamboyant armour of grease and flannel. But the +first faint muttering of the coming storm reached me even in my +dressing-room, when the theatre maid (I had none of my own yet) entered, +and frowningly snapped out: "I'd like to know what's the matter with +this room? It never smelled like this before. Just as soon as you go +out, Miss Morris, I'll hunt it over and see what the trouble is." + +I had been pale, but at that speech one might have lighted matches at my +scarlet face. While in the entrance I had to be wrapped up in a great +big shawl, through which the odour could not quite penetrate, so no one +suspected me when making kindly inquiries about my health; but when it +was thrown off, and in my thin white gown I went on the stage--oh! + +In the charming little love scene, as Henri and I sat close, oh, very +close together, on the garden seat, and I had to look up at him with +wide-eyed admiration, I saw him turn his face aside, wrinkling up his +nose, and heard him whisper: "What an infernal smell! What is it?" + +I shook my head in seeming ignorance and wondered what was ahead--if +this was the beginning. It was a harrowing experience; by the time the +second act was on, the whole company was aroused. They were like an +angry swarm of bees. Miss Dietz kept her handkerchief openly to her +pretty nose; Miss Morant, in stately dudgeon, demanded that Mr. Daly +should be sent for, that he might learn the condition of his theatre, +and the dangers his people were subjected to in breathing such poisoned +air; while right in the very middle of our best scene, Mr. Louis James, +the incorrigible, stopped to whisper, "Can't we move further over and +get out of this confounded stench?" + +In that act I had to spend much of my time at the piano, with the result +that when the curtain fell, the people excitedly declared that awful +smell was worst right there, and I had the misery of seeing the prompter +carefully looking into the piano and applying his long, sharp nose to +its upright interior. + +There had been a moment in that act when I thought James Lewis suspected +me. I had just taken my seat opposite him at the chess table, when he +gave a little jerk at his chair, exclaiming under his breath, "Blast +that smell--there it is again!" + +[Illustration: _Mrs. Gilbert, Augustin Daly, James Lewis, Louis James_] + +I remained silent, and there I was wrong; for Lewis, knowing me well, +knew my habit of extravagant speech, and instantly his blue pop eyes +were upon my miserable face, with suspicion sticking straight out of +them. With trembling hand I made my move at chess, saying, "Queen to +Queens rook four," and he added in aside, "Seems to me you're mighty +quiet about this scent; I hope you ain't going to tell me you can't +smell it?" + +But the assurance that "I did--oh, I did, indeed! smell a most +outrageous odour," came so swiftly, so convincingly from my lips, that +his suspicions were lulled to rest. + +The last act came, and--and--well, as I said, it was the last act. White +and rigid and lily-strewn, they bore me on the stage,--Louis James at +the shoulders and George Clarke at the feet. Their heads were bent over +me. James was nearest to the storm centre. Suddenly he gasped, then as +we reached the centre of the stage Clarke gave vent to "phew!" They +gently laid me on the sofa, but through the sobs of the audience and of +the characters I heard from James the unfinished, half-doubting +sentence, "Well, I believe in my soul it's--" But the mother (Miss +Morant) approached me then, took my hand, touched my brow, called for +help, for a physician; then with the wild cry, "She is dead! she is +dead!" flung herself down beside the sofa with her head upon my +goose-grease breast. Scarcely had she touched me, however, when with a +gasping snort of disgust she sprang back, exclaiming violently, "It's +you, you wretch! it's _you_!" and then under cover of other people's +speeches, I being dead and helpless, Clarke stood at my head and James +at my feet and reviled me, calling me divers unseemly names and mocking +at me, while references were made every now and then to chloride of lime +and such like disinfectants. + +They would probably have made life a burden for me ever after, had I not +after the performance lifted tearful eyes to them and said, "I am so +sorry for your discomfort, but you can go out and get fresh air; but, +boys, just think of me, I can't get away from myself and my goose-grease +smell a single moment, and it's perfectly awful!" + +"You bet it is!" they all answered, as with one voice, and they were +merciful to me, which did not prevent them from sending the prompter +(who did not know of the discovery) with a lantern to search back of the +scenes for the cause of the offensive odour. Perhaps I may add that +goose grease does not figure in my list of "household remedies." + +But the next week I was able, in a measure at least, to heal their +wounded feelings. Actresses used to receive a good many little gifts +from admirers in the audience. They generally took the form of flowers +or candy, but sometimes there came instead a book, a piece of music, or +an ornament for the dressing-table; but Alixe's altar could boast an +entirely new votive offering. I received a letter and a box. The letter +was an outburst of admiration for Alixe, the "lily maid the tender, the +poetical," etc. The writer then went on to tell me how she had yearned +to express to me her feelings; how she had consulted her husband on the +matter, and how he had said certainly to write if she wished, and send +some little offering, which seemed appropriate, and "therefore she sent +_this_"; and with visions of a copy of Keats or Shelley or a +lace-trimmed pin-cushion, I opened the box and found the biggest mince +pie I ever saw. + +Certainly the lady's idea of an appropriate gift was open to criticism, +but not so her pie. That was rich perfection. Its fruity, spicy interior +was evenly warmed with an evident old French brandy,--no savagely +burning cooking brandy, mind,--and when the flaky marvel had stood upon +the heater for a time, even before its cutting up with a paper-knife, +the odour of goose grease was lost in the "Araby the Blest" scent of +mince meat. + + + + +_CHAPTER X + +J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT_ + + +The late John E. Owens, while acting in Cincinnati, had a severe cold. +He was feverish, and fearing for his throat, which was apt to give him +trouble, he had his physician, an old friend, come to see him back of +the scenes. The doctor brought with him an acquaintance, and Mr. Owens +asked them to wait till the next act was over to see how his throat was +going to behave. + +It's always a dangerous thing to turn outsiders loose behind the +scenes; for if they don't fall into traps, or step into paint pots, they +are sure to pop on to the stage. + +Mr. Owens supposed the gentlemen would stop quietly in his room, but not +they. Out they wandered on discovery intent. A well-painted scene caught +the doctor's eye. He led his friend up to it, to take a better look; +then as only part of it was visible from where they stood, they followed +it along. + +Mr. Owens and I were on the stage. Suddenly his eyes distended. "What in +the devil?" he whispered. I looked behind me, and at the same moment the +audience burst into shouts of laughter; for right into the centre of the +stage had walked, with backs toward the audience, two tall gentlemen, +each with a shining bald head, each tightly buttoned in a long black +overcoat, and each gesticulating with a heavy cane. + +I whispered to Mr. Owens, "The two Dromios"; but he snapped out, "Two +blind old bats." + +When they heard the roar behind them, they turned their heads, and then +a funnier, wilder exit I never saw than was made by these two dignified +old gentlemen; while Owens added to the laughter by taking me by the +hand, and when we had assumed their exact attitude, singing "Two +wandering boys from Switzerland." + +I am reminded that the first performance I ever saw in my life had one +of the most grotesque interruptions imaginable. At a sort of country +hotel much frequented by driving parties and sleighing parties, a +company of players were "strapped,"--to use the theatrical term, +stranded,--unable either to pay their bills or to move on. There was a +ballroom in the house, and the proprietor allowed them to erect a +temporary stage there and give a performance, the guests in the house +promising to attend in a body. + +One of the plays was an old French farce, known to English audiences as +"The Hole in the Wall." The principal comedy part was a clerk to two +old misers, who starved him outrageously. + +I was a little, stiffly starched person, and I remember that I sat on +some one's silk lap, and slipped and slipped, and was hitched up and +immediately slipped again until I wished I might fall off and be done +with it. Near me sat a little old maiden lady, who had come in from her +village shop to see "the show." She wore two small, sausage curls either +side of her wrinkled cheeks, large glasses, a broad lace collar, while +three members of her departed family gathered together in one fell group +on a mighty pin upon her tired chest. She held a small bag on her knee, +and from it she now and then slid a bit of cake which, as she nibbled +it, gave off a strong odour of caraway seed. + +[Illustration: _John E. Owens_] + +Now the actor was clever in his "make-up," and each time he appeared he +looked thinner than he had in the scene before. Instead of laughing, +however, the old woman took it seriously, and she had to wipe her +glasses with her carefully folded handkerchief several times before +that last scene, when she was quite overcome. + +His catch phrase had been, "Oh! oh! how hungry I am!" and every time he +said it, she gave a little involuntary groan; but as he staggered on at +the last, thin as a bit of thread paper, hollow-cheeked, white-faced, +she indignantly exclaimed, "Well now, _that's_ a shame!" + +The people laughed aloud; the comedian fixed his eyes upon her face, and +with hands pressed against his stomach groaned, "O-h! how hungry I am!" +and then she opened that bag and drew forth two long, twisted, fried +cakes, rose, stood on her tip-toes, and reaching them up to him +tearfully remarked:-- + +"Here, you poor soul, take these. They are awful dry; but it's all I've +got with me." + +The audience fairly screamed; but poor and stranded as that company was, +the comedian was an artist, for he accepted the fried cakes, ate them +ravenously to the last crumb, and so kept well within the character he +was playing, without hurting the feelings of the kind-hearted, little +old woman. + +It's pleasant to know that that clever bit of acting attracted the +attention and gained the interest of a well-to-do gentleman, who was +present, and who next day helped the actors on their way to the city. + +A certain foreign actor once smilingly told me "I was a crank about my +American public." I took his little gibe in good part; for while he knew +foreign audiences, he certainly did _not_ know American ones as well as +I, who have faced them from ocean to ocean, from British Columbia to +Florida. Two characteristics they all share in common,--intelligence and +fairness,--otherwise they vary as widely, have as many marked +peculiarities, as would so many individuals. New York and Boston are +_the_ authorities this side of "the Great Divide," while San Francisco +sits in judgment by the blue Pacific. + +One never-to-be-forgotten night I went to a fashionable theatre in New +York City to see a certain English actress make her début before an +American audience, which at that time was considered quite an +interesting event, since there were but one or two of her countrywomen +over here then. The house was very full; the people were of the +brightest and the "smartest." I sat in a stage box and noted their +eagerness, their smiling interest. + +The curtain was up, there was a little dialogue, and then the stage door +opened. I dimly saw the actress spreading out her train ready to "come +on," the cue was given, a figure in pale blue and white appeared in the +doorway, stood for one single, flashing instant, then lurched forward, +and with a crash she measured her full length upon the floor. + +The shocked "O-h-h" that escaped the audience might have come from one +pair of lips, so perfect was its spontaneity, and then dead and perfect +silence fell. + +The actress lay near but one single piece of furniture (she was alone in +the scene, unfortunately), and that was one of those frail, useless, +gilded trifles known as reception chairs. She reached out her hand, and +lifting herself by that, had almost reached her knee, when the chair +tipped under her weight, and they both fell together. + +It was awful. A deep groan burst from the people in the parquet. I saw +many women hide their eyes; men, with hands already raised to applaud, +kept the attitude rigidly, while their tight-pressed lips and frowning +brows showed an agony of sympathy. Then suddenly an arm was thrust +through the doorway; I knew it for the head carpenter's. Though in a +shirt sleeve, it was bare to the elbow, and not over clean, but strong +as a bough of living oak. She seized upon it and lifting herself, with +scarlet face and neck and breast, she stood once more upon her feet. And +then the storm broke loose; peal on peal of thunderous applause shook +the house. But four times in my life have I risked throwing flowers +myself; but that night mine were the first roses that fell at her feet. +She seemed dazed; quite distinctly I heard her say "off" to some one in +the entrance, "But what's the matter?" + +At last she came forward. She was plump almost to stoutness, but she +moved most gracefully. Her bow was greeted with long-continued applause. +Sympathy, courtesy, encouragement, welcome--all were expressed in that +general and enthusiastic outburst. + +"Why," said she after all was over, "at home they would have hissed me, +had that happened there." + +"Oh!" exclaimed one who heard, "never; they could not be so cruel." + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "_afterward_ they might have applauded, but +not at first. Surely they would have hissed me." + +And with these words ringing in my ears, no wonder that, figuratively +speaking, I knelt at the feet of a New York audience and proudly kissed +its hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI + +STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"_ + + +In the play of "Miss Multon" a number of children are required for the +first act. They are fortunately supposed to be the children of the poor, +and they come to a Christmas party. As I had that play in my +_repertoire_ for several years, I naturally came in contact with a great +number of little people, and that's just what they generally were, +little men and women, with here and there at long intervals a _real_ +child. + +They were of all kinds and qualities,--some well-to-do, some very poor, +some gentle and well-mannered, some wild as steers, some brazen-faced +and pushing, some sweet and shy and modest. I had one little child--a +mere tot--take hold of the ribbon with which I tied my cape and ask me +how much it was a yard; she also inquired about the quality of the +narrow lace edge on my handkerchief, and being convinced that it was +real, sharply told me to look out "it didn't get stoled." One little +girl came every night, as I sat waiting for my cue, to rub her fingers +up and down over the velvet collar of my cape. Touching the soft +yielding surface seemed to give her exquisite pleasure, and I caught the +same child standing behind me when I wore the rich red dress, holding +her hands up to it, as to a fire, for warmth. Poor little soul! she had +sensibility and imagination both. + +The play requires that one child should be very small; and as it was no +unusual thing for the little one to get frightened behind the scenes, I +used to come to the rescue, and as I found a question about "Mamma" won +their attention the quickest, I fell into the habit of saying, first +thing: "Where's mamma? Is she here? Show me, where." And having once won +attention, it had gone hard with me indeed had I failed to make friends +with the youngster. + +One Monday evening as I came to my place, I saw the new baby standing +all forlorn, with apparently no one at all to look after her, not even +one of the larger children. She was evidently on the very verge of +frightened tears, and from old habit I stooped down and said to her, +"Where's mamma, dear?" + +She lifted two startled blue eyes to my face and her lips began to +tremble. I went on, "Is mamma here?" The whole little face drew up in a +distressed pucker, and with gasps she whispered, "She's in er box." + +I raised my head and glanced across the stage. An old gentleman sat in +the box opposite, and I knew a merry young party had the one on our own +side, so I answered: "Oh, no, dear, mamma's not in the box; she's--" +when the poor baby cried, "Yes, she is, my mamma's in a box!" and buried +her curly head in the folds of my skirt and burst into sobs. + +At that moment a hard-voiced, hard-faced, self-sufficient girl pushed +forward, and explained in a patronizing way: "Oh, she's too little to +say it right. She ain't got no mother; she's dead, and it's the coffin +Annie means by the box." + +Oh, poor baby, left behind! poor little scrap of humanity! + +In another city the child was older, nearly five, but so very small that +she did nicely in the tiny trousers (it is a boy's part, as I should +have said before), and when the act was over, I kissed the brightly +pretty face and offered her a little gift. She put out her hand eagerly, +then swiftly drew it back again, saying, "It's money." + +"Yes," I answered. "It's for you, take it." + +[Illustration: _"Little Breeches"_] + +She hung her head and murmured, "It's money, I dar'sent." + +"Why not?" I asked. + +"'Cause we're too poor," she replied, which was certainly the oddest +reason I ever heard advanced for not accepting offered money. I was +compelled to hurry to my dressing-room to prepare for the next act; but +I saw with what disappointed eyes she followed me, and as I kept +thinking of her and her queer answer I told my maid to go out and see if +the pretty, very clean little girl was still there, and, if so, to send +her to my room. Presently a faint tap, low down on the door, told me my +expected visitor had arrived. Wide-eyed and smiling she entered, and +having some cough drops on my dressing-table, I did the honours. Cough +drops of strength and potency they were, too, but sweet, and therefore +acceptable to a small girl. She looked at them in her wistful way, and +then very prettily asked, "Please might she eat one right then?" + +I consented to that seemingly grave breach of etiquette, and then asked +if her mother was with her. + +"Oh, no! Sam had brought her." (Sam was the gas man.) + +"Why," I went on, "did you not take that money, dear?" (her eyes +instantly became regretful). "Don't you want it?" + +"Oh, yes, ma'am," she eagerly answered. "Yes, ma'am, I want it, thank +you; but you see I might get smacked again--like I did last week." + +Our conversation at this embarrassing point was interrupted by the +appearance of Sam, who came for the little one. I sent her out with a +message for the maid, and then questioned Sam, who, red and apologetic, +explained that "the child had never seen no theatre before; but he knew +that the fifty cents would be a godsend to them all, and an honest +earned fifty cents, too, and he hoped the kid hadn't given me no +trouble," and he beamed when I said she was charming and so +well-mannered. + +"Yes," he reckoned, "they aimed to bring her up right. Yer see," he +went on, "her father's my pal, and he married the girl that--a +girl--well, the best kind of a girl yer can think of" (poor Sam), "and +they both worked hard and was gettin' along fine, until sickness come, +and then he lost his job, and it's plumb four months now that he's been +idle; and that girl, the wife, was thin as a rail, and they would die +all together in a heap before they'd let any one help 'em except with +work." + +"What," I asked, "did the child mean by getting a smacking last week?" + +"Oh," he answered, "the kid gets pretty hungry, I suppose, and t'other +day when she was playin' with the Jones child, there in the same house, +Mrs. Jones asks her to come in and have some dinner; and as she lifted +one of the covers from the cooking-stove, the kid says: 'My, you must be +awful rich, you make a fire at both ends of your stove at once. My mamma +only makes a fire under just one hole, 'cause we don't have anything +much to cook now 'cept tea.' The speech reached the mother's ears, and +she smacked the child for lettin' on to any one how poor they are. Lord, +no, Miss, she dar'sent take no money, though God knows they need it bad +enough." + +With dim eyes I hurriedly scribbled a line on a bit of wrapping paper, +saying:--"This little girl has played her part so nicely that I want her +to have something to remember the occasion by, and since I shall not be +in the city to-morrow, and cannot select anything myself, I must ask you +to act for me." Then I folded it about a green note, and calling back +the child, I turned her about and pinned both written message and money +to the back of her apron. The little creature understood the whole thing +in a flash. She danced about joyously: "Oh, Sam," she cried, "the lady's +gived me a present, and I can't help myself, can I?" + +And Sam wiped his hand on his breeches leg, and, clearing his throat +hard, asked "if I'd mind shakin' hands?" + +And I didn't mind it a bit. Then, with clumsy care, he wrapped the child +in her thin bit of a cape, and led her back to that home which gave +lodgement to both poverty and pride. + +While the play was new, in the very first engagement outside of New +York, I had a very little child for that scene. She was flaxen blond, +and her mother had dressed her in bright sky-blue, which was in itself +an odd colour for a little boy to wear. Then the small breeches were so +evidently mother-made, the tiny bits of legs surmounted with such an +enormous breadth of seat, the wee Dutch-looking blue jacket, and the +queer blue cap on top of the flaxen curls, gave the little creature the +appearance of a Dutch doll. The first sight of her, or, perhaps, I +should say "him," the first sight of him provoked a ripple of merriment; +but when he turned full about on his bits of legs and toddled up stage, +giving a full, perfect view of those trousers to a keenly observant +public, people laughed the tears into their eyes. And this baby noted +the laughter, and resented it with a thrust-out lip and a frowning knit +of his level brows that was funnier than even his blue clothing--and +after that one Parthian glance at the audience, he invariably toddled to +me, and hid his face in my dress. From the very first night the child +was called "Little Breeches," and to this day I know her by no other +name. + +Time passed by fast--so fast; years came, years went. "Miss Multon" had +been lying by for a number of seasons. "Renée de Moray," "Odette," +"Raymonde," etc., had been in use; then some one asked for "Miss +Multon," and she rose obediently from her trunk, took her manuscript +from the shelf, and presented herself at command. One evening, in a +Southern California city, as I left my room ready for the first act of +this play, the door-man told me a young woman had coaxed so hard to see +me, for just one moment, that ignoring orders he had come to ask me if +he might bring her in; she was not begging for anything, just a moment's +interview. Rather wearily I gave permission, and in a few moments I saw +him directing her toward me. A very slender, very young bit of a woman, +a mere girl, in fact, though she held in her arms a small white bundle. +As she came smilingly up to me, I perceived that she was very blond. I +bowed and said "Good evening" to her, but she kept looking in smiling +silence at me for a moment or two, then said eagerly, "Don't you know +me, Miss Morris?" + +I looked hard at her. "No," I said; "and if I have met you before, it's +strange, for while I cannot remember names, my memory for faces is +remarkable." + +"Oh," she said, in deep disappointment, "can't you remember me at +all--not at all?" + +Her face fell, she pushed out her nether lip, she knit her level, +flaxen brows. + +I leaned forward suddenly and touched her hand, saying, "You are +not--you can't be--my little--" + +"Yes, I am," she answered delightedly. "I am Little Breeches." + +"And this?" I asked, touching the white bundle. + +"Oh," she cried, "this is _my_ Little Breeches; but I shan't dress him +in bright blue." + +"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how old are you, and how old am I?" + +"Well," she replied, "I'm almost eighteen, and as you look just exactly +as you did when I saw you last, it doesn't matter, so far as I can see, +how many years have passed." (Oh, clever Little Breeches!) + +Then, having had Little Breeches 2d kissed and honestly admired, she +trotted away satisfied; and only as I made my entrance on the stage did +it occur to me that I had not asked her name; so she ends as she began, +simply Little Breeches. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII + +THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN_ + + +In looking over my letters from the gentle "Unknown," I find that the +question, "What advantage has the stage over other occupations for +women?" is asked by a Mrs. Some One more often than by the more +impulsive and less thoughtful girl writer, and it is put with frequency +and earnestness. + +Of course there is nothing authoritative in these answers of mine, +nothing absolute. They are simply the opinion of one woman, founded upon +personal experience and observation. We must, of course, to begin +with, eliminate the glamour of the stage--that strange, false lustre, as +powerful as it is intangible--and consider acting as a practical +occupation, like any other. And then I find that in trying to answer the +question asked, I am compelled, after all, to turn to a memory. + +I had been on the stage two years when one day I met a schoolmate. Her +father had died, and she, too, was working; but she was bitterly envious +of my occupation. I earnestly explained the demands stage wardrobe made +upon the extra pay I drew; that in actual fact she had more money for +herself than I had. Again I explained that rehearsals, study, and +preparation of costumes required time almost equal to her working hours, +with the night work besides; but she would not be convinced. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried, "I am at service, that means I'm a +dependant, I labour for another. You serve, yes, but you labour for +yourself," and lo! she had placed her stubby little finger upon the sore +spot in the working-woman's very heart, when she had divined that in the +independence of an actress lay her great advantage over other workers. + +Of course this independence is not absolute; but then how many men there +are already silver-haired at desk or bench or counter who are still +under the authority of an employer! Like these men, the actress's +independence is comparative; but measured by the bondage of other +working-women, it is very great. We both have duties to perform for +which we receive a given wage, yet there is a difference. The +working-girl is expected to be subservient, she is too often regarded as +a menial, she is ordered. An actress, even of small characters, is +considered a necessary part of the whole. She assists, she attends, she +obliges. Truly a difference. + +Again, women shrink with passionate repugnance from receiving orders +from another woman; witness the rarity of the American domestic. A pity? +Yes; but what else can you expect? The Americans are a dominant race. +Free education has made all classes too nearly equal for one woman to +bend her neck willingly and accept the yoke of servitude offered by +another woman. + +And even this is spared to the actress, since her directions are more +often received from the stage manager or manager than from a woman star. +True, her life is hard, she has no home comforts; but, then, she has no +heavy duties to perform, no housework, bed-making, sweeping, +dish-washing, or clothes-washing, and when her work is done, she is her +own mistress. She goes and comes at her own will; she has time for +self-improvement, but best of all she has something to look forward to. +That is a great advantage over girls of other occupations, who have such +a small chance of advancement. + +Some impetuous young reader who speaks first and thinks afterward may +cry out that I am not doing justice to the profession of acting, even +that I discredit it in thus comparing it with humble and somewhat +mechanical vocations; so before I go farther, little enthusiasts, let me +remind you of the wording of this present query. It does not ask what +advantage has acting over other professions, over other arts, but "What +advantage has it over other occupations for women?" + +A very sweeping inquiry, you see; hence this necessary comparison with +shop, factory, and office work. As to the other professions, taking, for +instance, law or medicine, preparations for practice must be very +costly. A girl puts her family to a great strain to pay her college +expenses, or if some family friend advances funds, when she finally +passes all the dreaded examinations, and has the legal right to hang out +her shingle, she starts in the race of life handicapped with crushing +debts. + +The theatre is, I think, the only place where a salary is paid to +students during all the time they are learning their profession; surely +a great, a wonderful advantage over other professions to be +self-sustaining from the first. + +Then the arts, but ah! life is short and art, dear Lord, art is long, +almost unto eternity. And she who serves it needs help, much help, and +then must wait, long and wearily, for the world's response and +recognition, that, even if they come, are apt to be somewhat uncertain, +unless they can be cut on a marble tomb; then they are quite positive +and hearty. But in the art of acting the response and recognition come +swift as lightning, sweet as nectar, while you are young enough to enjoy +and to make still greater efforts to improve and advance. + +So it seems to me the great advantage of acting over work is one's +independence, one's opportunity to improve oneself. Its advantage over +the professions is that it is self-sustaining from the start. Its +advantage over the arts is its swift reward for earnest endeavour. + +It must be very hard to endure the contempt so often bestowed upon the +woman who simply serves. I had a little taste of it once myself; and +though it was given me by accident, and apologies and laughter followed, +I remember quite well that even that tiny taste was distinctly +unpleasant--yes, and bitter. I was abroad with some very intimate +friends, and Mrs. P----, an invalid, owing to a mishap, was for some +days without a maid. We arrived in Paris hours behind time, late at +night, and went straight to our reserved rooms, seeing no one but some +sleepy servants. + +Early next morning, going to my friends' apartments, I came upon this +piteous sight: Mrs. P----, who had a head of curly hair, was not only +without a maid, but also without the use of her right arm. The fame of +Charcot had brought her to Paris. Unless she breakfasted alone, which +she hated, her hair must be arranged. Behold, then, the emergency for +which her husband, Colonel P----, had, boldly not to say recklessly, +offered his services. + +I can see them now. She, with clenched teeth of physical suffering and +uplifted eye of the forgiving martyr, sat in combing jacket before him; +and he, with the maid's white apron girt tight about him just beneath +his armpits, had on his soldierly face an expression of desperate +resolve that suggested the leading of a forlorn hope. A row of hair-pins +protruded sharply from between his tightly closed lips; a tortoise-shell +back-comb, dangling from one side of his full beard where he placed it +for safety, made this amateur hairdresser a disturbing sight both for +gods and men. + +With legs well braced and far apart, his arms high lifted like outspread +wings, he wielded the comb after the manner of a man raking hay. For one +moment all my sympathy was for the shrinking woman; then, when +suddenly, in despite of the delicious morning coolness, a great drop of +perspiration splashed from the Colonel's corrugated brow, down into the +obstreperous curly mass he wrestled with, I pitied him, too, and +cried:-- + +"Oh, I'll do that. Take care, you'll swallow a pin or two if you +contradict me. Your spirit is willing, Colonel, but your flesh, for all +you have such a lot of it, is weak, when you come to hair-dressing!" + +And regardless of his very earnest protest, I took the tangled, +tormented mass in hand and soon had it waving back into a fluffy knot; +and just as I was drawing forth some short locks for the forehead, there +came a knock and in bounced the mistress of the house, our landlady, +Mme. F----, who, missing our arrival the night before, came now to bid +us welcome and inquire as to our satisfaction with arrangements, etc. +She was a short woman, of surprising breadth and more surprising +velocity of speech. She could pronounce more words to a single breath +than any other person I have ever met. She was German by birth, and +spoke French with a strong German accent, while her English was a thing +to wring the soul, sprinkled as it was with German "unds," "ufs," and +"yousts," and French "zees" and "zats." Our French being of the slow and +precise kind, and her English of the rattling and at first +incomprehensible type, the conversation was somewhat confused. But even +so, my friends noticed with surprise, that Madame did not address one +word of welcome to me. They hastened to introduce me, using my married +name. + +A momentary annoyance came into her face, then she dropped her lids +haughtily, swept me from head to foot with one contemptuous glance, and +without even the faintest nod in return to my "Bon jour, Madame," she +turned to Mrs. P----, who, red with indignation, was trying to sputter +out a demand for an explanation, and asked swiftly:-- + +"Und zat ozzer lady? you vas to be t'ree--n'est-ce pas? She hav' not +com' yed? to-morrow, perhaps, und--und" (I saw what was coming, but my +companions suspected nothing), "und"--she dropped her lids again and +indicated me with a contemptuous movement of the head--"she, zat maid, +you vant to make arrange for her? You hav' not write for room for zat +maid?" + +I leaned from the window to hide my laughter, for it seemed to me that +Colonel P---- jumped a foot, while the cry of his wife drowned the sound +of the short, warm word that is of great comfort to angry men. Before +they could advance one word of explanation, an aproned waiter fairly +burst into the room, crying for "Madame! Madame! to come quick, for that +Jules was at it very bad again!" And she wildly rushed out, saying over +her shoulder, "By und by we zee for zat maid, und about zat udder lady, +by und by also," and so departed at a run with a great rattling of +starch and fluttering of cap ribbons; for Jules, the head cook, already +in the first stages of delirium tremens, was making himself interesting +to the guests by trying to jump into the fountain basin to save the +lives of the tiny ducklings, who were happily swimming there, and Madame +F---- was sorely needed. + +Yes, I laughed--laughed honestly at the helpless wrath of my friends, +and pretended to laugh at the mistake; but all the time I was saying to +myself, "Had I really been acting as maid, how cruelly I should have +suffered under that contemptuous glance and from that withheld bow of +recognition." She had found me well-dressed, intelligent, and +well-mannered; yet she had insulted me, because she believed me to be a +lady's maid. No wonder women find service bitter. + +We had retired from the breakfast room and were arranging our plans for +the day, when a sort of whirlwind came rushing through the hall, the +door sprang open almost without a pronounced permission, and Madame +F---- flung herself into the room, caught my hands in hers, pressed them +to her heart, to her lips, to her brow, wept in German, in French, in +English, and called distractedly upon "Himmel!" "Ciel!" and "Heaven!" +But she found her apologies so coldly received by my friends that she +was glad to turn the flood of her remorse in my direction, and for very +shame of the scene she was making I assured her the mistake was quite +pardonable--as it was. It was her manner that was almost unpardonable. +Then she added to my discomfort by bursting out with fulsome praise of +me as an actress; how she had seen me and wept, and so on and on, she +being only at last walked and talked gently out of the room. + +But that was not the end of her remorse. A truly French bouquet with its +white paper petticoat arrived in about an hour, "From the so madly +mistooken Madame F----," the card read, and that act of penance was +performed every morning as long as I remained in Paris. But one day she +appealed to the Colonel for pity and sympathy. + +"Ah!" said she, "I hav' zee two tr'ubles, zee two sorrows! I hav' zee +grief to vound zee feelin's of zat so fine actrice Americaine--zat ees +one tr'ubles, und den I hav' zee shame to mak' zat grande fool +meestak'--oh, mon Dieu! I tak' her for zee maid, und zare my most great +tr'uble come in! I hav' no one with zee right to keek me--to keek me +hard from zee back for being such a fool. I say mit my husband dat +night, 'Vill you keek me hard, if you pleas'?' Mais, he cannot, he hav' +zee gout in zee grande toe, und he can't keek vurth one sou!--und zat is +my second tr'uble!" + +Behind her broad back the Colonel confessed that had she expressed such +a wish on the occasion of the mistake, he would willingly have obliged +her, as he was quite free from gout. + +So any woman who goes forth to win her living as an actress will at +least be spared the contemptuous treatment bestowed on me in my short +service as an amateur lady's maid. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII + +THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE_ + + +What is the bane of a young actress's life? + +Under the protection of pretty seals stamped in various tints of wax, I +find one question appearing in many slightly different forms. A large +number of writers ask, "What is the greatest difficulty a young actress +has to surmount?" In another pile of notes the question appears in this +guise, "What is the principal obstacle in the way of the young actress?" +While two motherly bodies ask, "What one thing worries an actress the +most?" After due thought I have cast them all together, boiled them +down, and reduced them to this, "What is the bane of a young actress's +life?" which question I can answer without going into training, with one +hand tied behind me, and both eyes bandaged, answer in one +word--_dress_. Ever since that far-away season when Eve, the beautiful, +inquiring, let-me-see-for-myself Eve, made fig leaves popular in Eden, +and invented the apron to fill a newly felt want, dress has been at once +the comfort and the torment of woman. + +Acting is a matter of pretence, and she who can best pretend a splendid +passion, a tender love, or a murderous hate, is admittedly the finest +actress. Time was when stage wardrobe was a pretence, too. An actress +was expected to please the eye, she was expected to be historically +correct as to the shape and style of her costume; but no one expected +her queenly robes to be of silk velvet, her imperial ermine to be +anything rarer than rabbit-skin. My own earliest ermine was humbler +still, being constructed of the very democratic white canton flannel +turned wrong side out, while the ermine's characteristic little black +tails were formed by short bits of round shoe-lacing. The only advantage +I can honestly claim for this domestic ermine is its freedom from the +moths, who dearly love imported garments of soft fine cloth and rare +lining. I have had and have seen others have, in the old days, really +gorgeous brocades made by cutting out great bunches of flowers from +chintz and applying them to a cheaper background, and then picking out +the high lights with embroidery silk, the effect being not only +beautiful, but rich. All these make-believes were necessary then, on a +$30 or $35 a week salary, for a leading lady drew no more. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Jane Eyre"_] + +But times are changed, stage lighting is better, stronger. The opera +glass is almost universally used, deceptions would be more easily +discovered; and more, oh, so much more is expected from the actress of +to-day. Formerly she was required, first of all, to sink her own +individuality in that of the woman she pretended to be; and next, if +it was a dramatized novel she was acting in, she was to make herself +look as nearly like the described heroine as possible; otherwise she had +simply to make herself as pretty as she knew how in her own way, that +was all. But now the actresses of a great city are supposed to set the +fashion for the coming season. They almost literally dress in the style +of to-morrow: thus the cult of clothes becomes harmful to the actress. +Precious time that should be given to the minute study, the final +polishing of a difficult character, is used instead in deciding the +pitch of a skirt, the width of a collar, or open sleeve-strap, or no +sleeve at all. + +Some ladies of my acquaintance who had been to the theatre three times, +avowedly to study as models the costumes, when questioned as to the +play, looked at one another and then answered vaguely: "The performance? +Oh, nothing remarkable! It was fair enough; but the dresses! They are +really beyond anything in town, and must have cost a mint of money!" + +So we have got around to the opposite of the old-time aim, when the +answer might possibly have been: "The acting was beyond anything in +town. The dresses? Nothing remarkable! Oh, well, fair enough!" + +I have often been told by famous women of the past that the beautiful +Mrs. Russell, then of Wallack's Theatre, was the originator in this +country of richly elegant realism in stage costuming. When it was known +that the mere linings of her gowns cost more than the outside of other +dresses; that all her velvet was silk velvet; all her lace to the last +inch was real lace; that no wired nor spliced feathers curled about her +splendid leghorns, only magnificent single plumes, each worth weeks of +salary, this handsome woman, superbly clad, created a sensation, but +alas! at the same time, she unconsciously scattered seed behind her that +sprang up into a fine crop of dragon's teeth for following young +actresses to gather. _Qui donne le menu, donne la faim!_ And right here +let me say, I am not of those who believe the past holds a monopoly of +all good things. I have much satisfaction in the present, and a strong +and an abiding faith in the future, and even in this matter of dress, +which has become such an anxiety to the young actress, I would not ask +to go back to those days of primitive costuming. In Shakespere's day +there appeared over a "drop," or curtain of green, a legend plainly +stating, "This is a street in Verona," and every man with an imagination +straightway saw the Veronese street to his complete satisfaction; but +there were those who had no imagination, and to hold their attention and +to keep their patronage, scenes had to be painted for them. One would +not like to see a woman draped in plain grey with an attached placard +saying, "This is a ball gown" or "This is a Coronation robe," the +imagination would balk at it. But there is a far cry between that and +the real Coronation robe of velvet, fur, and jewels. What I would ask +for is moderation, and above all freedom for the actress from the burden +of senseless extravagance which is being bound upon her shoulders--not +by the public, not even by the manager, but by the mischievous small +hands of sister actresses, who have private means outside of their +salaries. How generous they would be if they could be content to dress +with grace and elegance while omitting the mad extravagance that those +who are dependent upon their salaries alone will surely try to emulate, +and sometimes at what a price, dear Heaven, at what a price! + +Let us say an actress plays the part of a woman of fashion--of rank. As +she makes her first appearance, she is supposed to have returned from +the opera. Therefore, though she may wear them but one moment, hood and +opera cloak are needed because they will help out the illusion. Suppose, +then, she wears a long cloak of velvet or cloth, with a lining of +delicate tinted quilted satin or fur; if the impression of warmth or +elegance and comfort is given, its work has been well done. But suppose +the actress enters in an opera cloak of such gorgeous material that the +elaborate embroidery on it seems an impertinence--a creation lined with +the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real +lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels--what happens? The cloak pushes +forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob +this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak +whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its +beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten +to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of +that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama. + +Extravagance is inartistic--so for that reason I could wish for +moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be +to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for +the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when, +during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five +dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes +for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my +gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the +dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc., +and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up +fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and +they will come to see the new dresses." + +And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are +acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I +can't object any longer. You see, I was under the impression people +came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me +my error." + +For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our +unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am +surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I +surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the +open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial +revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for +me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after +one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill. + +Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she +could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her--that is very +bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and when +the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more +than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest +fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, +fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists +joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best +hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now. + +So the young actress--unless she has some little means, aside from a +salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke +that salary out--is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; +for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and +besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the +poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs. + +Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I +think, have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming +pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in +her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her +$200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 +parasol." + +Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or +beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious +one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those +flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a +spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become +necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is +forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes +were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply +pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter +envy and fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the +mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their +owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the +under girl, in the struggle for clothes! + +In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe +for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and +shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes +of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite +taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for +production after production, it would seem that the management must +share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very +much higher than they were a few years ago. + +In France the stage, no doubt, partly fills the place of the departed +court in presenting new fashions to the public eye, doing it with the +graceful aplomb that has carried many a doubtful innovation on to sure +success. Those beautiful and trained artists take pleasure in first +presenting the style other women are to follow, and yet they share the +honour (?) with another class, whose most audacious follies in dress, +while studied from the corner of a downcast eye, are nevertheless often +slavishly followed. + +How many of the thousands of women, who years ago wore the large, +flaring back, felt hat, knew they were following the whim of a woman +known to the half-world as Cora Pearl? Not pretty, but of a very +beautiful figure, and English by birth, she was, one might say, of +course, a good horse-woman. She banqueted late one night--so late that +dawn was greying the windows and the sodden faces of her guests when +they began to take leave. She had indulged in too much wine for comfort; +her head was hot. She was seized with one of the wild whims of her +lawless class--she would mount then and there and ride in the Bois. +Remonstrances chilled her whim to iron will. Horses were sent for, her +maid aroused. She flung on her habit, and held her hand out for her +chapeau. There was none. + +"Mademoiselle should recall the new riding hat had been too small, had +been returned for blocking." + +"Tres bien, le vieux donc, vite!" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, il fut donné." A quick blow stopped further explanation. + +"Quelle que cruche, que cette fille," then a moment's silence, a roving +about of the small hot eyes, and with a bound she tore from an American +artist's hand his big soft felt hat. Turning the flapping brim up, she +fastened it to the crown in three places with jewelled pins, tore a +bunch of velvet from her dinner corsage, secured it directly in front, +and clapping the hat on the back of her head, dashed downstairs and was +in the saddle with a scrabble and a bound, and away like mad, followed +by two men, who were her unwilling companions. Riding longer than she +had intended, she returned in broad daylight. All Paris was agog over +her odd head gear. Her impudent, laughing face caught their fancy yet +again, and she trotted down from the Arc de Triomphe between two +rippling little streams of comment and admiration, with, "Comme elle est +belle!" "Quelle aplomb!" "Matin, quelle chic!" "Elle est forte +gentille!" "C'est le coup de grace!" "Le chapeau! le chapeau!" "La belle +Pearl! la belle Pearl!" reaching her distinctly at every other moment. + +And that was the origin of the back-turned, broad-brimmed hat that had +such vogue before the arrival of the Gainsborough or picture hat. + +If I were a young actress, I would rather be noted for acting than for +originating a new style of garment; but it is a free country, thank God, +and a big one, with room for all of us, whatever our preferences. And +though the young actress has the clothes question heavy on her mind now, +and finds it hard to keep up with others and at the same time out of +debt, she has the right to hope that by and by she will be so good an +actress, and so valuable to the theatre, that a fat salary will make the +clothes matter play second fiddle, as is right and proper it should, to +the question of fine acting. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV + +THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS_ + + +Thousands of persons who do not themselves use slang understand and even +appreciate it. The American brand is generally pithy, compact, and +expressive, and not always vulgar. Slang is at its worst in contemptuous +epithets, and of those the one that is lowest and most offensive seems +likely to become a permanent, recognized addition to the language. No +more vulgar term exists than "masher," and it is a distinct comfort to +find Webster ascribing the origin of the word to England's reckless +fun-maker,--_Punch_. + +Beaux, bucks, lady-killers, Johnnies,--all these terms have been applied +at different periods to the self-proclaimed fascinator of women, and +to-day we will use some one, any of them, rather than that +abomination,--masher. Nor am I "puttin' on scallops and frills," as the +boys say. I know a good thing when I hear it, as when a very much +overdressed woman entered a car, and its first sudden jerk broke her +gorgeous parasol, while its second flung her into the arms of the +ugliest, fattest man present and whirled her pocket-book out of the +window, I knew that the voice of conviction that slowly said, "Well, she +is up against it," slangily expressed the unfortunate woman's exact +predicament. Oh, no, I'm not "puttin' on frills," I am only objecting +with all my might and main to a term, as well as to the contemptible +creature indicated by it,--masher. + +In a certain school, long ago, there was a very gentle, tender-hearted +teacher, who was also the comforter and peacemaker of her flock. +Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one +else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, +and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the +teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks +of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent +floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue +and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, +"There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll +all be quite happy." I am sure we all thought that it was the eleventh +commandment, "Not to say anything more about it." + +Now every one of us suffered more or less from our encounters with the +multiplication table. Of course _fives_ and _tens_ were at a +premium--even very stupid little girls could get through them, and +_twos_ were not so bad, but the rest of the tables were tear-washed +daily. _Sevens_ were, however, my own especial nightmare--even to this +day my fingers instinctively begin to move when I multiply any figure by +seven. Standing in class on the platform, the _sevens_ one day fell to +me. Being charged to put my hands before me, that I should not by chance +forget and count by their aid, I staggered and reeled through the table +so far as seven times seven, when, moistening my lips, I hoarsely +whispered, "Forty-nine," and the shock of finding the answer correct +destroyed me utterly. Seven times eight was anything they liked in +figures, and so I recklessly cried out, "Oh, sixty-two, I guess," and +burst into tears. Recess came, and I would not move from my desk; and +then the teacher dried my tears on her own cool, sweet handkerchief, and +was comforting me as best she could, when suddenly I stole her thunder +by pressing my damp cheek to hers and saying eagerly, "Don't let us say +anything more about the _sevens_, Miss Sands, and then we'll all be +quite happy." + +Poor little tots! Poor multiplication table! and now, oh, how I would +like to cry, "Don't let us say anything more about the masher, and then +we'll all be quite happy;" but to calm the needless fears of many, let +me say at once, the creature is a nuisance, but not a danger. The +stealthy, crafty, determined pursuer of the young and honest actress is +a product of the imagination. These "Johnnies" who hang about stage +doors and send foolish and impertinent notes to the girlhood of the +stage are not in love--they are actuated by vanity, pure and simple. +These young "taddies," with hair carefully plastered down, are as like +one another as are the peas of one pod,--each wishes to be considered a +very devil of a fellow; but how can that be unless he is recognized as a +fascinator of women, a masher; and the quickest way to obtain that +reputation is to be seen supping or driving with pretty actresses. + +One of the odd things of the professional life is that in the artistic +sense you are not considered an "actress" until you have shown some +merit, have done some good, honest work; but for the purposes of gossip +or scandal, ballet girls, chorus girls, or figurantes become actresses +full fledged. Mammas and aunties of would-be young artists seem to have +made a veritable bogy-man of this would-be lady-killer. What nonsense! +Any well-brought-up young woman, respecting the proprieties, can protect +herself from the attentions of this walking impertinence. Letters are +his chief weapon. If they are signed, it is easy to return them, if one +cares to take so much trouble. A gift would be returned; if sent without +a signature, it need not be shown nor worn. If the creature presumes to +hang about the stage door, a word of complaint to the manager will be +sufficient; the "masher" will at once "take notice" of some other door +and probably of some other actress. But I am asked, Why does he exist? +And I suppose he could not if he were not encouraged, and there does +exist a certain body of girls who think it great fun to get a jolly +supper or a ride to the races out of the Johnny's pocket-book. Wait, +now; please don't jump instantly to the conclusion that these chorus or +ballet girls are thoroughly bad because they smash to smithereens the +conventional laws regulating the conduct of society girls. Most of them, +on the contrary, are honest and, knowing how to take care of themselves, +will risk hearing a few impudent, wounding words rather than lose one +hour of merriment their youth craves. Of course this is not as it should +be, but these girls are pretty; life has been hard; delicate +sensibilities have not been cultivated in them. Before we harshly +condemn, let us first bow to that rough honesty that will defend +itself, if need be, with a blow. A refined girl would never put herself +in a position requiring such drastic measures; but it is, I think, to +these reckless young wretches, and a few silly, sentimental simpletons +who permit themselves to be drawn into a mawkish correspondence with +perfect strangers, that we really owe the continued existence of the +stage-door "masher," who wishes to be mistaken for a member of the +_jeunesse dorée_. + +But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another +reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over +is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising +artist, Miss G----, is not his style. He is not looking for brains, +"don't yer know." He fancies No. 3 in the second row, she with the +flashing eyes and teeth; or No. 7 in the front row, that has the cutest +kick in the whole crowd. And his cheap and common letters of fulsome +compliment and invitation go to her accordingly. But the daring little +free lance who accepts these attentions pays a high price for the bit of +supper that is followed by gross impertinences. One would think that the +democratic twenty-five-cent oyster stew, and respect therewith, would +taste better than the small bird and the small bottle with insult as a +_demi-tasse_. Then, too, she loses caste at once; for it is not enough +that a girl should not do evil: she must also avoid the appearance of +evil. She will be judged by the character of her companions, and a few +half-hearted denials, a shrug of the shoulders, a discreetly suppressed +smile, will place her among the list of his "mashes." Oh, hideous word! + +Of course, now and again, at long, long intervals, a man really falls in +love with a woman whom he has seen only upon the stage; but no "masher" +proceedings are taken in such cases. On the other hand, very determined +efforts are made to locate the actress's family or friends, and through +them to be properly presented. + +Believing, as I did, that every girl had a perfect right to humiliate a +"masher" to the extent of her ability, I once went, it's hard to admit +it, but really I did go, too far in reprisal. Well, at all events, I was +made to feel rather ashamed of myself. We were presenting "Alixe" at Mr. +Daly's Broadway Theatre, just after the fire, and the would-be +lady-killer was abroad in the land and unusually active. There was +seldom a night that some one was not laughing contemptuously or frowning +fiercely over a "drop letter," as we called them. One evening my box +held a most inflammable communication. It was not written upon club +paper, nor had it any private monogram; in fact, it was on legal cap. +The hand was large, round, and laboriously distinct. The i's were +dotted, the t's crossed with painful precision, while toward capitals +and punctuation marks the writer showed more generosity than +understanding. His sentiment and romance were of the old-time rural +type, and I am certain he longed to quote, "The rose is red, the +violet's blue." I might have been a little touched but for the +signature. I loathed the faintest hint of anonymity, and simply could +not bring myself to believe that any man really and truly walked up and +down the earth bearing the name of Mr. A. Fix. Yet that was the +signature appended to the long, rapturous love-letter. I gave it a pitch +into the waste-basket and dressed for the play. Of course I spoke of the +name, and of course it was laughed at; but three nights later another +letter came--oh, well, it was just a letter. The writer was very +diffuse, and evidently had plenty of paper and ink and time at his +disposal. He dwelt on his sufferings as each day passed without a letter +from me. He explained just what efforts he had made, vainly made, to +secure sleep each night. He did not live in a large city when at home, +and he described how nearly he had come to being run over in trying to +cross our biggest street--while thinking of me. Oh, Mr Fix! He bravely +admitted he was due at the store out home, but he kept a-thinking I +might not have got that first letter, or maybe I wanted to look him over +before writing. So he had waited and was coming to the theatre that very +night, and his seat was in the balcony,--No. 3, left side, front +row,--and for fear I might not feel quite sure about him, he would hold +high to his face, in his left hand, a large white handkerchief. + +It didn't seem to occur to him that such an attitude would give him a +very grief-stricken aspect; he only desired to give me a fair chance "to +look him over." Without a second thought, I read that portion of the +letter in the greenroom, and the laughter had scarcely died away when +that admirable actor, but perfectly fiendish player of tricks, Louis +James, was going quietly from actor to actor arranging for the downfall +of A. Fix. + +So it happened that James, Clarke, and Lewis, instead of entering in a +group, came on in Indian file, each holding in the left hand a large +pocket-handkerchief. I being already on the stage, there was of course a +line spread of canvas in the balcony. The audience, ever quick to catch +on to a joke, seeing each man glance upward, followed suit, spied the +enormous handkerchief held high in the left hand, and realizing the +situation, burst into hilarious laughter. Uselessly I pleaded; at every +possible opportunity the white handkerchief appeared in some left hand, +while the stage manager vainly wondered why the audience laughed in such +unseemly places that night. + +The next day that young person, whom I had treated as a common "masher," +heaped a whole shovelful of hot, hot coals upon my guilty head by +writing me a letter less carefully dotted and crossed, somewhat more +confused in metaphor than before, but beginning with: "I am afraid you +are cruel. I think you must have betrayed me to your mates, for I do not +remember that they did such things before last night with their +handkerchiefs." + +Then, after telling me his home address, his business, and his exact +standing socially, he laid these specially large hot coals carefully +upon my brow, "So, though you make a laughing-stock of me, now don't +think I shall be mad about it; but remember if any trouble or sickness +comes to you, no matter how far from now, if you will just write me one +word, I'll help you to my plumb last cent," and truly Mr. Fix left me +ashamed and sorry. + +He had suffered for his name, which I believed to be an assumed one. +Poor young man, I offer an apology to his memory. + +One scamp wrote so brazenly, so persistently, demanding answers to be +sent to a certain prominent club, that I one day laid the letters before +Mr. Daly, and he advertised in the theatre programme that "if Mr. +B.M.B., of such a club, would call at the box office, he would receive +not the answer he expected, but the one he deserved," and Mr. Daly was +highly delighted when he heard that B.M.B., who was a "masher" _par +excellence_, had been literally chaffed out of the club rooms. + +Those creatures that, like poisonous toadstools, spring up at street +corners to the torment of women, should be taken in hand by the police, +since they encumber the streets and are a menace and a mortification to +female citizens. Let some brazen woman take the place of one of these +street "mashers," and proceed to ogle passers-by, and see how quickly +the police would gather her in. + +But so far as the stage "masher" is concerned, dear and anxious mamma, +auntie, or sister, don't worry about the safety of your actress to be. +The "masher" is an impertinence, a nuisance; but never, dear madam, +never a danger. + + + + +_CHAPTER XV + +SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES_ + + +"What social conditions exist behind the scenes?" + +This fourth question is one that Charles Dickens would have called an +"agriwator," and as it is repeated every now and again, I ask myself +where is the curiosity about the theatre, its people, and its life to +end? The question is, What social conditions exist behind the scenes? +Now to be quite frank, the first few times this query appeared, I was +distinctly aggravated. I said to myself, do these ladies and +gentlemen--yes, three males are in this inquiring group--do they think +we are a people so apart from all others that we require a separate and +distinctly different social code; that we know nothing of the law +governing the size, style, and use of the visiting card; that +congratulations, condolences, are unknown rites; that invitations, +acceptances, and regrets are ancient Hebrew to us, and calls, teas, +dinners, and dances are exalted functions far above our comprehension? +And then I read the question again, and saw I was making a ninny of +myself--an easy thing to do with the thermometer at ninety-nine in the +shade. That it said "behind the scenes," and with a laugh I recalled the +little child who had delightedly witnessed her first Christmas +pantomime; and being told afterward I was one of the people of the play, +she watched and listened eagerly some time before coming and resting a +dimpled hand on mine, to ask disappointedly, "Please, does all the +actin' people have 'emselves jes' same as any one?" + +Poor blue-eyed tot, she had expected at least a few twirls about the +room, a few bounds and hand kisses; and here I was "'having" just like +any one. So all my mistaken vexation gone, I'll try to make plain our +social condition behind the scenes. + +In the first place, then, a theatrical company is almost exactly like +one large family. Our feeling for one another is generally one of warm +good-fellowship. In our manners there is an easy familiarity which we +would not dream of using outside of our own little company circle. We +are a socially inclined people, communicative, fond of friendly +conversation, and hopelessly given over to jokes, or, as we put it, "to +guying." + +But don't imagine there's any _socialism_ about a theatre that means +community of property and association; on the contrary, we enter into +the keenest competition with one another. + +I dare say an outsider, as the non-professional has been termed time out +of mind, watching our conduct for a few days and nights, would conclude +that, though quite harmless, we are all a little _mad_. For the actor's +funny habit of injecting old, old lines of old, old plays into his +everyday conversation must be somewhat bewildering to the uninitiated:-- + +If an elderly, heavy breathing, portly gentleman, lifting his hat to a +gentle, dignified little lady, remarks, "Beshrew me, but I do love thee +still. Isn't it hot this morning; take this chair." Or if a very slender +pop-eyed young comedian, while wiping his brow, says, "Now could I drink +hot blood and hold it not a sin," and some one else calmly answers, "You +haven't got those words right, and you couldn't drink anything hot +to-day without having a fit." Or if two big, stalwart men, meeting in +the "entrance," fall suddenly into each other's arms, with a cry of +"Camille!" "Armand!" Or if a man enters the greenroom with his hat on, +and a half-dozen people call, "Do you take this for an ale-house, that +you can enter with such a swagger?" and the hat comes off with a +laughing apology. Or if the man with the cane is everlastingly +practising "carte and tierce" on somebody, or doing a broadsword fight +with any one who has an umbrella. If a woman passes with her eyes cast +down, reading a letter, and some one says, "In maiden meditation, fancy +free." If she eats a sandwich at a long rehearsal, and some one +instantly begins, "A creature not too bright nor good for human nature's +daily food." If she appears in a conspicuously new gown and some one +cries, "The riches of the ship have come on shore," ten to one she +replies, "A poor thing, but mine own." + +These things will look and sound queer and flighty to the outsider, who, +not acquainted with the lines or the plays they are from, cannot of +course see how aptly some of them adapt themselves to the situation. But +this one is plain to all. A young girl, who was a very careless dresser, +was trailing along the "entrance" one evening, when behind her the +leading man, quoting Juliet, remarked, "'Thou knowest the mask of night +is on my cheek,' or I would not dare tell you your petticoat is coming +off;" a perfect gale of laughter followed, in which the little sloven +joined heartily. + +Then one morning, rehearsal being dismissed, I was hurrying away, +intending to enjoy a ride on horse-back, when Mr. Davidge, Mr. Daly's +"old man," lifting his hat politely, and twisting Macbeth's words very +slightly, remarked, "I wish your horse swift and sure of foot, and so I +do commend you to its back," and as I laughed, "Macbeth, Act III," we +parted in mutual admiration for each other's knowledge of the great +play. + +The gentlemen are attentive to the ladies' small needs, providing seats +when possible, bringing a wrap, a glass of water, fanning you if you are +warm, carrying your long train if it is heavy; but never, never losing +the chance to play a joke on you if they can. + +There is generally some ringleader of greenroom fun; for most actors +are very impatient of "waits" between the scenes, and would rather pass +such time in pranks than in quiet conversation. On one occasion some of +the actors had made noise enough to reach the managerial ear, and they +were forfeited. The actresses laughed at their discomfiture, and revenge +was at once in order. Next night, then, four young men brought bits of +calico and threaded needles with them, and when their "wait" came, they +all sat quietly in a row and sewed steadily. The sight was so ludicrous +the women went off into unbounded laughter, and were in their turn +forfeited. + +Nothing excuses the use of swear words behind the scenes, and even a +very mild indulgence is paid for by a heavy forfeit. One actor, not too +popular with the company, used always to be late, and coming into the +dressing room, he would fling everything about and knock things over, +causing any amount of annoyance to his room-mates. He went on in but +one act, the third, and the lateness of the hour made his lack of +business promptitude the more marked. A joke was, of course, in order, +and a practical joke at that. + +One evening he was extra late, and that was the opportunity of the +joking room-mates. They carefully dropped some powerful, strong-holding +gum into the heels of his patent leather shoes, and had barely put them +in place, when the ever-late actor was heard coming on the run down the +passage. In he tore, flinging things right and left, overturning +make-ups, and knocking down precious silk hats. He grabbed his shoes, +jammed his foot into one, scowled and exclaimed disgustedly, "What the +deuce! there's something in this shoe. Bah," he went on, "and in this +one, too!" + +"Take them off and shake 'em," suggested the dropper of the gum. + +"No time," growled the victim; "I'll get docked if I'm a second late. +But these confounded things feel damp in the heels," and he kicked and +stamped viciously. + +"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the +heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now, +personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like--like a +china nest-egg, don't you know; but _damp heels_, it doesn't sound +right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!" + +And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you +spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then +asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place, +"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?" + +"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I +have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This +while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy known in +its fulness to the practical joker alone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"_] + +The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment +his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could +scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried +nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the +street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas, +alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint, +his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck, +it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,--that +they brought both sock and skin with them. + +Three men, with tears in their eyes, had pencils, and kept tally of his +remarks as he danced about after each frantic tug at a glued-on shoe. +One took down every wounding, malicious word. A second caught and +preserved every defamatory word. While the third and busiest one secured +every profane word that fell from his enraged lips. + +Finally he poured the contents of the alcohol bottle into his shoes and, +swearing like a madman, waited for the gum to soften. And the manager, +who was not deaf, proved that his heart was harder than the best gum and +could not be softened at all. And to this day no member of the company +knows how much of the victim's salary was left to him that week after +forfeits for bad words were all paid up. But some good came from the +affair, for the actor was never again so late in arriving as not to have +time to look into his shoes for any strange substance possibly lurking +there. + +Personally, I detest the practical joke, but I have, alas! never been +above enjoying my share of the greenroom fun. Some members of Mr. Daly's +company were very stately and dignified, and he would have been glad had +we all been like them. But there were others who would have had fun with +the tombs of the Egyptian kings, and who could wring smiles from a +graven image. Mr. Daly forfeited at last so recklessly, that either the +brakes had to be put upon our fun or some one would have to do picket +duty. The restless element had a wait of an entire long act in one play, +and among those who waited was a tiny little bit of an old, old man. He +wore rags in his "part," and on the seat of his trousers was an enormous +red patch. He had been asked to stand guard in the greenroom door, and +nothing loath, he only argued deprecatingly: "You'll all get caught, I'm +afraid. You see, Mr. Daly's so sharp, if I cough, he'll hear me, too, +and will understand. If I signal, he'll see me, and we'll all get +forfeited together." + +For a moment we were silently cast down. Then I rose to the occasion +beautifully. I took the wee little man and placed him in the greenroom +doorway, leaning with his back against the door-jamb. When he saw Mr. +Daly in the distance, he simply was to turn his bright red patch +_toward_ us--we would do the rest. + +It was a glorious success. We kept an eye on the picket, and when the +red patch danger signal was shown, silence fell upon the room. Forfeits +ceased for a long time. Of course we paid our watchman for his +services--paid him in pies. He had a depraved passion for bakers' pies, +which he would not cut into portions, because he said it spoiled their +flavour--he preferred working his way through them; and that small grey +face seen near the centre of a mince pie whose rim was closing gently +about his ears was a sight to make a supreme justice smile. + +But our evil course was almost run: our little pie-eater, who was just a +touch odd, or what people call "queer," on Thanksgiving Day permitted +himself to be treated by so many drivers of pie wagons that at night he +was tearful and confused, and though he watched faithfully for the +coming of Mr. Daly, while we laughingly listened to a positively +criminal parody on "The Bells," watched for and saw him in ample time, +he, alas! confusedly turned his red patch the wrong way, and we, every +one, came to grief and forfeiture in consequence. + +Obliging people, generous, ever ready to give a helping hand. Behind the +scenes, then, our social condition, I may say, is one of good-mannered +informality, of jollity tempered by respect and genuine good-fellowship. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVI + +THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION_ + + +Nothing in my autobiography seems to have aroused so much comment, so +much surprise, as my admission that I prayed in moments of great +distress or anxiety, even when in the theatre. + +One man writes that he never knew before that there was such a thing as +a "praying actress." Poor fellow, one can't help feeling there's lots of +other things he doesn't know; and though I wish to break the news as +gently as possible, I have to inform him that I am not a _rara avis_, +that many actresses pray; indeed, the woods are full of us, so to +speak. + +One very old gentleman finds this habit of prayer "commendable and +sweet," but generally there seems to be a feeling of amazement that I +should dare, as it were, to bring the profession of acting to the +attention of our Lord; and yet we are authorized to pray, "Direct us, O +Lord, in _all our doings_, and further us with thy continual help, that +in all our work we may glorify thy holy name." + +It is not the work, but the motive, the spirit that actuates the work; +whether embroidering stoles, sawing wood, washing dishes, or acting, if +it is done honestly, for the glory of the holy name, why may one not +pray for divine help? + +One lady, who, poor soul, should have been born two or three hundred +years ago, when her narrowness would have been more natural, is shocked, +almost indignant; and though she is good enough to say she does not +accuse me of "intentional sacrilege," still, addressing a prayer to God +from a theatre is nothing less in her eyes than profanation. "For," says +she, "you know we must only seek God in His sanctuary, the church." + +Goodness, mercy! in that case some thousands of us would become heathen +if we never found God save inside of a church. + +Does this poor lady not read her Bible, then? Has she not heard the +psalmist's cry: "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there. If I make +my bed in hell, behold, thou art there also; whither shall I flee from +thy presence?" + +Surely, there are a great many places besides the church between heaven +and hell, and even in a theatre we may not flee from His presence. + +But lest the young girl writers should feel abashed over their +expressions of surprise at my conduct, I will show them what good +company they have had. + +A good many years ago a certain famous scholar and preacher of New York +City called upon me one day. I was absent, attending rehearsal. The +creed of his denomination was particularly objectionable to me, but +having wandered into the big stone edifice on Fourth Avenue one Sunday, +I was so charmed by his clear reasoning, his eloquence, and, above all, +by his evident sincerity, that I continued to go there Sunday after +Sunday. + +In my absence he held converse with my mother as to his regret at +missing me, as to the condition of the weather, as to the age, +attainments, and breed of my small dog, who had apparently been seized +with a burning desire to get into his lap. We afterward found she only +wished to rescue her sweet cracker, which he sat upon. + +In his absent-minded way he then fell into a long silence, his handsome, +scholarly head drooping forward. Finally he sighed and remarked:-- + +"She is an actress, your daughter?" + +My mother, with lifted brows, made surprised assent. + +"Yes, yes," he went on gently, "an actress, surely, for I see my paper +commends her work. I have noted her presence in our congregation, and +her intelligence." (I never sleep in the daytime.) "Our ladies like her, +too; m-m, an actress, and yet takes an interest in her soul's salvation; +wonderful! I--I don't understand! no, I don't understand!" A speech +which did little to endear its maker to the actress's mother, I'm +afraid. + +See how narrowing are some creeds. This reverend gentleman was +personally gentle, kind, considerate, and naturally just; yet, knowing +no actor's life, never having seen the inside of a playhouse, he, +without hesitation, denounced the theatre and declared it the gate of +hell. + +In the amusing correspondence that followed that call, the great +preacher was on the defensive from the first, and in reading over two +or three letters that, because of blots or errors, had to be recopied, I +am fairly amazed at the temerity of some of my remarks. In one place I +charge him with "standing upon his closed Bible to lift himself above +sinners, instead of going to them with the open volume and teaching them +to read its precious message." + +Perhaps he forgave much to my youth and passionate sincerity; at all +events, we were friends. I had the benefit of his advice when needed, +and, in spite of our being of different church denominations, he it was +who performed the marriage service for my husband and myself. + +So, girl writers, who question me, you see there have been other pebbles +on my beach, and some big ones, too. + +The question, then, that has been put so many times is, "Can there be +any compatibility between religion and the stage?" + +Now had it been a question of church and stage, I should have been +forced to admit that the exclusive spirit of the first, and the +unending occupation of the second, kept them uncomfortably far apart. +But the question has invariably been as to a compatibility between +religion and the stage. Now I take it that religion means a belief in +God, and the desire and effort to do His will; therefore I see nothing +incompatible between religion and acting. I am a church-woman now; but +for many years circumstances prevented my entering the great army of +Christians who have made public confession of their faith, and received +baptism as an outward and visible sign of a spiritual change. Yet during +those long years without a church I was not without religion. I knew +naught of "justification," of "predestination," of "transubstantiation." +I only knew I must obey the will of God. Here was the Bible; it was the +word of God. There was Christ, beautiful, tender, adorable, and he said: +"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy +soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment; +and the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as +thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." + +Add to these the old Mosaic "Ten," and you have my religious creed +complete. And though it is simple enough for a child to comprehend, it +is difficult for the wisest to give perfect obedience, because it is not +always easy to love that tormenting neighbour, even a little bit, let +alone as well as oneself. How I wish there was some other word to take +the place of "religion." It has been so abused, so misconstrued. +Thousands of people shrink from the very sound of it, believing that to +be religious means the solemn, sour-faced setting of one foot before the +other in a hard and narrow way--the shutting out of all beauty, the +cutting off of all enjoyment. Oh, the pity! the pity! Can't they read? + +"Let all those that seek thee be joyful and glad in thee, and let such +as love thee and thy salvation say always, The Lord be praised." Again, +"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." But it is not always in giving alone +that He loves cheerfulness. Real love and trust in God--which is +religion, mind you--makes the heart feather light, opens the eye to +beauty, the heart to sympathy, the ear to harmony, and all the merriment +and joy of life is but the sweeter for the reverent gratitude one +returns to the Divine Giver. + +One evening, in a greenroom chatter, the word "religious" had in some +way been applied to me, and a certain actress of "small parts," whose +life had been of the bitterness of gall, suddenly broke out with: +"What--what's that? religious--you? Well, I guess not! Why, you've more +spirits in a minute than the rest of us have in a week, and you are as +full of capers as a puppy. I guess I know religion when I see it. It +makes children loathe the Bible by forcing them to learn a hundred of +its verses for punishment. It pulls down the shades on Sundays, eats +cold meat and pickles, locks up bookcase and piano, and discharges the +girl for walking with her beau. Oh, no! my dear, you're not religious." + +Poor abused word; no wonder it terrifies people. + +How many thousand women, I wonder, are kept from church by their +inability to dress up to the standard of extravagance raised by those +who are more wealthy than thoughtful. Even if the poor woman plucks up +her courage and enters the church, the magnificence of her fortunate +sisters distracts her attention from the service, and fills her with +longing, too often with envy, and surely with humiliation. + +Some years ago a party of ultra-high churchwomen decided to wear only +black during Lent. One of these ladies condescended to know me, and in +speaking of the matter, she said: "Oh, I think this black garb is more +than a fad, it really operates for good. It is so appropriate, you know, +and--and a constant reminder of that first great fast--the origin of +Lent; and as I walk about in trailing black, I know I look devout, and +that makes me feel devout, and so I pray often, and you're always the +better for praying, even if your dress is at the bottom of it--and, oh, +well, I feel that I am in the picture, when I wear black during Lent." + +But the important thing is that before the Lenten season was half over, +female New York was walking the streets in gentle, black-robed dignity, +and evidently enjoying the keeping of Lent because, to use a theatrical +expression, "it knew it looked the part." + +So much influence do these petted, beloved daughters of the rich +exercise over the many, that I have often wished that, for the sake of +the poorer women, the wealthy ones would set a fashion of extreme +simplicity of costume for church-going. Every female thing has an +inalienable right to make herself as lovely as possible; and these +graceful, clever women of fashion would know as well how to make +simplicity charming as does the _grande dame_ of France, who is never +more _grande dame_ than when, in plain little bonnet, simple gown, and a +bit of a fichu, she attends her church. + +These bright butterflies have all the long week to flutter their +magnificence in. Their lunches, dinners, teas, dances, games, yachts, +links, race-courses--everyone gives occasion for glorious display. Will +they not, then, be sweetly demure on Sunday for the sake of the +"picture," spare their sisters the agony of craving for like beautiful +apparel? for God has made them so, and they can't help wanting to be +lovely, too. + +Perhaps some day a woman of fashion, simply clad, will turn up her +pretty nose contemptuously at splendour of dress at church service, and +whisper, "What bad form!" + +Then, indeed, as the tide sets her way, she will realize her power, and +the church will have many more attendants. The very poor woman will not +be so cruelly humiliated, and the wage-earning girl, who puts so much of +her money into finery, will have a more artistic and more suitable model +to follow. + +And you are beginning to think that free silver is not the only mad idea +that has been put forward by a seemingly sane person. Ah, well, it's +sixteen to one, you know, that this is both first and last of the church +dress-reform. + +To those two little maids who so anxiously inquire "if I believe prayer +is of any real service, and why, since my own could not always have been +answered," I can only say, they being in a minority, I have no authority +to answer their question here. Perhaps, though, they may recall the fact +that their loving mothers tenderly refused some of their most passionate +demands in babyhood. And we are yet but children, who often pray +improperly to our Father. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVII + +A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS_ + + +What is the most unpleasant experience in the daily life of a young +actress? + +Without pause for thought, and most emphatically too, I answer, her +passing unattended through the city streets at night; that is made +unalloyed misery, through terror and humiliation. The backwoods girl +makes her lonely way through the forest by blazed trees, but the way of +the lonely girl through the city streets is marked by blazing blushes. + +It is an infamy that a girl's honesty should not protect her by night as +well as by day. Those hideous hyenas of the midnight streets are never +deceived. By one glance they can distinguish between a good woman and +those poor wandering ghosts of dead modesty and honour, who flit +restlessly back and forth from alleys dark to bright gas glare; but +bring one of these men to book, and he will declare that "decent women +have no right to be in the streets after nightfall," as though citizens +were to maintain public highways for the sole use one-half the time of +all the evil things that hide from light to creep out at dark and meet +those companions who are fair by day and foul by night. + +Some girls never learn to face the homeward walk with steady nerves, +others grow used to the swift approach, the rapidly spoken word, and +receive them with set, stony face and deaf ears; but oh, the terror and +the shame of it at first! And this horror of the night takes so many +forms that it is hard to say which one is the most revolting--hard to +decide between the vile innuendo whispered by a sober brute or the +roared ribaldry of a drunken beast. + +In one respect I differ from most of my companions in misery, since +they almost invariably fear most the drunkard; while I ground my greater +fear of the sober man upon the simple fact that I can't outrun him as I +can a drunken one, at a pinch. One night, in returning home from a +performance of "Divorce,"--a very long play that brought me into the +street extra late,--a shrieking man flew across my path, and as a second +rushed after him with knife uplifted for a killing blow, his foot caught +in mine, and as he pitched forward the knife sank into his victim's arm +instead of his back as he had intended; and with the cries of "Murder! +Police!" ringing in my ears, I ran as if I were the murderess. These +things are in themselves a pretty high price to pay for being an +actress. + +I had a friend, an ancient lady, a relative of one of our greatest +actors, who, for independence' sake, taught music in her old age. One +night she had played at a concert and was returning home. Tall and +slight and heavily veiled, she walked alone. Then suddenly appeared a +well-looking young son of Belial, undoubtedly a gentleman by daylight. +He tipped his hat and twirled his mustache; she turned away her head. He +cleared his throat; she seemed quite deaf. He spoke; he called her +"girlie" (the scamp!). She walked the faster; so did he. He protested +she should not walk home alone; she stopped; she spoke, "Will you please +allow me to walk home in peace?" + +But, no, that was just what he would not do, and suddenly she answered, +"Very well, then, I accept your escort, though under protest." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Evadne"_] + +Surprised, he walked at her side. The way was long, the silence grew +painful. He ventured to suggest supper as they passed a restaurant; she +gently declined. At last she stopped directly beneath a gas-lamp, and +from her face, with sorrow-hollowed eyes and temples, where everyone of +her seventy-six years had been stamped in cruel line and crease and +wrinkle, she lifted up the veil and raised her sad old eyes +reproachfully to his. He staggered back, turned red, turned white, +stammered, took off his hat, attempted to apologize, then turned and +fled. + +"And what," I asked, "did you say to him?" + +"Say, say," she repeated; "justice need not be cruel. Why add anything +to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek. + +'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and +well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her +tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient +gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because +fate had left her without a protector. + +Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about; +but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch +your hare and then--" so, just catch your policeman. But believe me, +they rarely appear together,--your tormentor of women and your +policeman,--unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then +what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing +against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best +defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl. + +Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and +turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a +sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish +that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a +pity _I'm_ not," and disappeared in the dark side street. + +After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home +nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past +experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls--they +only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety, +though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk +shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then. + +I recall one snowy January night when I was returning home. It was on a +Saturday, and I had played a five-act play twice with but a sandwich for +my dinner, the weather forbidding my going home after the matinee. So +being without change to ride with, hungry and unutterably weary, I +started, bag in hand, to walk up Sixth Avenue. On the east side stood a +certain club house (it stands there yet, by the way), whose peculiar +feature was a vine-hung veranda across its entire front, from which an +unusually long flight of steps led to the sidewalk. Quite unmolested, I +had walked from the stage door almost to this building, when suddenly, +as if he had sprung from the very earth, a man was at my elbow +addressing me, and the fact that he was not English, and so not +understood, did not in the slightest degree lessen the terror his evil +face inspired. I shrank away from him, and he caught at my wrist. It was +too much. I gave a cry and started to run, when, tall and broad, a man +appeared at the foot of the club-house steps, just ahead of me. Ashamed +to be seen running, I halted, and dropped into a walk again. + +Then with that exaggerated straightening of back and stiffening of knee +adopted by one who tries to walk a floor-crack or chalk-line, the second +man approached me. He was very big, he was silvery grey, and his dignity +was portentous. At every step he struck the pavement a ringing blow with +a splendid malacca cane. Old-fashioned and gold-headed, it looked enough +like its owner to have been his twin brother. He lifted his high silk +hat, and with somewhat florid indignation inquired: "My c-hild, was that +in-nfamous cur annoying you shust now? A-a-h!" he broke off, +flourishing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had +hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted +away, across and down the avenue. + +"An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered +unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you +see at this moment, pray, eh? And, by the way, m' child, what in the +devil's name brings yer on the street alone at this hour, say, tell me +that?" and he assumed a most judicial attitude and manner. + +I replied, "I am going home from my work, sir." + +"Y-your w-what?" he growled. + +"My work, sir, at the theatre." + +"Good Lord!" he groaned, "and t-that crawlin' r-reptile couldn't let you +pass, you poor little soul, you!" + +Upon my word, I thought he was going to weep over me. Next moment he +turned his collar up with a violence that nearly upset him, and +exclaimed: "D-don't you be a-fraid. I'll see you safely home. G-go by +yourself? not much you won't! I'll take you to your mother. S-say, +you've got a mother, haven't you? Yes, that's right; every girl's worth +anythin's got a mother. I-I'll take you to her, sure; receive maternal +thanks, a-and all that. Oh, say, boys! look here!" he shouted, and +holding out the big cane in front of me to prevent my passing, he called +to him two other men, who slowly and with almost superhuman caution were +negotiating the snowy steps. + +"Say, Colonel! Judge! come here and help me p-pr'tect this un-fortunate +child." The Judge at that moment sat heavily and unintentionally down on +the bottom step, and the Colonel remarked pleasantly, though a trifle +vaguely, "T-that's the time he hit it"; while the fallen man asked +calmly from his snowy seat, "P-pr-protect what--f-from who?" + +"This poor ch-i-ld from raging beasts and in-famous scoundrels, Judge," +remarked my bombastic friend. + +"We're gentlemen, my dear; and say, get the Judge up, Colonel, and start +him, and we'll _all_ see her safe home. Damn shame, a la-dy can't walk +in safety, w-without 'er body of able-bodied cit-zens to protect her! +Com'er long, now, child." And he grasped my arm and pushed me gently +forward. + +The Colonel tipped his hat over one eye, gave a military salute, and +wavered back and forth. The Judge muttered something about "Honest woman +against city of New York," and something "and costs," and both fell to +the rear. + +And thus escorted by all these intoxicated old gallants, I made my +mortified way up the avenue, they wobbling and sliding and stammering, +and he who held my arm, I distinctly remember, recited Byron to me, and +told me many times that the Judge was "a p-perfect gentleman, and so was +his wife." + +This startling statement was delivered just as we reached Thirty-second +Street. Like an eel I slipped from his grasp, and whirling about, I said +as rapidly as I could speak, "I'm almost home now. I can see the light +from here, and I can't take you any farther out of your way," and I +darted down the darker street. + +Looking back from my own stoop, I saw the three kindly old sinners +making salutations at the corner. My bombastic friend and the Judge had +their hats off, waving them, and the Colonel saluted with such rigid +propriety, it seems a pity that he was facing the wrong way. + +I laugh, oh, yes, I laugh at the memory, until I think how silvery were +these three wine-muddled old heads, and then I feel "the pity, oh, the +pity of it!" + + + + +_CHAPTER XVIII + +A BELATED WEDDING_ + + +It was in a city in the far West that this small incident took place--a +city of the mountains still so young that some of its stateliest +business buildings of stone or marble, with plate-glass, fine furniture, +and electric lighting, were neighboured not merely by shanties, but +actually by tents. + +But though high up in the mountains, the young city was neither too far +nor too high for vice to reach it; and so it came about that a certain +woman, whose gold-bought smiles had become a trifle too mocking and +satirical to be attractive, had come to the young city and placed +herself at the head of an establishment where, at command, every one +from sunset laughed and was merry, and held out hungry, grasping little +hands for the gold showered upon them--laughed, with weary, pain-filled +eyes--laughed, with stiff, tired lips sometimes--but still laughed till +sunrise--and then, well, who cared what they did _then_? + +And this woman had waxed rich, and owned valuable property and much +mining stock, and was generous to those who were down on their luck, and +was quick with her revolver--as the man who tried to hold her up on a +lonely road found out to his sorrow. + +Now to this city there came a certain actress, and the papers and the +theatre bills announced a performance of the old French play of +"Camille." The wealthy Madame Elize, as she styled herself, had heard +and read much of both actress and play, and knew that it was almost a +nightly occurrence for men to shed tears over two of the scenes, while +women wept deliciously through the whole play. + +She determined that she would go to that performance, though the manager +assured the public, in large letters, that no one of her order could +possibly be admitted. And she declared "that she could sit out that or +any other play without tears. That no amount of play-acting could move +her, unless it was to laughter." + +And so the night came, and the best seat in the best box in all that +crowded theatre was occupied by a woman of forty-five, who looked about +thirty-eight, who, but for the fixed, immovable colour in her cheeks and +her somewhat too large and too numerous diamonds, might from her black +silk, rich dark furs, and her dignified bearing have passed for an +honest woman. + +She watched the first act with a somewhat supercilious manner, but the +second act found her wiping her eyes--very cautiously; there was that +unvarying colour to think of. The third act found her well back in the +shadow of the box curtain, and the last act she watched with a face of +such fixed determination as to attract the wondering comment of several +of the actors. + +When the curtain fell, one of them remarked, "I'd like to know what that +woman will do in the next few hours?" + +This is what she did. Keeping back till the house was nearly empty, she +left the theatre alone. Then she engaged a carriage--of which there were +very, very few in that city of the mountains, where the people did most +of their going and coming on horseback--and had herself conveyed to her +home, ablaze with light and full of laughter; and bidding the driver +wait, she entered quietly and went swiftly to her own apartment, where a +man in slippers and dressing-gown sat in a big armchair, sleeping over +the evening paper. + +She lost no time, but aroused him at once, shaking him by the shoulder, +and in cold, curt tones ordered him "to rise and dress for the street, +and to go with her." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in the 1st Act of "Camille"_] + +But he objected, asking: "Why the deuce he should go out that bitter +night? And was she a fool, or did she take him for one?" + +Upon which she had so savagely ordered him "to get on his boots, his +coat, and overcoat" that the sleepiness had vanished from his sharp +eyes, and he had exclaimed, "What is it, Kate? what's happened to you?" + +And she answered: "I've had a blow--no, don't reach for your gun. I +don't mean that--but, Jim, it hurts. (Here, let me tie that for you.) +I've had a blow straight at the heart, and a woman gave it--God bless +her! (Can't you brush your hair up over that thin place? Jim--why, Jim, +upon my soul, you're grey!) Oh, hurry! here, take your fur coat--you'll +need it. Come now--no, I won't tell till we're outside this house. +Come--on the quiet, now--come," and taking him by the arm she dragged +him down the hall and stairs, and so outside the front door. + +There she stopped. The man shivered at the cold, but kept his gleaming +eyes fastened on her white face, "Well?" he said. + +She stood looking up at the glory of the sky above her, where the stars +glittered with extraordinary brilliancy, and in an abstracted tone she +observed, "There's the 'Dipper.'" + +He watched her still silently; she went on: "Do you remember, Jim, when +I taught school down in Westbury, how we used to look at the 'Dipper' +together, because you didn't dare speak--of anything else? You got seven +dollars a week, then, and I--oh, Jim! why in God's name _didn't_ you +speak? Then I might never have come to this." She struck the lintel of +the door passionately, but went right on: "Yes--yes, I'm going to tell +you, and you've got to make a decision, right here, _now_! You'll think +I'm mad, I know; but see here now, I've got that woman's dying eyes +looking into mine; I've got that woman's voice in my ears, and her words +burnt into my living heart! I'll tell you by and by, perhaps, what +those words are, but first, my proposal: you are free to accept it, you +are free to refuse it, or you are free to curse me for a drivelling +idiot; but look you here, man, if you _laugh_ at it, I swear I'll _kill_ +you! Now, will you help me out of this awful life? Jim, will you get +into that carriage and take me to the nearest minister and marry me, or +will you take this 'wad' and go down that street and out of my life +forever?" + +In the pause that followed they looked hard into one another's eyes. +Then the man answered in six words. Pushing away the hand that offered +him a great tight-rolled mass of paper money, he said, "Put that +away--now, come on," and they entered the carriage, and drove to the +home of a minister. There a curious thing happened. They had answered +satisfactorily the reverend gentleman's many questions before he quite +realized _who_ the woman was. When he did recognize her, he refused to +perform the ceremony, and with words of contemptuous condemnation +literally drove them from the house, and with his ecclesiastical hand +banged the door after them. + +They visited another minister, and their second experience differed from +their first in two points,--the gentleman was quicker in his recognition +and refusal, and refrained from banging the door. And so they drove up +and down and across the city, till at last they stood at the carriage +door and looked helpless at each other. Then the man said, "That's the +last one, Kate," and the woman answered, "Yes, I know--I know." She drew +a long, hard breath that was not far from a sob, and added, "Yes, +they've downed me; but it wasn't a fair game, Jim, for they've played +with marked cards." + +She had entered the carriage when the driver with the all-pervading +knowledge and unlimited assurance of the Western hackman remarked +genially: "Madame Elize, there's another gospel-sharp out on the edge of +the town. He's poorer than Job's turkey, and his whole dorgon'd little +scantlin' church ain't bigger than one of them Saratogy trunks, but his +people just swear by him. Shall I take you out there?" + +Madame Elize nodded an assent, and once more they started. It was a long +drive. The horses strained up killing grades, sending out on the cold +air columns of steam from their dilating nostrils. The driver beat first +one hand and then the other upon his knees, and talked amicably if +profanely to his horses; but inside the carriage there was utter +silence. + +At last they stopped before a poor, cold-looking little cottage, and +entering made their wishes known to a blue-eyed, tall young man, with +thin, sensitive lips, who listened with grave attention. He knew +precisely who and what she was, and very gently told her he would have +to ask one unpleasant question, "Was the man at her side acquainted with +her past, or was he a stranger who was being deceived--victimized, in +fact?" + +And Kate, with shining eyes, turned and said: "Tell him, Jim, how for +six honest, innocent years we were friends. Then tell him how for +fifteen years we've been partners in life. Tell him whether you know me, +Jim, or whether you're victimized." + +And then the young minister had told them he was proud and thankful to +clasp their hands and start them on their new path, with God's blessing +on them. And they were married at last; and as they drove away, they +noted the strange outlines of the mountains, where they reared their +stupendous bulk against the star-sown sky. A sense of awe came upon +them--of smallness, of helplessness. Instinctively they clasped hands, +and presently the woman said: "Oh, Jim, the comfort of a wedding ring! +It circles us about so closely, and keeps out all the rest of the +world." + +And Jim stooped his head and kissed her. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIX + +SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR_ + + +It is not often, I fancy, that one defends one's hero or friend from +himself. Yet that about describes what I am doing now for the famous +Salvini. An acquaintance of mine, a man self-contained and dignified, +who was reading the other day, startled me by muttering aloud, "Oh, that +mine enemy would write a book!" and a moment later, flinging the volume +from him, he cried: "Where were his friends? Why did they permit him to +write of himself?" + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed in bewilderment, "where were whose friends? +Of whom are you speaking, and why are you so excited?" + +"Oh," he answered impatiently, "it's the disappointment! I judged the +man by his splendid work; but look at that book--the personal pronoun +forms one solid third of it. I know it does!" and he handed me the +volume in question. + +"Well," I said, as I glanced at the title,--"Autobiography of Tommaso +Salvini,"--"no matter what the book may say, Tommaso Salvini is a mighty +actor." And then I began to read. At first I was a bit taken aback. I +had thought Mr. Macready considered himself pretty favourably, had made +a heavy demand on the I's and my's in his book; but the bouquets he +presented to himself were modest little nosegays when compared with the +gorgeous floral set pieces provided _ad libitum_ for "Signor Salvini" by +Signor Salvini. + +Then presently I began to smile at the open honesty of this +self-appreciation, at the naïve admiration he expresses for his figure, +his voice, his power. "After all," I said, "when the whole civilized +world has for years and years affirmed and reaffirmed that he is the +greatest actor living, is it strange that he should come to believe the +world?" + +"But," growled my friend, "why could he not be content with the world's +statement? Why had he no reticence? Look at these declarations: that no +words can describe his power, that everybody wished to know him, that +everybody wished to claim his friendship, that everybody made it his +boast to be seen in his company, etc." + +"Well," I answered, "you certainly cannot doubt the truth of the +assertions. I believe every one of them. You see, you are not making any +allowance for temperament or early environment. Those who are humbly +born in a kingdom are lifted by a monarch's praise to the very pinnacle +of pride and joy and superiority. Think of the compliments paid this man +by royalty. Think, too, of his hot blood, his quick imagination. You +can't expect calm self-restraint from him; and just let me tell you, +for your comfort, that this 'book Salvini' is utterly unlike the kindly +gentleman who is the real, everyday Salvini." + +My friend looked at me a moment, then shaking hands he added gravely: +"Thank you. The great actor goes upon his pedestal again, to my own +satisfaction; but--but--don't think I care for this book. I'll wait till +some one else tells of his triumphs and his gifts," and laying it upon +the table he took his departure. + +It is astonishing what a misleading portrait Signor Salvini has drawn of +himself. I worked with him, and I found him a gentleman of modest, even +retiring, disposition and most courtly manners. He was remarkably +patient at the long rehearsals which were so trying to him because his +company spoke a language he could not understand. + +The love of acting and the love of saving were veritable passions with +him, and many were the amusing stories told of his economies; but, in +spite of his personal frugality, he was generous in the extreme to his +dear ones. + +When I had got over my first amazement at receiving a proposal to act +with the great Italian, Mr. Chizzola, his manager, stated terms, and +hastened to say that a way had been found by which the two names could +be presented without either taking preference of the other on the bill, +and that the type would of course be the same in both--questions I +should never have given a thought to, but over which my manager stood +ready to shed his heart's blood. And when I said that I should willingly +have gone on the bills as "supporting Signor Salvini," I thought he was +going to rend his garments, and he indignantly declared that such talk +was nothing less than heresy when coming from a securely established +star. + +At one of our rehearsals for the "Morte Civile," a small incident +occurred that will show how gracious Signor Salvini could be. Most +stars, having the "business" of their play once settled upon, seem to +think it veritable sacrilege to alter it, no matter how good the reason +for an alteration; and a suggestion offered to a star is generally +considered an impertinence. In studying my part of Rosalia, the +convict's wife, a very pretty bit of "business" occurred to my mind. I +was to wear the black cross so commonly seen on the breast of the Roman +peasant women, and once at an outbreak of Conrad's, I thought if I +raised that cross without speaking, and he drooped before it, it would +be effective and quite appropriate, as he was supposed to be +superstitiously devout. I mentioned it to young Salvini, who cried +eagerly, "Did you tell my father--did he see it?" + +"Good heavens!" I answered, "do you suppose I would presume to suggest +'business' to a Salvini? Besides, could anything new be found for him in +a play he has acted for twenty years? No, I have not told your father, +nor do I intend to take such a liberty." + +But next morning, when we came to that scene, Signor Salvini held up +his hand for a halt in the rehearsal, called for Alessandro, and, +bidding him act as interpreter, said, smiling pleasantly, to me, "Now +zee i-dee please you, madame?" for young Alessandro had betrayed my +confidence. There was a mocking sparkle in Salvini's blue eyes, but he +was politely ready to hear and reject "zee i-dee." I felt hot and +embarrassed, but I stood by my guns, and placing Alessandro in the +chair, I made him represent Conrad; and when he came to the furious +outburst, I swiftly lifted the cross and held it before his eyes till +his head sank upon my breast. But in a twinkling, with the cry, "No--no! +I show!" Salvini plucked Alessandro out of the seat, flung himself into +it, resumed the scene, and as I lifted the cross before his convulsed +features, his breath halted, slowly he lifted his face, when, divining +his meaning, I pressed the cross gently upon his trembling lips, and +with a sob his head fell weakly upon my breast. It was beautifully done; +even the actors were moved. Then he spoke rapidly to his son, who +translated to me thus: "How have I missed this 'business' all these +years? It is good--we will keep it always--tell madame that." And so, +courteously and without offence, this greatest of actors accepted a +suggestion from a newcomer in his play. + +A certain English actor, who had been with him two or three seasons, +made a curious little mistake night after night, season after season, +and no one seemed to heed it. Of course Salvini, not speaking English, +could not be expected to detect the error. Where the venomous priest +should humbly bow himself out with the veiled threat, "This may yet end +in a trial--and--conviction!" the actor invariably said, "This may yet +end in a trial of convictions!" Barely three nights had passed when +Signor Salvini said to his son, "Why does Miss Morris smile at that +man's exit? It is not funny. Ask why she smiles." And he was greatly put +out with his actor when he learned the cause of my amusement. A very +observant man, you see. + +He is a thinking actor; he knows _why_ he does a thing, and he used to +be very intolerant of some of the old-school "tricks of the trade." +Mind, when I was acting with him, he had come to understand fairly well +the English of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary, and if he was quite +calm and not on exhibition in any way, he could speak it a little and +quite to the point, as you will see. He particularly disliked the old, +old trick called "taking the stage," that is, when a good speech has +been made, the actor at its end crosses the stage, changing his position +for no reason on earth save to add to his own importance. It seemed +Salvini had tried through his stage manager to break up the wretched +habit; but one morning he saw an actor end his speech at the centre of +the stage, and march in front of every one to the extreme right-hand +corner. A curl came to the great actor's lip, then he said inquiringly, +"What for?" The actor stammered, "I--I--it's my cross, you know--the end +of my speech."--"Y-e-es," sweetly acquiesced the star. "Y-e-es, you +cross, I see--but what for?" The actor hesitated. "You do _so_," went on +Salvini, giving a merciless imitation of the swelling chest and stage +stride of the guilty one, as he had crossed from centre down to extreme +right. "You do so--but for _why_? A-a-ah!" Suddenly he seemed to catch +an idea. "A-a-ah! is it that you have zee business with zee people in +zee box? A-a-ah! you come spik to zose people? No? Not for that you +come? You have _no_ reason for come here, you say? Then, for God's sake, +stay centre till you _have_ a reason!" + +It was an awful lesson, but what delicious acting. The simple, earnest +inquiry, the delighted catching at an idea, the following +disappointment, and the final outburst of indignant authority--he never +did anything better for the public. + +During the short time we acted together but one cloud, a tiny, tiny one +of misunderstanding, rose between us, but according to reports made by +lookers-on a good deal of lightning came out of it. Of course not +understanding each other's language, we had each to watch the other as a +cat would watch a mouse, in order to take our cues correctly. At one +point I took for mine his sudden pause in a rapidly delivered speech, +and at that pause I was to speak instantly. We got along remarkably +well, for his soul was in his work, and I gave every spark of +intelligence I had in me to the effort to satisfy him; so by the fifth +or sixth performance we both felt less anxiety about the catching of our +cues than we had at first. On the night I speak of, some one on +Salvini's side of the stage greatly disturbed him by loud whispering in +the entrance. He was nervous and excitable, the annoyance (of which I +was unconscious) threw him out of his stride, so to speak. He glanced +off warningly and snapped his fingers. No use; on went the giggling and +whispering. At last, in the very middle of a speech, wrath overcame him. +He stopped dead. That sudden stop was my cue. Instantly I spoke. Good +heaven! he whirled upon me like a demon. I understood that a mistake had +been made, but it was not mine. I knew my cue when I got it. The humble +Rosalia was forgotten. With hot resentment my head went up and back with +a fling, and I glared savagely back at him. A moment we stood in silent +rage. Then his face softened, he laid the fingers of his left hand on +his lips, extending his right with that unspeakably deprecating +upturning of the palm known only to the foreign-born. An informing +glance of the eye toward the right, followed by a faint "_Pardon_!" was +enough. I dropped back to meek Rosalia, the scene was resumed, the cloud +had passed. But one man who had been looking on said: "By Jove! you +know, you two looked like a pair of blue-eyed devils, just ready to rend +each other. Talk about black-eyed rage; it's the lightning of the blue +eyes that sears every time." + +I had been quite wild to see Signor Salvini on his first visit to +America, and at last I caught up with him in Chicago, and was so happy +as to find my opportunity in an extra matinee. The play was "Othello," +and during the first act he looked not only a veritable Moor, but, what +was far greater, he seemed to be Shakespeare's own "Moor of Venice." The +splendid presence, the bluff, soldierly manner, the open, honest look, +as the "round unvarnished tale" was delivered, made one understand, +partly at least, how "that maiden never bold, a spirit so still and +quiet," had come at last to see "_Othello's_ visage _in his mind_, and +to his honour and his valiant parts to consecrate her fortune and her +soul!" Through all the noble scene, through all the soldierly dignity +and candid speech, there was that tang of roughness that so naturally +clung to the man whose life from his seventh year had been passed in +the "tented field," and who himself declared, "Rude am I in speech, and +little bless'd with the set phrase of peace." + +In short, Salvini was a delight to eye and ear, and satisfied both +imagination and judgment in that first act. Like many people who are +much alone, I have the habit of speaking sometimes to myself--a habit I +repented of that day, yes, verily I did; for when, at Cyprus, Othello +entered and fiercely swept into his swarthy arms the pale loveliness of +Desdemona, 'twas like a tiger's spring upon a lamb. The bluff and honest +soldier, the English Shakespeare's Othello, was lost in an Italian +Othello. Passion choked, his gloating eyes burned with the mere lust of +the "sooty Moor" for that white creature of Venice. It was revolting, +and with a shiver I exclaimed aloud, "Ugh, you splendid brute!" +Realizing my fault, I drew quickly back into the shadow of the curtain; +but a man's rough voice had answered instantly, "Make it a _beast_, +ma'am, and I'm with you!" I was cruelly mortified. + +[Illustration: _Tommaso Salvini_] + +But there was worse to happen that day. The leading lady, Signora +Piamonti, an admirable actress, was the Desdemona. She played the part +remarkably well, and was a fairly attractive figure to the eye, if one +excepted her foot. It was exceptionally long and shapeless, and was most +vilely shod. Her dresses, too, all tipped up in the front, unduly +exposing the faulty members; many were the comments made, and often the +query followed, "Why doesn't she get some American shoes?" I am sorry to +say that some of our daily papers even were ungracious enough to refer +to that physical defect, when only her work should have been considered +and criticised. + +The actors had reached the last act. The bed stood in the centre of a +shallow alcove, heavily curtained. These hangings were looped up at the +beginning of the act, and were supposed to fall to the floor, completely +concealing the bed and its occupant after the murder. The actor had +long before become again Shakespeare's Othello. We had seen him +tortured, racked, and played upon by the malignant Iago; seen him, while +perplexed in the extreme, irascible, choleric, sullen, morose; but now, +as with tense nerves we waited for the catastrophe, he was truly +formidable. The great tragedy moved on. Desdemona's piteous entreaties +had been choked in her slim throat, the smothering pillow held in place +with merciless strength. Then at Emilia's disconcerting knock and demand +for admission, Othello had let down and closely drawn the two curtains. +But alas and alack a day! though they were thick and rich and wide, they +failed to reach the floor by a good foot's breadth--a fact unnoticed by +the star. You may not be an actor; but really when you add to that +twelve or fourteen-inch space the steep incline of the stage--why, you +can readily understand how advisable it was for the dead Desdemona that +day to stay dead until the play was over. + +Majestically Othello was striding down to the door, where Emilia was +knocking for admittance, when there came that long in-drawn breath--that +"a-a-h!" that from the auditorium always means mischief--and a sudden +bobbing of heads this way and that in the front seats. In an instant the +great actor felt the broken spell, knew he had lost his hold upon the +people--but why? He went on steadily, and then, just as you have seen a +field of wheat surged in one wave by the wind, I saw the closely packed +people in that wide parquet sway forward in a great gust of laughter. +With quick, experienced eye I scanned first Othello's garb from top to +toe, and finding no unseemly rent or flaw of any kind to provoke +laughter, I next swept the stage. Coming to the close-drawn curtains, I +saw--heavens! No wonder the people laughed. The murdered Desdemona had +risen, was evidently sitting on the side of the bed; for beneath the +curtains her dangling feet alone were plainly seen, kicking cheerfully +back and forth. Such utterly unconscious feet they were that I think the +audience would not have laughed again had they kept still; but all at +once they began a "heel-and-toe step," and people rocked back and forth, +trying to suppress their merriment. And then--oh, Piamonti!--swiftly the +toe of the right foot went to the back of the left ankle and scratched +vigorously. Restraint was ended, every one let go and laughed and +laughed. From the box I saw in the entrance the outspread fingers, the +hoisted shoulders, the despairingly shaken heads of the Italian actors, +who could find no cause for the uproar. Salvini behaved perfectly in +that, disturbed, distressed, he showed no sign of anger, but maintained +his dignity through all, even when in withdrawing the curtains and +disclosing Desdemona dead once more the incomprehensible laughter again +broke out. But late as it was and short the time left him, he got the +house in hand again, again wove his charm, and sent the people away sick +and shuddering over his too real self-murder. + +As I was leaving the box I met one connected with the management of the +theatre, who, furious over the _faux pas_, was roughly denouncing the +actress, whom he blamed entirely, and I took it upon myself to suggest +that he pour a vial or two of his wrath upon the heads of his own +property man and the stage manager, who had grossly neglected their duty +in failing to provide curtains of the proper length. And I chuckled with +satisfaction as I saw him plunge behind the scenes, calling angrily upon +some invisible Jim to come forth. I had acted as a sort of lightning-rod +for a sister actress. + +Salvini's relations with his son were charming, though it sounded a bit +odd to hear the stalwart young man calling him "papa." Alessandro had +dark eyes and black hair, so naturally admired the opposite colouring, +and I never heard him speak of his father's English second wife without +some reference to her fairness. It would be "my blond mamma," "my little +fair mamma," "my father's pretty English wife," or "before my little +blond mamma died." He felt the "mamma" and "papa" jarred on American +ears, and often corrected himself; but when Signor Salvini himself once +told me a story of his father, he referred to him constantly as "my +papa," just as he does in this book of his that makes him seem so +egotistical and so determined to find at all costs the vulnerable spot, +the weak joint in the armour, of all other actors. + +Certainly he could not have been an egotist in the bosom of his family. +A friend in London went to call upon his young wife, his "white lily." +She was showing the house to her visitor, when, pausing suddenly before +a large portrait of her famous husband, she became silent, her uplifted +eyes filled, her lips smiled tremulously, she gave a little gasp, and +whispered, "Oh, he's almost like God to me!" + +The friend, startled, even shocked, was about to reprove her, but a +glance into the innocent face showed no sacrilege had been meant, only +she had never been honoured, protected, happy, before--and some women +worship where they love. Could an egotist win and keep such affection +and gratitude as that? + +Among those who complain of his opinionated book I am amused to find one +who fairly exhausted himself in praise, not to say flattery, of this +same Salvini. It is very diverting to the mere looker-on, when the world +first proclaims some man a god, bowing down and worshipping him, and +then anathematizes him if he ventures to proclaim his own godship. I +have my quarrel with the book, I confess it. I am sorry he does not show +how he did his tremendous work, show the nature of those sacrifices he +made. How one would enjoy a word-picture of the place where he obtained +his humble meals in those earliest days of struggle; who shared them, +and in what spirit they were discussed, grave or gay! Italian life is +apt to be picturesque, and these minor circumstances mean much when one +tries to get at the daily life of a man. But Salvini has given us merely +splendid results, without showing us _how_ he obtained them. Yet what a +lesson the telling would have been for some of our indolent actors! Why, +even at the zenith of his career, Salvini attended personally to duties +most actors leave to their dressers. He used to be in his dressing-room +hours before the overture was on, and in an ancient gown he would polish +his armour, his precious weapons or ornaments, arrange his wigs, examine +every article of dress he would require that night, and consequently he +never had mishaps. He used to say: "The man there? Oh, yes, he can pack +and lock and strap and check, but only an actor can understand the care +of these artistic things. What I do myself is well done; this work is +part of my profession; there is no shame in doing it. And all the time I +work, I think--I think of the part--till I have all forgot--_all_ but +just that part's self." + +And yet, O dear, these are the things he does not put in his book. When +he was all dressed and ready for the performance, Salvini would go into +a dark place and walk and walk and walk; sometimes droopingly, sometimes +with martial tread. Once, I said, "You walk far, signor?" + +"_Si, signorina_," he made answer, then eagerly, "_I walk me into him!_" +And while the great man was "walking into the character," the actors who +supported him smoked cigarettes at the stage door until the dash for +dressing room and costume. + +Some women scold because he has not given pictures of the great people +whom he met. "Why," they ask, "did he not describe Crown Princess +Victoria" (the late Empress Frederick) "at least--how she looked, what +she wore? Such portraits would be interesting." But Salvini was not +painting portraits, not even his own--truly. He was giving a list of his +triumphs; and if he has shown self-appreciation, he was at least +perfectly honest. There is no hypocrisy about him. If he knew Uriah +Heep, he did not imitate him; for in no chapter has he proclaimed +himself "'umble." If one will read Signor Salvini's book, remembering +that the pæans of a world have been sung in his honour, and that he +really had no superior in his artistic life, I think the I's and my's +will seem simply natural. + +However he may have been admired in other characters, I do truly believe +that only those who have seen him in "Othello" and "Morte Civile" can +fully appreciate the marvellous art of the actor. I carry in my mind two +pictures of him,--Othello, the perfect animal man, in his splendid +prime, where, in a very frenzy of conscious strength, he dashes Iago to +the earth, man and soldier lost in the ferocity of a jungle male beast, +jealously mad--an awful picture of raging passion. The other, Conrad, +after the escape from prison; a strong man broken in spirit, wasted with +disease, a great shell of a man--one who is legally dead, with the +prison pallor, the shambling walk, the cringing manner, the furtive +eyes. But oh, that piteous salute at that point when the priest +dismisses him, and the wrecked giant, timid as a child, humbly, +deprecatingly touches the priest's hand with his finger-tips and then +kisses them devoutly! I see that picture yet, through tears, just as I +saw for the first time that illustration of supreme humility and +veneration. + +Oh, never mind a little extravagance with personal pronouns! A beloved +father, a very thorough gentleman, but above all else the greatest actor +of his day. There is but the one Salvini, and how can he help knowing +it? So to book and author--ready! _Viva Salvini!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER XX + +FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE_ + + +The circus season was over, the animals had gone into comfortable winter +quarters, while the performers, less fortunate than the beasts, were +scattered far and near, "some in rags and some in tags, and some" (a +very few) "in velvet gowns." But one small group had found midwinter +employment, a party of Japanese men and women, who were jugglers, +contortionists, and acrobats; and as their work was pretty as well as +novel, they found a place on the programme of some of the leading +vaudeville theatres. + +They were in a large Western city. Behind the curtain their retiring +manners, their exquisite cleanliness, their grave and gentle +politeness, made them favourites with the working forces of the theatre, +while before the curtain the brilliant, graceful precision with which +they carried out their difficult, often dangerous, performance won them +the high favour of the public. + +On that special day the matinee was largely attended, the theatre being +filled, even to the upper circles, as at night. Smilingly the audience +had watched the movements of the miniature men and women in their +handsome native costumes, and with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" had seen them +emerge from those robes, already arrayed for acrobatic work, in suits of +black silk tights with trunks and shoulder and wrist trimmings of red +velvet fairly stiffened with gold embroideries; and then came the act +the people liked best, because it contained the element of danger, +because in its performance a young girl and a little lad smilingly +risked life and limb to entertain them. + +The two young things had climbed like cats up to the swinging bars, +high up, where the heat had risen from a thousand gas lights, and the +blood thundered in their ears, and the pulses on their temples beat like +hammers. So high, that looking down through the quivering, bluish mist, +the upturned faces of the people merged together and became like the +waters of a pale, wide pool. Their work was well advanced. With +clocklike precision they had obeyed, ever-smilingly obeyed, the orders +conveyed to them by the sharp tap of the fan their trainer held, though +to the audience the two young forms glittering in black and scarlet and +gold, poising and fluttering there, were merely playing in midair like a +pair of tropical birds. + +They were beginning their great feat, in which danger was so evident +that women often cried out in terror and some covered their eyes and +would not look at all--the music even had sunken to a sort of tremor of +fear. They were for the moment hanging head downward from their +separate bars, when across the stillness came the ominous sound of +cracking, splintering wood; afterward it was known that the rung of a +chair in an upper private box had broken, but then,--but _then_! the +sound was close to the swaying girl's ear! + +Believing it was her bar that was breaking, her strained nerves tore +free from all control! Driven by fear, she made a mad leap out into +space, reaching frantically for the little brown hands that a half +second later would have been ready for her, with life and safety in +their tenacious grasp. + +To those who do their work in space and from high places, the distance +between life and death, between time and eternity, is often measured by +half seconds. Little Omassa had leaped too soon, the small brown hands +with power to save were not extended. She grasped the empty air, gave a +despairing cry, and as she whirled downward, had barely time to realize +that the sun had gone black out in the sky, and that the world with its +shrieking millions was thundering to its end, when the awful crash came. + +There were shouts and shrieks, tears and groans, and here and there +helpless fainting. Ushers rushed from place to place, the police +appeared suddenly. The Japanese, silent, swift, self-controlled, were +moving their paraphernalia that the curtain might be lowered, were +stretching a small screen about the inert, fallen figure, were bringing +a rug to lift her on, and their faces were like so many old, _old_ ivory +masks. + +Tom McDermott, in his blue coat, stood by the silent little figure +waiting for the rug and for the coming of the doctor, and groaned, "On +her face, too--and she a girl child!" + +Tom had seen three battle-fields and many worse sights, but none of them +had misted his eyes as did this little glittering, broken heap, and he +turned his face away and muttered, "If she'd only keep quiet!" for truly +it was dreadful to see the long shudders that ran over the silent, +huddled thing, to see certain red threads broadening into very rivulets. +At last the ambulance, then the all-concealing curtain, the reviving +music, a song, a pretty dance, and _presto_, all was forgotten! + +When Omassa opened her eyes, her brain took up work just where it had +left off; therefore she was astonished to find the sun shining, for had +she not seen the sun go out quite black in the sky? Yet here it was so +bright, and she was--was, where? The room was small and clean, oh, +clean! like a Japanese house, and almost as empty. Could it be? But no, +this bed was American, and then why was she so heavy? What great weight +was upon her? She could not move one little bit, and oh, my! _what_ was +it she could faintly see beyond and below her own nose--was it shadow? +Surely she could not see her own _lip_? She smiled at that, and the +movement wrung a cry of agony from her--when, like magic, a face was +bending over her, so kind and gentle, and then a joyous voice cried to +some one in the next room, "This little girl, not content with being +alive, sir, has her senses--is she not a marvel?" + +And with light, delicate touch the stranger moistened the distended, +immovable lip poor Omassa had dimly seen, through which her lower teeth +had been driven in her fall, and in answer to her pleading, questioning +glances at her own helpless body, told her she was encased in plaster +now, but by and by she would be released, and now she was to be very +quiet and try to sleep. And then she smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the +white quilt, shut out the sunlight, and, smiling kindly back at her, +left Omassa, who obediently fell asleep--partly because her life was one +of obedience, and partly because there was nothing else to do. + +And then began the acquaintance between Mrs. Helen Holmes, nurse, and +Omassa, Japanese acrobat. The other nurses teased Helen Holmes about +her pet patient, saying she was only a commonplace, Japanese child +woman; but Mrs. Holmes would exclaim, "If you could only see her light +up and glow!" + +And so they came to calling Omassa "the lantern," and would jestingly +ask "when she was going to be lighted up"; but there came a time when +Mrs. Holmes knew the magic word that would light the flame and make the +lantern glow, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire; like opal and +tourmaline. + +The child suffered long and terribly; both arms were broken, and in +several places, also her little finger, a number of ribs, her +collar-bone, and one leg, while cuts were simply not counted. During her +fever-haunted nights she babbled Japanese for hours, with one single +English name appearing and reappearing almost continually,--the name of +Frank; and when she called that name it was like the cooing of a pigeon, +and the down-drooping corners of her grave mouth curled upward into +smiles. She spoke English surprisingly well, as the other members of the +troupe only knew a very little broken English; and had she not placed +the emphasis on the wrong syllable, her speech, would have been almost +perfect. + +Generally she was silent and sad and unsmiling, but grateful, +passionately grateful to her "nurse-lady," as she called Mrs. Holmes; +yet when, that kind woman stooped to kiss her once, Omassa shrank from +the caress with such repugnance as deeply to wound her, until the +little Japanese had explained to her the national abhorrence of kissing, +assuring her over and over again that even "the Japan ma'ma not kiss +little wee baby she love." + +Mrs. Holmes ceased to wonder at the girl's sadness when she found she +was absolutely alone in the world: no father, no mother; no, no sister, +no brother, "no what you call c-cousine?--no nothing, nobody have I got +what belong to me," she said. + +One morning, as her sick-room toilet was completed, Mrs. Holmes said +lightly:-- + +"Omassa, who is Frank?" and then fairly jumped at the change in the +ivory-tinted, expressionless face. Her long, narrow eyes glowed, a pink +stain came on either cheek, she raised herself a little on her best arm, +eagerly she cried, "You know him--oh, you know Frank?" + +Regretfully Mrs. Holmes answered, "No, dear, I don't know him." + +"But," persisted Omassa, "you know him, or how could you speak his +name?" + +"I learned the name from you, child, when you talked in the fever. I am +very sorry I have caused you a disappointment. I am to blame for my +curiosity--forgive me." + +All the light faded from her face and very quietly she lay down upon her +pillow, her lips close-pressed, her eyes closed; but she could not hide +the shining of the tears that squeezed between her short, thick lashes +and clung to them. 'Twas long before his name was mentioned again; but +one day something had been said of friends, when Omassa with intense +pride had exclaimed:--"I have got my own self one friend--he--my friend +Frank." + +"What's his other name?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he very poor, he got only one name." + +"But, dear, he must have another name, he is Frank somebody or +something." + +"No! no!" persisted Omassa with gentle obstinacy, "he tell me always +true, he very poor, good man--he got only one name, my Frank Sen." + +"There," cried Mrs. Holmes, triumphantly, "you see he _has_ two names +after all, you have just called him by them both--Frank Sen." + +At which the invalid sent forth a tinkling laugh of amusement, crying: +"Oh, that not one man's name, oh, no! That Sen that like your Mr.--Mrs.; +you nurse-lady, you Holmes Sen. Ito--big Japan fight man, he Ito Sen, +you unnerstand me, nurse-lady?" + +"Yes, child, I understand. Sen is a title, a term of respect, and you +like to show your friend Frank all the honour you can, so you call him +Frank Sen." + +And Omassa with unconscious slanginess gravely answered: "You right _on_ +to it at first try. My boss" (her manager Kimoto) "find _me_ baby in +Japan, with very bad old man. He gamble all time. I not know why he have +me, he not my old man, but he sell me for seven year to Kimoto, and +Kimoto teach me jump, turn, twist, climb, and he send my money all to +old man--_all_. We go Mexico--South America--many Islands--to German +land, and long time here in this most big America--and the world so +big--and then I so little Japan baby--I no play--I no sing--I know +nothing what to do--and just _one_ person in this big lonesome_ness_ +make a kindness to me--my Frank Sen--just one man--just one woman in all +world make goodness to me--my Frank Sen and my nurse-lady," and she +stroked with reverent little fingers the white hand resting on the bed +beside her. + +"What was he like, your Frank?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he one big large American man--he not laugh many times loud, but he +laugh in he blue eye. He got brown mustache and he hair all short, +thick, wavy--like puppy dog's back. He poor--he not perform in circus, +oh, no! He work for put up tents, for wagon, for horses. He ver good man +for fight too--he smash man that hurt horse--he smash man that kick dog +or push me, Japan baby. Oh, he best man in all the world" (the exquisite +Madame Butterfly was not known yet, so Omassa was not quoting). "He tell +me I shall not say some words, 'damn' and 'hell' and others more long, +more bad, and he tell me all about that 'hell' and where is--and how you +get in for steal, for lie, for hurt things not so big as you--and how +you can't get out again where there is cool place for change--and he +smooth my hair and pat my shoulder, for he know Japan people don't ever +be kissed--and he call me one word I cannot know." + +She shook her head regretfully. "He call me 'poor little wave'--why poor +little wave--wave that mean water?" she sighed. "I can't know why Frank +Sen call me that." + +But quick-witted Mrs. Holmes guessed the word had been "waif"--poor +little waif, and she began dimly to comprehend the big-hearted, rough +tent-man, who had tried to guard this little foreign maid from the +ignorance and evil about her. + +"But," resumed Omassa, with perfect conviction, "Frank Sen meaned +goodness for me when he called me 'wave'--I know _that_. What you think +that big American man do for help me little Japan baby--with no sense? +Well, I will tell you. When daylight circus-show over, he take me by +hand and lead me to shady place between tents--he sit down--put me at he +knee, and in what you call primer-book with he long brown finger he +point out and make me know all those big fat letters--yes, he do _that_. +Other mens make of him fun--and he only laugh; but when they say he my +father and say of me names, he lay down primer and fight. When he lay +out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more +letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know _all_, and +_then_ he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, +and so it come that one day next week was going to be his +fête-day,--what you call birsday,--and I make very big large secret." + +She lifted herself excitedly in bed, her glowing eyes were on her +nurse's face, her lips trembled, the "lantern" was alight and glowing +radiantly. + +"What you think I do for my Frank Sen's birsday? I have never one +penny,--I cannot buy,--but I make one big great try. I go to +circus-lady, that ride horse and jump hoops--she read like Frank Sen. I +ask her show me some right letters. Oh, I work hard--for I am very +stupid Japan child; but when that day come, Frank Sen he lead me to +shady place--he open primer--then," her whole face was quivering with +fun at the recollection, "then I take he long finger off--I put _my_ +finger and I slow spell--not cat--not dog--oh, _what_ you think?--I +spell F-r-a-n-k--Frank! He look to me, and then he make a big jump--he +catch me--toss me, high up in air, and he shout big glad shout, and then +I say--'cause for your birsday.' He stop, he put me down, and he eyes +come wet, and he take my hand and he say: 'Thank you, that's the only +birsday gift I ever _re_ceived that was not from my mother. Spell it +again for me,' he said; and then he was very proud and said, 'there was +not any-other birsday gift like that in all the world!' What you think +of _that_? + +"Then the end to season of circus come--Frank Sen he kneel down by +me--he very sad--he say, 'I have nothing to give--I am such a fool--and +the green-cloth--oh, the curse of the green-cloth!' He took off my Japan +slippers and smiled at them and said, 'Poor little feet'; he stroked my +hands and said, 'Poor little hands'; he lifted up my face and said, +'Poor little wave'; then he look up in air and he say, very +troubled-like, 'A few home memories--some small knowledge, all I had, I +have given her. To read a little is not much, but maybe it may help her +some day, and I have nothing more to give!' + +"And I feeling something grow very fast, here and here" (touching throat +and breast), "and I say, '_You_ have nothing to give me? well'--and then +I forget all about I am little Japan girl, and I cry, 'Well, _I_ have +something to give you, Frank Sen, and that is one kiss!' And I put my +arms about he neck and make one big large kiss right on he kind lips." + +Her chin sank upon her night-robed breast. After a moment she smiled +deprecatingly at Mrs. Holmes and whispered: "You forgive me, other day? +You see I Japan girl--and just once I give big American kiss to my +friend, Frank Sen." + + + + +_CHAPTER XXI + +STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR_ + + +It was during the rehearsals of "L'Article 47" that I enjoyed one single +hearty laugh,--a statement that goes far to show my distressed state of +mind,--for generally speaking that is an unusual day which does not +bring along with its worry, work, and pain some bubble of healing +laughter. It was a joke of Mr. Le Moyne's own special brand that found +favour in my eyes and a place in my memory. Any one who has ever served +under Mr. Daly can recall the astounding list of rules printed in fine +type all over the backs of his contracts. The rules touching on +_forfeits_ seemed endless: "For being late," "For a stage wait," "For +lack of courtesy," "For gossiping," "For wounding a companion's +feelings"--each had its separate forfeiture. "For addressing the manager +on business outside of his office," I remember, was considered worth one +dollar for a first offence and more for a second. Most of these rules +ended with, "Or discharge at the option of the manager." But it was well +known that the mortal offence was the breaking that rule whose very +first forfeit was five dollars, "Or discharge at the option of," etc., +that rule forbidding the giving to outsiders of any stage information +whatever; touching the plays in rehearsal, their names, scenes, length, +strength, or story; and to all these many rules on the backs of our +contracts we assented and subscribed our amused or amazed selves. + +When the new French play "L'Article 47" was announced, the title aroused +any amount of curiosity. A reporter after a matinee one day followed me +up the avenue, trying hard to get me to explain its meaning; but I was +anxious not to be "discharged at the option of the manager," and +declined to explain. Many of the company received notes asking the +meaning of the title. At Mr. Le Moyne's house there boarded a walking +interrogation-point of a woman. She wished to know what "L'Article 47" +meant; she would know. She tried Mr. Harkins; Mr. Harkins said he didn't +know. She tossed her head and tried Mr. Crisp; Mr. Crisp patiently and +elaborately explained just why he could not give any information. She +implied that he did not know a lady when he saw one, and fell upon Mr. +Le Moyne, tired, hungry, suavely sardonic. "_He_ was," she assured him, +"a gentleman of the old school. _He_ would know how to receive a lady's +request and honour it." And Le Moyne rose to the occasion. A large +benevolence sat upon his brow, as assuring her that, though he ran the +risk of discharge for her fair sake, yet should she have her will. He +asked if she had ever seen a Daly contract. The bridling, simpering +idiot replied, "She had seen several, and such numbers of silly rules +she had never seen before, and--" + +"That's it," blandly broke in Le Moyne, "there's the explanation of the +whole thing--see? 'L' Article 47' is a five-act dramatization of the +47th rule of Daly's contract." + +"Did you ever?" gasped the woman. + +"No," said Le Moyne, reaching for bread, "I never did; but Daly's up to +anything, and he'd discharge me like a shot if he should ever hear of +this." + +It was almost impossible to get Mr. Daly to laugh at an actor's joke; he +was too generally at war with them, and he was too often the object of +the jest. But he did laugh once at one of the solemn frauds perpetrated +on me by this same Le Moyne. + +On the one hundred and twenty-fifth performance of "Divorce" I had +"stuck dead," as the saying is. Not a word could I find of my speech. I +was cold--hot--cold again. I clutched Mrs. Gilbert's hand. I whispered +frantically: "What is it? Oh! what is the word?" But horror on horror, +in my fall I had dragged her down with me. She, too, was +bewildered--lost. "I don't know," she murmured. There we were, all at +sea. After an awful wait I walked over and asked Captain Lynde (Louis +James) to come on, and the scene continued from that point. I was +angry--shamed. I had never stuck in all my life before, not even in my +little girl days. Mr. Daly was, of course, in front. He came rushing +back to inquire, to scold. Every one joked me about my probable +five-dollar forfeit. Well, next night came, and at that exact line I did +it again. Of course that was an expression of worn-out nerves; but it +was humiliating in the extreme. Mr. Daly, it happened, was attending an +opening elsewhere, and did not witness my second fall from grace. Then +came Le Moyne to me--big and grave and kind, his plump face with the +shiny spots on the cheek-bones fairly exuding sympathetic commiseration. +He led me aside, he lowered his voice, he addressed me gently:-- + +[Illustration: _W.J. Le Moyne_] + +"You stuck again, didn't you, Clara? Too bad! too bad! and of course you +apprehend trouble with Daly? I'm awfully sorry. Ten dollars is such a +haul on one week's salary. But see here, I've got an idea that will help +you out, if you care to listen to it." + +I looked hard at him, but the wretch had a front of brass; his +benevolence was touching. I said eagerly: "Yes, I do care indeed to +listen. What is the idea?" + +He beamed with affectionate interest, as he said impressively, "Well, +now you know that a bad 'stick' generally costs five dollars in this +theatre?" + +"Yes," I groaned. + +"And you stuck awfully last night?" + +"Yes," I admitted. + +"Then to-night you go and repeat the offence. But here is where I see +hope for you. Daly is not here; he does not know yet what you have done. +Watch then for his coming. This play is so long he will be here before +it's over. Go to his private office at once. Get ahead of every one +else; do you understand? Approach him affably and frankly. Tell him +yourself that you have unfortunately stuck again, and then offer him +_the two 'sticks' for eight dollars_. If he's a gentleman and not a Jew, +he'll accept your proposal." + +Just what remarks I made to my sympathetic friend Le Moyne at the end of +that speech I cannot now recall. If any one else can, I can only say I +was not a church member then, and let it pass at that. But when I opened +my envelope next salary day and saw my full week's earnings there, I +went to Mr. Daly's office and told him of my two "sticks" and of Le +Moyne's proposed offer, and for once he laughed at an actor's joke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XXII + +POOR SEMANTHA_ + + +It has happened to every one of us, I don't know why, but every mother's +son or daughter of us can look back to the time when we habitually +referred to some acquaintance or friend as "poor So-and-So"; and the +curious part of it is that if one pauses to consider the why or +wherefore of such naming, one is almost sure to find that, financially +at least, "poor So-and-So" is better off than the person who is doing +the "pooring." Nor is "poor So-and-So" always sick or sorrowful, stupid +or ugly; and yet, low be it whispered, is there not always a trace of +contempt in that word "poor" when applied to an acquaintance? A very +slight trace, of course,--we lightly rub the dish with garlic, we do not +slice it into our salad. So when we call a friend "poor So-and-So," +consciously or unconsciously, there is beneath all our affection the +slight garlic touch of contemptuous pity; how else could I, right to her +merry, laughing face, have called this girl poor Semantha? + +I had at first no cause to notice her especially; she was poor, so was +I; she was in the ballet, so was I. True, I had already had heads nodded +sagely in my direction, and had heard voices solemnly murmur, "That +girl's going to do something yet," and all because I had gone on alone +and spoken a few lines loudly and clearly, and had gone off again, +without leaving the audience impressed with the idea that they had +witnessed the last agonized and dying breath of a girl killed by fright. +I had that much advantage, but we both drew the same amount of salary +per week,--five very torn and very dirty one-dollar bills. Of course +there could have been no rule nor reason for it, but it had so happened +that all the young women of the ballet--there were four--received their +salary in one-dollar bills. However, I was saying that we, the ballet, +dressed together at that time, and poor Semantha first attracted my +attention by her almost too great willingness to use my toilet soap, +instead of the common brown washing soap she had brought with her. At +some past time this soap must have been of the shape and size of a +building brick, but now it resembled a small dumb-bell, so worn was its +middle, so nobby its ends. Then, too, my pins were, to all intents and +purposes, her pins; my hair-pins her hair-pins; while worst of all, my +precious, real-for-true French rouge was _her_ rouge. + +At that point I came near speaking, because poor Semantha was not +artistic in her make-up, and she painted not only her cheeks but her +eyes, her temples, her jaws, and quite a good sample of each side of +her neck. But just as I would be about to speak, I would bethink me of +those nights when, in the interest of art, I had to be hooked up behind, +and I would hold my peace. + +On the artistic occasions alluded to, I hooked Semantha up the back, and +then Semantha hooked up my back. Ah, what a comfort was that girl; as a +hooker-up of waists she was perfection. No taking hold of the two sides +of the waist, planting the feet firmly, and taking a huge breath, as if +the Vendôme column was about to be overthrown. No hooking of two-thirds +of the hooks and eyes, and then suddenly unhooking them, remarking that +there was a little mistake at the top hook. No putting of thumbs to the +mouth to relieve the awful numbness caused by terrible effort and +pinching. Ah, no! Semantha smiled,--she generally did that,--turned you +swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, +fastened that, fluttered to the top, exactly matched the top hook to +the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift +smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your +back was a joy until the act was over. + +That was all I had known of Semantha. Probably it was all I ever should +have known had not a sharp attack of sickness kept me away from the +theatre for a time, during which absence Semantha made the discovery +which was to bring her nearer to me. + +Finding my dressing place but a barren waste of pine board, Semantha +with smiling readiness turned to the dressing place on her left for a +pin or two, and was stricken with amazement when the milder of her two +companions remarked in a grudgingly unwilling tone, "You may take a few +of my pins and hair-pins if you are sure to pay them back again." + +While she was simply stunned for a moment, when the other companion, +with that rare, straightforward brutality for which she became so +deservedly infamous later on, snorted angrily: "No, you don't! Don't you +touch anything of mine! You can't sponge on me as you do on Clara!" + +Now Semantha was a German, as we were apt to find out if ever she grew +excited over anything; and whenever she had a strange word used to her, +she would repeat that word several times, first to make sure she fully +understood its meaning, next to impress it upon her memory; so there she +stood staring at her dressing mate, and slowly, questioningly repeated, +"Spoonge? spoonge? w'at is that spoonge?" And received for answer, +"_What is_ it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," +continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; +that's what sponging is." + +Poor Semantha--astonished, insulted, frightened--turned her quivering +face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, my Fräulein +Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?" + +Then for the first time, and I honestly believe the last time in her +life, that other pretty blond, but woolly-brained, young woman rose to +the occasion--God bless her--and answered stoutly, "No, Clara never +thought you were stealing." + +So it happened that when I returned to work, and Semantha's excited and +very German welcome had been given, I noticed a change in her. When my +eyes met hers, instead of smiling instantly and broadly at me, her eyes +sank to the ground and her face flushed painfully. At last we were left +alone for a few moments. Quick as a flash, Semantha shut the door and +bolted it with the scissors. Then she faced me; but what a strange, new +Semantha it was! Her head was down, her eyes were down, her very body +seemed to droop. Never had I seen a human look so like a beaten dog. She +came quite close, both hands hanging heavily at her sides, and in a +low, hurried tone she began: "Clara, now Clara, now see, I've been usen +your soap--ach, it smells so goot!--nearly all der time!"--"Why," I +broke in, "you were welcome!" + +But she stopped me roughly with one word, "Wait," and then she went on. +"Und der pins--why, I can't no more count. Und der hair-pins, und der +paint," (her voice was rising now), "oh, der lofely soft pink paint! und +I used dem, I used 'em all. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem +all. You see, I be so green, fräulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, +I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, +und by Gott I didn't shteal!" + +I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, +"I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it." + +She looked me brightly in the eyes and answered: "You do? you _truly_ +know dat?" gave a great sigh, and added with a fervour I fear I +ill-appreciated, "Oh, I hope you vill go to heaven!" then quickly +qualified it, "dat is, dat I don't mean right avay, dis minute--only ven +you can't keep avay any longer!" + +Then she sprang to her dress hanging on the hook, and after struggling +among the roots of her pocket, found the opening, and with triumph +breathing from every feature of her face, she brought forth a small +white cube, and cried out, "Youst you look at dat!" + +I did; it seemed of a stony structure, white with a chill thin line of +pink wandering forlornly through or on it (I am sure nothing could go +through it); but the worst thing about it was the strange and evil smell +emanating from it. And this evil, white, hard thing had been purchased +from a pedler under the name of soap, fine shaving or toilet soap, and +now Semantha was delightedly offering it to me, to use every night, and +I with immense fervour promised I would use it, just as soon as my own +was gone; and I mentally registered a solemn vow that the shadow of my +soap should never grow less. + +I soon discovered that poor Semantha was very ambitious; yes, in spite +of her faint German accent and the amusing abundance of negatives in her +conversation, she was ambitious. One night we had been called on to "go +on" as peasants and sing a chorus and do a country dance, and poor +Semantha had sung so freely and danced so gracefully and gayly, that it +was a pleasure to look at her. She was such a contrast to the two +others. One had sung in a thin nasal tone, and the expression of her +face was enough to take all the dance out of one's feet. With frowning +brows and thin lips tightly compressed, she attacked the figures with +such fell determination to do them right or die, that one could hardly +help hoping she _would_ make a mistake and take the consequences. The +other,--the woolly-brained young person,--having absolutely no ear for +music or time, silently but vigorously worked her jaws through the +chorus, and affably ambled about, under everybody's feet, through the +dance, displaying all the stiff-kneed grace of a young, well-meaning +calf. + +When we were in our room, I told Semantha how well she had sung and +danced, and her face was radiant with delight. Then becoming very grave, +she said: "Oh, fräulein, how I vant to be an actor! Not a common van, +but" and she laid her hand with a childish gesture on her breast--"I +vant to be a big actor. Don' you tink I can ever be von--eh?" + +And looking into those bright, intelligent, squirrel-like eyes, I +answered, "I think it is very likely," Poor Semantha! we were to recall +those simple remarks, later on. + +Christmas being near, I was very busy working between acts upon +something intended for a present to my mother. This work was greatly +admired by all the girls; but never shall I forget the astonishment of +poor Semantha when she learned for whom it was intended. + +"Your mutter lets you love her yet--you would dare?" And as I only gazed +dumbly at her, she went on, while slow tears gathered in her eyes, "My +mutter hasn't let me love her since--since I vas big enough to be +knocked over." + +Through the talkativeness of an extra night-hand or scene-shifter, who +knew her family, I learned something of poor Semantha's private life. +Poor child! from the very first she had rested her bright brown eyes +upon the wrong side of life,--the seamy side,--and her own personal +share of the rough patchwork, composed of dismal drabs and sodden browns +and greens, had in it just one small patch of rich and brilliant +colour,--the theatre. Of the pure tints of sky and field and watery +waste and fruit and flower, she knew nothing. But what of that! had she +not secured this bit of rosy radiance, and might it not in time be added +to, until it should incarnadine the whole fabric of her life? + +Semantha's father was dead; her mother was living--worse luck. For had +she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and +reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to +support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she +lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present +rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young +tempers, a hardener of young hearts. Many a woman of quick, short temper +has a kind heart; while even the sullenly sulky woman generally has a +few rich, sweet drops of the milk of human kindness, which she is +willing to bestow upon her own immediate belongings. But Semantha's +mother was not of these. How, one might ask, had this wretch obtained +two good husbands? Yes, Semantha had a stepfather, and the only excuse +for the suicidal marriage act as performed by these two victims was that +the woman was well enough to look upon--a trim, bright-eyed, brown +creature with the mark of the beast well hidden from view. + +When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and +money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and +sullen, silent lips. When the child came home with empty hands, and gave +only cheerfully performed hard manual labour, she was received with +fierce eyes, cruel rankling words, and many a cut and heavy blow, and +was often thrust from the house itself, because 'twas known the girl was +afraid of darkness. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris before coming to Daly's Theatre in 1870_] + +Her stepfather then would secretly let her in, though sometimes she +dared go no farther than the shed, and there she would sit the whole +night through, in all the helpless agony of fright. But all this was as +nothing compared to the cruelty she had yet to meet out to poor +Semantha, whose greatest fault seemed to be her intense longing for some +one to love. Her mother _would not_ be loved, her own father had wisely +given the whole thing up, her step-father _dared_ not be loved. So, when +the second family began to materialize, Semantha's joy knew no bounds. +What a welcome she gave each newcomer! How she worked and walked and +cooed and sang and made herself an humble bond-maiden before them. And +they loved her and cried to her, and bit hard upon her needle stabbed +forefinger with their first wee, white, triumphant teeth, and for just a +little, little time poor Semantha was not poor, but very rich indeed. +And that strange creature, who had brought them all into the world, +looked on and saw the love and smiled a nasty smile; and Semantha saw +the smile, and her heart quaked, as well it might. For so soon as these +little men could stand firmly on their sturdy German legs, their gentle +mother taught them, deliberately taught them, to call their sister +names, the meaning being as naught to them, but enough to break a +sister's heart. To jeer at and disobey her, so that they became a pair +of burly little monsters, who laughed loud, affected laughter at the +word "love," and swore with many long-syllabled German oaths that they +would kick with their copper-toes any one who tried to kiss them. Ah! +when you find a fiercely violent temper allied to a stone-cold heart, +offer you up an earnest prayer to Him for the safety of the souls coming +under the dominion and the power of that woman. + +I recall one action of Semantha's that goes far, I think, to prove what +a brave and loyal heart the untaught German girl possessed. She was very +sensitive to ridicule, and when people made fun of her, though she would +laugh good-humouredly, many times she had to keep her eyes down to hide +the brimming tears. Now her stepfathers name was a funny one to American +ears, and always provoked a laugh, while her own family name was not +funny. Yet because the man had shown her a little timid kindness, she +faithfully bore his name, and through storms of jeering laughter, clear +to the dismal end, she called herself Semantha Waacker. + +Once we spoke of it, and she exclaimed in her excited way: "Yes, I am +alvays Waacker. Why not, ven he is so goot? Why, why, dat man, dat vater +Waacker, he have kissed me two time already. Vunce here" (placing her +finger on a vicious scar upon her check), "von de mutter cut me bad, und +vun odder time, ven I come very sick. Und de mutter seen him in de +glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a +little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out +de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before +everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha +Waacker." + +The unfortunate man's occupation was also something that provoked +laughter, when one first heard of it; but as Semantha herself was my +informant, and I had grown to care for her, I managed by a great effort +to keep my face serious. How deeply this fact impressed her, I was to +learn later on. + +Christmas had come, and I was in high glee. I had many gifts, simple and +inexpensive most of them, but they were perfectly satisfactory to me. My +dressing-room mates had remembered me, too, in the most characteristic +fashion. The pretty, woolly-brained girl had with smiling satisfaction +presented me with a curious structure of perforated cardboard and gilt +paper, intended to catch flies. Its fragility may be imagined from the +fact that it broke twice before I got it back into its box; still there +was, I am sure, not another girl in Cleveland who could have found for +sale a fly-trap at Christmas time. + +The straightforward one had presented me with an expensively repellent +gift in the form of a brown earthenware jug, a cross between a Mexican +idol and a pitcher. A hideous thing, calculated to frighten children or +sober drunken men. I know I should have nearly died of thirst before I +could have forced myself to swallow a drop of liquid coming from that +horrible interior. + +Semantha was nervous and silent, and the performance was well on before +she caught me alone, out in a dark passageway. Then she began as she +always did when excited, with: "Clara, now Clara, you know I told my +vater of you, for dat you were goot to me, und he say, vat he alvays +say--not'ing. Dat day I come tell you vat his work vas, I vent home und +I say, 'Vater Waacker, I told my fräulein you made your livin' in de +tombstone yard,' und he say, quvick like, 'Vell,'--you know my vater no +speak ver goot English" (Semantha's own English was weakening +fast),--"'vell, I s'pose she make some big fool laugh, den, like +everybodies, eh?' Und I say, 'No, she don't laugh! de lips curdle a +little'" (curdle was Semantha's own word for tremble or quiver. If she +shivered even with cold, she curdled with cold), "'but she don't laugh, +und she say, "It vas the best trade in de vorldt for you, 'cause it must +be satisfactions to you to work all day long on somebody's tombstone."'" + +"Oh, Semantha!" I cried, "why did you tell him that?" + +"But vy not?" asked the girl, innocently. "Und he look at me hard, und +his mouth curdle, und den he trow back his head und he laugh, pig +laughs, und stamp de feet und say over und over, 'Mein Gott! mein Gott! +satisfackshuns ter vurk on somebody's tombstones--_some_body's. Und she +don't laugh at my vurk, nieder, eh? Vell, vell! dat fräulein she tinks +sometings! Say, Semantha, don't it dat you like a Kriss-Krihgle present +to make to her, eh?' Und I say, dat very week, dere have to be new shoes +for all de kinder, und not vun penny vill be left. Und he shlap me my +back, une! say, 'Never mindt, I'll make him,' und so he did, und here +it is," thrusting some small object into my hand. "Und if you laugh, +fräulein, I tink I die, 'cause it is so mean und little." + +Then stooping her head, she pressed a kiss on my bare shoulder and +rushed headlong down the stairs, leaving me standing there in the dark +with "it" in my hand. Poor Semantha! "it" lies here now, after all these +years; but where are you, Semantha? Are you still dragging heavily +through life, or have you reached that happy shore, where hearts are +hungry never more, but filled with love divine? + +"It" is a little bit of white marble, highly polished and perfectly +carved to imitate a tiny Bible. A pretty toy it is to other eyes; but to +mine it is infinitely pathetic, and goes well with another toy in my +possession, a far older one, which cost a human life. + +Well, from that Christmas-tide Semantha was never quite herself again. +For a time she was extravagantly gay, laughing at everything or nothing. +Then she became curiously absent-minded. She would stop sometimes in the +midst of what she might be doing, and stand stock-still, with fixed +eyes, and thoughts evidently far enough away from her immediate +surroundings. Sometimes she left unfinished the remark she might be +making. Once I saw a big, hulking-looking fellow walking away from the +theatre door with her. The night was bad, too, but I noticed that she +carried her own bundle, while he slouched along with his hands in his +pocket, and I felt hurt and offended for her. + +And then one night Semantha was late, and we wondered greatly, since she +usually came very early, the theatre being the one bright spot in life +to her. We were quite dressed, and were saying how lucky it was there +was no dance to-night, or it would be spoiled, when she came in. Her +face was dreadful; even the straightforward one exclaimed in a shocked +tone, "You must be awful sick!" + +But Semantha turned her hot, dry-looking eyes upon her and answered +slowly and dully, "I'm not sick." + +"Not sick, with that white face and those poor curdling hands?" + +"I'm not sick, I'm going avay." + +Just then the act was called, and down the stairs we had to dash to take +our places. We wore pages' dresses, and as we went Semantha stood in the +doorway in her shabby street gown and followed us with wistful eyes--she +did so love a page's costume. + +When we were "off" we hastened back to our dressing room. Semantha was +still there. She moved stiffly about, packing together her few +belongings; but her manner silenced us. She had taken everything else, +when her eyes fell upon a remnant of that evil-smelling soap. She paused +a bit, then in that same slow way she said, "You never, never used that +soap after all, Clara?" and when I answered: "Oh, yes, I have. I've used +it several times," she put her hand out quickly, and took the thing, and +slipped it into her pocket, and then she stood a moment and looked +about; and if ever anguish grew in human eyes, it slowly grew in hers. +Her face was pale before; it was white now. + +At last her eyes met mine, then a sudden tremor crossed her face from +brow to chin, a piteous slow smile crept around her lips, and in that +dull and hopeless tone she said, "You see, my fräulein, I'll never be a +big actor after all," and turned her back upon me, and slowly left the +room and the theatre, without one kiss or handshake, even from me. And +I, who knew her, did not guess why. She went out of my life forever, +stepping down to that lower world of which I had only heard, but by +God's mercy did not know. + +That same sad night a group of men, close-guarded, travelled to +Columbus, that city of great prisons and asylums, and one of those +guarded men was poor Semantha's lover, alas! her convicted lover now; +and she, having cast from her her proudest hope, her high ambition, +trusting a little in his innocence, trusting entirely in his love, now +followed him steadily to the prison's very gate. + +After this came a long silence. One girl had fallen from our ranks, but +what of that? Another girl had taken her place. We were still four, +marching on,--eyes front, step firm and regular,--ready when the quick +order came quickly to obey. There could be no halt, no turning back to +the help of the figure already growing dim, of one who had fallen by the +wayside. + +After a time rumours came to us, at first faint and vague--uncertain, +then more distinct--more dreadful! And the stronger the rumours grew, +the lower were the voices with which we discussed them; since we were +young, and vice was strange to us, and we were being forced to believe +that she who had so recently been our companion was now--was--well, to +be brief, she wore her rouge in daylight now upon the public street. + +Poor, poor Semantha! They were playing "Hamlet," the night of the worst +and strongest rumour, and as I heard Ophelia assuring one of her noble +friends or relatives:-- + + "You may wear your rue with a difference," + +I could not help saying to myself that "rue" was not the only thing that +could be so treated, since we all had rouge upon our cheeks; yet +Semantha--ah, God forgive her--wore her rouge with a difference. + +A little longer and we were all in Columbus, where a portion of each +season was passed, our manager keeping his company there during the +sitting of the legislature. We had secured boarding-houses,--the memory +of mine will never die,--and in fact our round bodies were beginning to +fit themselves to the square holes they were expected to fill for the +next few weeks, when we found ourselves sneezing and coughing our way +through that spirit-crushing thing they call a "February thaw." +Rehearsal had been long, and I was tired. I had quite a distance to +walk, and my mind was full of professional woe. Here was I, a ballet +girl who had taken a cold whose proportions simply towered over that +nursed by the leading lady's self; and as I slipped and slid slushily +homeward, I asked myself angrily what a fairy was to do with a +handkerchief,--and in heaven's name, what was that fairy to do without +one. The dresses worn by fairies--theatrical, of course--in those days +would seem something like a fairy mother-hubbard now, at all events a +home toilet of some sort, so very proper were they; but even so there +was no provision made for handkerchiefs, no thought apparently that +stage fairies might have colds in their star-crowned heads. + +So as my wet skirt viciously slapped my icy ankles, I almost tearfully +declared to myself I would have to have a handkerchief, even though it +wore pinned to my wings, only who on earth could get it off in time for +me to use? Now if poor Semantha were only--and there I stopped, my eyes, +my mind, fixed upon a woman a little way ahead of me, who stood staring +in a window. Her figure drooped as though she were weary or very, very +sad, and I said to myself, "I don't know what you are looking at, but I +_do_ know it's something you want awfully," and just then she turned and +faced me. My heart gave a plunge against my side. I knew her. One +woman's glance, lightning-quick, mathematically true, and I had her +photograph--the last, the very last I ever took of poor Semantha. + +As her eyes met mine, they opened wide and bright. The rosy colour +flushed into her face, her lips smiled. She gave a little forward +movement, then before I had completed calling out her name, like a flash +she changed, her brows were knit, her lips close-pressed, and all her +face, save for the shameful red sign on her cheeks, was very white. I +stood quite still--not so, she. She walked stiffly by, till on the very +line with me she shot out one swift, sidelong glance and slightly shook +her head; yet as she passed I clearly heard that grievous sound that +coming from a woman's throat tells of a swallowed sob. + +Still I stood watching her as she moved away, regardless quite of watery +pool or deepest mud; she marched straight on and at the first corner +disappeared, but never turned her head. As she had left me first without +good-by, so she met me now without a greeting, and passed me by without +farewell. And I, who knew her, understood at last the reason why. Poor +wounded, loyal heart, who would deny herself a longed-for pleasure +rather than put the tiniest touch of shame upon so small a person as a +ballet girl whom one year ago she had so lovingly called friend. + +At last I turned to go. As I came to the window into which Semantha had +so lovingly been gazing, I looked in too, and saw a window full of fine, +thick underwear for men. + +Two crowded, busy years swept swiftly by before I heard once more, and +for the last time, of poor Semantha. I was again in Columbus for a short +time, and was boarding at the home of one of the prison wardens. +Whenever I could catch this man at home, I took pains to make him talk, +and he told me many interesting tales. They were scarcely of a nature to +be repeated to young children after they had gone to bed, that is, if +you wanted the children to stay in bed; but they were interesting, and +one day the talk was of odd names,--his own was funny,--and at last he +mentioned Semantha's. Of course I was alert, of course I questioned +him--how often I have wished I had not. For the tale he told was sad. +Nothing new, nay, it was common even; but so is "battle, murder, and +sudden death," from which, nevertheless, we pray each day to be +delivered. Ah! his tale was sad if common. + +It seemed that when Semantha followed that treacherous young brute, her +convicted lover, she had at first obtained a situation as a servant, so +she could not come to the prison every visiting day, and what was worse +in his eyes, she was most poorly paid, and had but very small sums to +spend upon extras for him. He grumbled loudly, and she was torn with +loving pity. Then quite suddenly she was stricken down with sickness, +and her precious brute had to do without her visits for a time and the +small comforts she provided for him, until one visiting day he fairly +broke down and roared with rage and grief over the absence of his +tobacco. + +The hospital sheltered Semantha as long as the rules permitted, but +when she left it she was weak and worn and homeless, and as she crept +slowly from place to place, a woman old and well-dressed spoke to her, +calling her Mamie Someone, and then apologized for her mistake. Next she +asked a question or two, and ended by telling Semantha she was the very +girl she wanted--to come with her. She could rest for a few days at her +home, and after that she should have steady employment and better pay, +and--oh! did I not tell you it was a common tale? + +But when on visiting day the child with frightened eyes told what she +had discovered about her new home, the soulless monster bade her stay +there, and every dollar made in her new accursed trade was lavished upon +him. + +By a little sickness and a great deal of fraud the wretch got himself +into the prison hospital for a time, and there my informant learned to +know the pair quite well. She not only loved him passionately, but she +had for all his faults of selfishness and general ugliness the tender +patience of a mother. And he traded upon her loving pity by pretending +he could obtain the privilege of this or immunity from that if he had +only so many dollars to give to the guard or keeper. And she, poor +loving fool, hastened a few steps farther down the road of shame to +obtain for him the money, receiving in return perhaps a rough caress or +two that brought the sunshine to her heart and joy into her eyes. + +His term of imprisonment was nearly over, and Semantha was preparing for +his coming freedom. His demands seemed unending. His hat would be +old-fashioned, and his boots and his undergarments were old, etc. Then +he wanted her to have two tickets for Bellefontaine ready, that they +might leave Columbus at once, and Semantha was excited and worried. "One +day," said the warden, "she asked to see me for a moment, and I +exclaimed at sight of her, 'What is it that's happened?' + +"Her face was fairly radiant with joy, and she shook all over. It seemed +as though she could not speak at first, and then she burst forth, 'Mr. +S----, now Mr. S----, you don't much like my poor boy, but joust tink +now how goot he is! Ach, Gott, he tells me ven all der tings are got, +und de tickets too, have I some money left I shall buy a ring, und +then,'--she clutched my arm with both her hands, and dropped her head +forward on them, as she continued in a stifled voice,--und then we go to +a minister and straight we get married.' + +"And," continued Mr. S----, "as I looked at her I caught myself wishing +she were dead, that she might escape the misery awaiting her. + +"At last the day came. Her lover and a pal of his went out together. +Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not pleased at the pal's +presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to +the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new +finery, but insisted upon going with his friend. Semantha yielded, of +course, and on the way her lover laughed and jested--asked for the +tickets, then the ring, and putting on the latter declared that he was +married to _her_ now, and would wear the ring until they saw the +'Bible-sharp,' and then she should be married to _him_; and Semantha +brightened up again and was happy. + +"They came at last to the house they sought. It was a low kind of +neighbourhood, had a deserted look, and was next door to a saloon. The +pal said there were no women in the house, and Semantha had better not +come in. The lover bade her wait, and they went in and closed the door, +and left the girl outside. There she waited such a weary time, then at +last she rang--quite timidly at first, then louder, faster, too, and a +scowling fellow from the saloon told her that the house was empty. She +rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman. Then she ceased, but +walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable +yard. She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her +heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a +good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew +Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with +yer feller and his pal?' + +"'She didn't say nary a word,' said the boy, 'she didn't say nary a +word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same +as a cat's, and I says: "Why, I seed 'em ketch the 4.30 train to +Bellefontaine! They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn't scare +a darn, they just laughed and laughed." And, Boss, something like a +tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up +to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still +as still after that doglike tremble went away. I got muddled, and at +last I says, "Semantha, hav' yer got no sponds?" She didn't seem to see +me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, "Say, Semantha! +where yer goin' to? what yer goin' ter do now?" and, Boss, she done the +toughest thing I ever seen. She jes' slowly lifted up her hands and +looked at 'em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and +then jes' as slow she turns 'em over, they were bare and empty, and the +palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves 'em a +bit, and then without raisin' up her eyes, she jes' smiles a little +slow, slow smile. + +"'And then she turned 'round and walked away without nary a word at all; +but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and +she dragged her feet along jes' like an old, old woman, what was too +tired to live. I was skeered like, and thought I'd come here and tell +you, but I looked back to watch her. 'Twas almost dark then, and when +she came to the crossin', the wind was blowin' so she could hardly +stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she +looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to +the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther' +anything there; but ther' wasn't nothin' but them dirty, low-hangin' +clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome. And then right of a suddent +she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together. +It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty +hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, "My God, it is +too much! I cannot, cannot bear it!" Then she draw'd herself up quite +tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could +carry her straight toward the river.'" + +And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor +Semantha. I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more +effectually by remarking:-- + +"Yes, she was a bright, promising, true-hearted girl; but you see she +went wrong, and the sinner has to pay both here and hereafter." + +"Don't," I hotly cried. "Don't go on! don't! Sin? sin? Don't hurl that +word at her, the embodiment of self-sacrifice! Sin? where there is no +law, there can be no sin. And who had taught her anything? She was a +heathen. So far as one person can be the cause of another person's +wrong-doing, so far was Semantha's mother the guilty cause of Semantha's +loving fall. She was a heathen. She had been taught just one law--that +she was always to serve other people. That law she truly kept unto the +end. Of that great book, the Bible, closely packed with all sustaining +promises, she knew naught. I tell you the only Bible she ever held +within her hand was that mimic one of marble her father carved for me. +She was a heathen. Of that all-enduring One--'chief among ten thousand +and altogether lovely,' for whom there was no thing too small to love, +no sin too great to pardon--she knew nothing. Even that woman who with +wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, +yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and +true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its +necessity, nor its power. + +"Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her. God +placed her; and if she fell by the wayside in ignorance, she _did not_ +fall from the knowledge of her Maker." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13277 *** diff --git a/13277-h/13277-h.htm b/13277-h/13277-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4454f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/13277-h/13277-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5127 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} + .poem span.i49 {display: block; margin-left: 49em;} + .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13277 ***</div> + +[Transcriber's note: Unfortunately high quality illustrations weren't available + for this html version.]<br /> +<br /> +<a name='Clara_Morris'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris (1883)</i>]<br /><br /> + +<!-- Page 1 --><a name='Page_1'></a> +<h1><i>STAGE CONFIDENCES</i></h1><br /> + +<h3>TALKS ABOUT PLAYERS AND PLAY ACTING</h3><br /> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CLARA MORRIS</h2> +<br /> + +<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3> + +<h3>"LIFE ON THE STAGE," +"THE PASTEBOARD CROWN," ETC.</h3> +<br /> + +<h3><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></h3> + +<h3>LONDON +CHARLES H. KELLY</h3> + +<h3>1902</h3> +<!-- Page 2 --><a name='Page_2'></a> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<br /> +<!-- Page 3 --><a name='Page_3'></a> +<h3><i>To</i></h3> +<h2><i>MARY ANDERSON</i></h2><br /> + +<h3><i>"THE FAIR</i><br /> +<i>THE CHASTE</i><br /> +<i>THE UNEXPRESSIVE SHE"</i></h3><br /> + +<br /> + +<!-- Page 4 --><a name='Page_4'></a> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='GREETING'></a><h2><!-- Page 5 --><a name='Page_5'></a><i>GREETING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p><i>To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their +confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition.</i></p> + +<p><i>Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage +over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can +answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred "tiffs" of angry +disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer +that turneth away the wrath of one.</i></p> + +<p><i>Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your +addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are +grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, +very foolish,—yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, +very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who +write to her,—no more can I, and that<!-- Page 6 --><a name='Page_6'></a> disturbs me, because I like +girls and I hate to disappoint them.</i></p> + +<p><i>But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my +friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of +warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my +assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to +laughter with the absurdities,—that are so funny in their telling, +though so painful in their happening.</i></p> + +<p><i>Clara Morris.</i></p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CONTENTS'></a><h2><!-- Page 7 --><a name='Page_7'></a><i>CONTENTS</i></h2> + + + <a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>I. A WORD OF WARNING</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>II. THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>III. IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>IV. "MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>V. THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>VI. "ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>VII. A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>VIII. THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>IX. "ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>X. J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>XI. STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>XII. THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>XIII. THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>XIV. THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>XV. SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'><b>XVI. THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'><b>XVII. A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'><b>XVIII. A BELATED WEDDING</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'><b>XIX. SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XX'><b>XX. FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'><b>XXI. STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'><b>XXII. POOR SEMANTHA</b></a><br /><br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='ILLUSTRATIONS'></a><h2><!-- Page 9 --><a name='Page_9'></a><i>ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h2> + + + + <a href='#Clara_Morris'>CLARA MORRIS (1883)</a><br /> + <a href='#Article_47'>CLARA MORRIS IN "L' ARTICLE 47"</a><br /> + <a href='#Charles_Matthews'>CHARLES MATTHEWS</a><br /> + <a href='#Alixe'>CLARA MORRIS IN "ALIXE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Miss_Multon'>CLARA MORRIS AS "MISS MULTON"</a><br /> + <a href='#Odette'>CLARA MORRIS AS "ODETTE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Mrs._Gilbert'>MRS. GILBERT, AUGUSTIN DALY, JAMES LEWIS, AND LOUIS JAMES</a><br /> + <a href='#Owens'>JOHN E. OWENS</a><br /> + <a href='#Little_breeches'>"LITTLE BREECHES"</a><br /> + <a href='#Jane_Eyre'>CLARA MORRIS AS "JANE EYRE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Sphinx'>CLARA MORRIS IN "THE SPHINX"</a><br /> + <a href='#Evadne'>CLARA MORRIS IN "EVADNE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Camille'>CLARA MORRIS AS "CAMILLE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Salvini'>TOMMASO SALVINI</a><br /> + <a href='#Le_Moyne'>W.J. LE MOYNE</a><br /> + <a href='#Clara_1870'>CLARA MORRIS BEFORE COMING TO DALY'S THEATRE IN 1870</a><br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h2><!-- Page 11 --><a name='Page_11'></a><!-- Page 10 --><a name='Page_10'></a><i>CHAPTER I +<br /><br /> +A WORD OF WARNING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Every actress of prominence receives letters from young girls and women +who wish to go on the stage, and I have my share. These letters are of +all kinds. Some are extravagant, some enthusiastic, some foolish, and a +few unutterably pathetic; but however their writers may differ +otherwise, there is one positive conviction they unconsciously share, +and there is one question they each and every one put to me: so it is +<i>that</i> question that must be first answered, and that conviction that +must be shaken.</p> + +<p>The question is, "What chance has a girl in private life of getting on +the stage?"<!-- Page 12 --><a name='Page_12'></a> and to reply at once with brutal truthfulness and straight +to the point, I must say, "Almost none."</p> + +<p>But to answer her instant "Why?" I must first shake that positive +conviction each writer has, that she is the only one that burns with the +high ambition to be an actress, who hopes and fears, and secretly +studies Juliet. It would be difficult to convince her that her own +state, her own city, yes, her own block, could each produce a girl who +firmly believes that <i>her</i> talent is equally great, and who has just the +same strength of hope for the future stage existence.</p> + +<p>Every city in the country is freely sprinkled with stage-loving, or, as +they are generally termed, "stage-struck" girls. It is more than +probable that at least a half-dozen girls in her own circle secretly +cherish a hope for a glorious career on the stage, while her bosom +friend most likely knows every line of <i>Pauline</i> and has prac<!-- Page 13 --><a name='Page_13'></a>tised the +death scene of <i>Camille</i> hundreds of times. Surely, then, the would-be +actresses can see that their own numbers constitute one of the greatest +obstacles in their path.</p> + +<p>But that is by no means all. Figures are always hard things to manage, +and there is another large body of them, between a girl and her chances, +in the number of trained actresses who are out of engagements. There is +probably no profession in the world so overcrowded as is the profession +of acting. "Why, then," the manager asks, "should I engage a girl who +does not even know how to walk across the stage, when there are so many +trained girls and women to choose from?"</p> + +<p>"But," says or thinks some girl who reads these words, "you were an +outsider, poor and without friends, yet you got your chance."</p> + +<p>Very true; I did. But conditions then were different. The stage did not +hold <!-- Page 14 --><a name='Page_14'></a>then the place in public estimation which it now does. Theatrical +people were little known and even less understood. Even the people who +did not think all actors drunkards and all actresses immoral, did think +they were a lot of flighty, silly buffoons, not to be taken seriously +for a moment. The profession, by reason of this feeling, was rather a +close corporation. The recruits were generally young relatives of the +older actors. There was plenty of room, and people began at the bottom +quite cheerfully and worked up. When a "ballet" was wanted, the manager +advertised for extra girls, and sometimes received as many as three +applicants in one day—when twenty were wanted. Such an advertisement +to-day would call out a veritable mob of eager girls and women. <i>There</i> +was my chance. To-day I should have no chance at all.</p> + +<p>The theatrical ranks were already growing crowded when the "Schools of +Acting" were started, and after that—goodness <!-- Page 15 --><a name='Page_15'></a>gracious! actors and +actresses started up as suddenly and numerously as mushrooms in an old +pasture. And they, even <i>they</i> stand in the way of the beginner.</p> + +<p>I know, then, of but three powers that can open the stage door to a girl +who comes straight from private life,—a fortune, great influence, or +superlative beauty. With a large amount of money a girl can +unquestionably tempt a manager whose business is not too good, to give +her an engagement. If influence is used, it must indeed be of a high +social order to be strong enough favourably to affect the box-office +receipts, and thus win an opening for the young débutante. As for +beauty, it must be something very remarkable that will on its strength +alone secure a girl an engagement. Mere prettiness will not do. Nearly +all American girls are pretty. It must be a radiant and compelling +beauty, and every one knows that there are not many such beauties, +stage-struck or otherwise.</p> +<!-- Page 16 --><a name='Page_16'></a> +<p>The next question is most often put by the parents or friends of the +would-be actress; and when with clasped hands and in-drawn breath they +ask about the temptations peculiar to the profession of acting, all my +share of the "old Adam" rises within me. For you see I honour the +profession in which I have served, girl and woman, so many years, and it +hurts me to have one imply that it is filled with strange and terrible +pitfalls for women. I have received the confidences of many +working-women,—some in professions, some in trades, and some in +service,—and on these confidences I have founded my belief that every +woman who works for her living must eat with her bread the bitter salt +of insult. Not even the plain girl escapes paying this penalty put upon +her unprotected state.</p> + +<p>Still, insult does not mean temptation, by any means. But careful +inquiry has shown me that temptation assails working-women in any walk +of life, and that the profession<!-- Page 17 --><a name='Page_17'></a> of acting has nothing weird or novel to +offer in the line of danger; to be quite frank, all the possibilities of +resisting or yielding lie with the young woman herself. What will tempt +one beyond her powers of resistance, will be no temptation at all to +another.</p> + +<p>However, parents wishing to frighten their daughters away from the stage +have naturally enough set up several great bugaboos collectively known +as "temptations"—individually known as the "manager," the "public," +etc.</p> + +<p>There seems to be a general belief that a manager is a sort of dramatic +"Moloch," upon whose altar is sacrificed all ambitious femininity. In +declaring that to be a mistaken idea, I do not for a moment imply that +managers are angels; for such a suggestion would beyond a doubt secure +me a quiet summer at some strictly private sanitarium; but I do mean to +say that, like the gentleman whom we all know by <!-- Page 18 --><a name='Page_18'></a>hearsay, but not by +sight, they are not so black as they are painted.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the manager is more often the pursued than the pursuer. Women +there are, attractive, well-looking, well-dressed, some of whom, alas! +in their determination to succeed, cast morality overboard, as an +aeronaut casts over ballast, that they may rise more quickly. Now while +these women bestow their adulation and delicate flattery upon the +manager, he is not likely to disturb the modest and retiring newcomer in +his company by unwelcome attentions. And should the young stranger prove +earnest and bright, she would be doubly safe; for then she would have +for the manager a commercial value, and he would be the last man to hurt +or anger her by a too warmly expressed admiration, and so drive her into +another theatre, taking all her possible future popularity and drawing +power with her.</p> + +<p>One other and better word I wish to add. If the unprotected young +beginner finds her<!-- Page 19 --><a name='Page_19'></a>self the victim of some odious creature's persistent +advances, letters, etc., let her not fret and weep and worry, but let +her go quietly to her manager and lay her trouble before him, and, my +word for it, he will find a way of freeing her from her tormentor. Yes, +the manager is, generally speaking, a kindly, cheery, sharp business +man, and no Moloch at all.</p> + +<p>As for the "public," no self-respecting girl need be in danger from the +"public." Admiring young rakes no longer have coaches waiting round the +corner, into which they thrust their favourite actress as she leaves the +theatre. If a man sends an actress extravagant letters or flowers, +anonymously, she can of course do nothing, but equally of course she +will not wear his flowers and so encourage him boldly to step up and +speak to her some day. If the gentleman sends her jewellery or valuable +gifts of any kind, rest assured his name will accompany the offering; +then the actress has but <!-- Page 20 --><a name='Page_20'></a>one thing to do, send the object back at once. +If the infatuated one is a gentleman and worthy of her notice, he will +surely find a perfectly correct and honourable way of making her +acquaintance, otherwise she is well rid of him. No, I see no danger +threatening a young actress from the "public."</p> + +<p>There is danger in drifting at any time, so it may be well to warn young +actresses against drifting into a too strong friendship. No matter how +handsome or clever a man may be, if he approaches a modest girl with +coarse familiarity, with brutalities on his lips, she is shocked, +repelled, certainly not tempted. But let us say that the young actress +feels rather strange and uncomfortable in her surroundings, that she is +only on a smiling "good morning and good evening" footing with the +company, and she has been promised a certain small part, and then at the +last moment the part is given to some one else. The disappointment is +cruel, and the suspicion that people are laughing in <!-- Page 21 --><a name='Page_21'></a>their sleeves over +the slight put upon her makes her feel sick and faint with shame, and +just then a friendly hand places a chair for her and a kind voice says: +"I'm awfully sorry you missed that chance, for I'm quite sure you would +do the part far and away better than that milliner's block will. But +don't distress yourself, your chance will come, and you will know how to +make the most of it—I am sure."</p> + +<p>And all the time the plain, perhaps the elderly man is speaking, he is +shielding her from the eyes of the other people, and from her very soul +she is grateful to him, and she holds up her head and smiles bravely.</p> + +<p>Not long after, perhaps, she does get a chance, and with joyous eyes she +watches for the coming of the man who comforted her, that she may tell +him of her good luck. And his pleasure is plain, and he assures her that +she will succeed. And he, an experienced actor, waits in the entrance to +see her play her small part, and shakes her hand <!-- Page 22 --><a name='Page_22'></a>and congratulates her +when she comes off, and even tells her what to do next time at such a +point, and her heart warms within her and is filled with gratitude for +this "sympathetic friend," who helps her and has faith in her future. +The poor child little dreams that temptation may be approaching her, +softly, quietly, in the guise of friendship. So, all unconsciously, she +grows to rely upon the advice of this quiet, unassuming man. She looks +for his praise, for his approval. By and by their companionship reaches +beyond the walls of the theatre. She respects him, admires, trusts him. +Trusts him—he may be worthy, he may not! But it would be well for the +young actresses to be on their guard against the "sympathetic friend."</p> + +<p>Since we are speaking about absolute beginners, perhaps a word of +warning may be given against <i>pretended</i> critics. The young actress +trembles at the bare words "newspaper man." She ought to know that a +critic <!-- Page 23 --><a name='Page_23'></a>on a respectable paper holds a responsible position. When he +serves a prominent and a leading journal, he is frequently recognized as +an authority, and has a social as well as a professional position to +maintain. Further, the professional woman does not strongly attract the +critic personally. There is no glamour about stage people to him; but +should he desire to make an actress's acquaintance, he would do so in +the perfectly correct manner of a gentleman. But this is not known to +the young stranger within the theatrical gates, and through her +ignorance, which is far from bliss, she may be subjected to a +humiliating and even dangerous experience. I am myself one of several +women whom I know to have been victimized in early days.</p> + +<p>The beginner, then, fearing above all things the newspaper, receives one +evening a note common in appearance, coarse in expression, requesting +her acquaintance, and signed "James Flotsam," let us say. Of <!-- Page 24 --><a name='Page_24'></a>course she +pays no attention, and two nights later a card reaches her—a very +doubtful one at that—bearing the name "James Flotsam," and in the +corner, <i>Herald</i>. She may be about to refuse to see the person, but some +one will be sure to exclaim, "For mercy's sake! don't make an enemy on +the 'press.'"</p> + +<p>And trembling at the idea of being attacked or sneered at in print, +without one thought of asking what <i>Herald</i> this unknown represents, +without remembering that Miller's Pond or Somebody-else's Corners may +have a <i>Herald</i> she hastens to grant to this probably ignorant young +lout the unchaperoned interview she would instantly refuse to a +gentleman whose name was even well known to her; and trembling with fear +and hope she will listen to his boastings "of the awful roasting he gave +Billy This or Dick That," referring thus to the most prominent actors of +the day, or to his promises of puffs for herself "when old Brown or +Smith <!-- Page 25 --><a name='Page_25'></a>are out of the office" (the managing and the city editors both +being jealous of him, and blue pencilling him just for spite); and if +Mr. Flotsam does not, without leave, bring up and present his chum, Mr. +Jetsam, the young woman will be fortunate.</p> + +<p>A little quiet thought will convince her that an editor would not assign +such a person to report the burning of a barn or the interruption of a +dog fight, and with deep mortification she will discover her mistake. +The trick is as old as it is contemptible, and many a great paper has +had its name put to the dishonourable use of frightening a young actress +into an acquaintance with a self-styled critic.</p> + +<p>Does this seem a small matter to you? Then you are mistaken. There are +few things more serious for a young woman than an unworthy or +undesirable acquaintance. She will be judged, not by her many correct +friends, but by her one incorrect one. Again, feeling fear of his power +to <!-- Page 26 --><a name='Page_26'></a>work her injury, she ceases really to be a free agent, and Heaven +knows what unwise concessions she may be flurried into; and of all the +dangers visible or invisible in the path of a good girl, the most +terrible is "opportunity." If you wish to avoid danger, if you wish to +save yourself some face-reddening memory, give no one the "opportunity" +to abuse your confidence, to wound you by word or deed. Ought I to point +out one other unpleasant possibility? Temptation may approach the +somewhat advanced young actress through money and power in the guise of +the "patron of Art"—not a common form of temptation by any means. But +what <i>has</i> been may be again, and it is none the easier to resist +because it is unusual. When a young girl, with hot impatience, feels she +is not advancing as rapidly as she should, the wealthy "patron of Art" +declares it is folly for her to plod along so slowly, that he will free +her from all trammels, he will provide play, wardrobe, com<!-- Page 27 --><a name='Page_27'></a>pany, and +show the world that she is already an artist. To her trembling objection +that she could only accept such tremendous aid from one of her own +family, he would crushingly reply that "Art" (with a very big A) should +rise above common conventionalities; that he does not think of <i>her</i> +personally, but only the advance of professional "Art"; and if she must +have it so, why-er, she may pay him back in the immediate future, though +if she were the passionate lover of "Art" he had believed her to be, she +would accept the freedom he offered and waste no thought on "ways and +means" or "hows and whys."</p> + +<p>Ah, poor child, the freedom he offers would be a more cruel bondage than +slavery itself! The sensitive, proud girl would never place herself +under such heavy obligations to any one on earth. She would keep her +vanity in check, and patiently or impatiently hold on her way,—free, +independent,—owing her final success to her own <!-- Page 28 --><a name='Page_28'></a>honest work and God's +blessing. Every girl should learn these hard words by heart, <i>Rien ne se +donne, tout se paye ici-bas!</i> "Everything is paid for in this world!"</p> + +<p>A number of young girls have asked me to give them some idea of the +duties of a beginner in the profession, or what claims the theatre makes +upon her time. Very well. We will first suppose you a young and +attractive girl. You have been carefully reared and have been protected +by all the conventionalities of refined social life. Now you enter the +theatrical profession, depending solely upon your salary for your +support, meaning to become a great actress and to keep a spotless +reputation, and you will find your work cut out for you. At the stage +door you will have to leave quite a parcel of conventional rules. In the +first place, you will have to go about <i>alone</i> at night as well as by +day. Your salary won't pay for a maid or escort of any kind. That is +very dreadful at first, but in time you will <!-- Page 29 --><a name='Page_29'></a>learn to walk swiftly, +with stony face, unseeing eyes, and ears deaf to those hyenas of the +city streets, who make life a misery to the unprotected woman. The rules +of a theatre are many and very exacting, and you must scrupulously obey +them or you will surely be forfeited a stated sum of money. There is no +gallantry in the management of a company, and these forfeits are +genuine, be you man or woman.</p> + +<p>You have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness, here you will +learn that <i>punctuality</i> is next to godliness. As you hope for fame here +and life hereafter, never be late to rehearsal. That is the theatrical +unpardonable sin! You will attend rehearsal at any hour of the day the +manager chooses to call you, but that is rarely, if ever, before 10 A.M. +Your legitimate means of attracting the attention of the management are +extreme punctuality and quick studying of your part. If you can come to +the second rehearsal perfect in your lines, you are bound <!-- Page 30 --><a name='Page_30'></a>to attract +attention. Your fellow-players will not love you for it, because they +will seem dull or lazy by comparison; but the stage manager will make a +note, and it may lead to better things.</p> + +<p>Your gowns at this stage of your existence may cause you great anguish +of mind—I do not refer to their cost, but to their selection. You will +not be allowed to say, "I will wear white or I will wear pink," because +the etiquette of the theatre gives the leading lady the first choice of +colours, and after her the lady next in importance, you wearing what is +left.</p> + +<p>In some New York theatres actresses have no word in the selection of +their gowns: they receive plates from the hand of the management, and +dress accordingly. This is enough to whiten the hair of a sensitive +woman, who feels dress should be a means of expression, an outward hint +of the character of the woman she is trying to present.</p> + +<p>Should you not be in a running play, you <!-- Page 31 --><a name='Page_31'></a>may be an understudy for one +or two of the ladies who are. You will study their parts, be rehearsed +in their "business," and will then hold yourself in readiness to take, +on an instant's notice, either of their places, in case of sickness, +accident, or ill news coming to either of them. If the parts are good +ones, you will be astonished at the perfect immunity of actresses from +all mishaps; but all the same you may never leave your house without +leaving word as to where you are going and how long you expect to stay.</p> + +<p>You may never go to another theatre without permission of your own +manager; indeed, she is a lucky "understudy" who does not have to report +at the theatre at 7 o'clock every night to see if she is needed. And it +sometimes happens that the only sickness the poor "understudy" knows of +during the whole run of the play is that sickness of deferred hope which +has come to her own heart.</p> + +<p>Not so very hard a day or night, so far <!-- Page 32 --><a name='Page_32'></a>as physical labour goes, is it? +But, oh! the sameness, the deadly monotony, of repeating the same words +to the same person at the same moment every night, sick or well, sad or +happy—the same, same words!</p> + +<p>A "one-play" company offers the worst possible chance to the beginner. +The more plays there are, the more you learn from observation, as well +as from personal effort, to make the parts you play seem as unlike one +another as possible. A day like this admits of no drives, no calls, no +"teas"; you see, then, a theatrical life is not one long picnic.</p> + +<p>If there is one among my readers to whom the dim and dingy half-light of +the theatre is dearer than the God-given radiance of the sunlight; if +the burnt-out air with its indescribable odour, seemingly composed of +several parts of cellar mould, a great many parts of dry rot or unsunned +dust, the whole veined through and through with small streaks of escaped +illuminating gas—if this <!-- Page 33 --><a name='Page_33'></a>heavy, lifeless air is more welcome to your +nostrils than could be the clover-sweetened breath of the greenest +pasture; if that great black gulf, yawning beyond the extinguished +footlights, makes your heart leap up at your throat; if without noting +the quality or length of your part the just plain, bald fact of "acting +something" thrills you with nameless joy; if the rattle-to-bang of the +ill-treated old overture dances through your blood, and the rolling up +of the curtain on the audience at night is to you as the magic +blossoming of a mighty flower—if these are the things that you feel, +your fate is sealed: Nature is imperious; and through brain, heart, and +nerve she cries to you, ACT, ACT, ACT! and act you must! Yes, I know +what I have said of the difficulties in your way, but I have faith to +believe that, if God has given you a peculiar talent, God will aid you +to find a way properly to exercise that talent. You may receive many +rebuffs, but you <!-- Page 34 --><a name='Page_34'></a>must keep on trying to get into a stock company if +possible, or, next best, to get an engagement with a star who produces +many plays. Take anything, no matter how small, to begin with. You will +learn how to walk, to stand still—a tremendous accomplishment. You will +get acquainted with your own hands, and cease to worry about them.</p> + +<p>You can train your brain by studying Shakespeare and the old comedies. +Study not merely the leading part, but all the female parts; it is not +only good training, but you never know when an opportunity may come to +you. The element of "chance" enters very largely into the theatrical +life. Above all, try to remember the lines of every female character in +the play you are acting in; it might mean a sudden rise in your position +if you could go on, at a moment's notice, and play the part of some one +suddenly taken ill.</p> + +<p>Then work, work, and above all observe.<!-- Page 35 --><a name='Page_35'></a> Never fail to watch the acting +of those about you. Get at the cause of the effects. Avoid the faults, +and profit by the good points of the actors before you, but never permit +yourself to imitate them.</p> + +<p>One suggestion I would make is to keep your eyes open for signs of +character in the real life about you. The most successful bit of +business I had in "Camille" I copied from a woman I saw in a Broadway +car. If a face impresses you, study it, try afterward to recall its +expression. Note how different people express their anger: some are +redly, noisily angry; some are white and cold in their rage. All these +things will make precious material for you to draw upon some day, when +you have a character to create; and you will not need to say, "Let me +see, Miss So-and-So would stand like this, and speak very fast, or very +slow," etc.</p> + +<p>You will do independent work, good work, and will never be quite +satisfied with it, but will eagerly try again, for great artists are so +<!-- Page 36 --><a name='Page_36'></a>constituted; and the hard life of disappointments, self-sacrifices, and +many partings, where strong, sweet friendships are formed only to be +broken by travelling orders, will all be forgotten when, the glamour of +the footlights upon you, saturated with light, thrilling to music, +intoxicated with applause, you find the audience is an instrument for +you to play upon at will. And such a moment of conscious, almost divine +power is the reward that comes to those who sacrifice many things that +they may act.</p> + +<p>So if you really are one of these, I can only say, "Act, act!" and +Heaven have you in its holy keeping.</p> + +<p>But, dear gifted woman, pause before you put your hand to the plough +that will turn your future into such strange furrows; remember, the life +of the theatre is a hard life, a homeless life; that it is a wandering +up and down the earth; a life filled full with partings, with sweet, +lost friendships; that its triumphs are brilliant but brief.<!-- Page 37 --><a name='Page_37'></a> If you do +truly love acting, simply and solely for the sake of acting, then all +will be well with you, and you will be content; but verily you will be a +marvel.</p> + +<p>For the poor girl or woman who, because she has to earn her own living, +longs to become an actress, my heart aches.</p> + +<p>You will say good-by to mother's petting; you will live in your trunk. +The time will come when that poor hotel trunk (so called to distinguish +it from the trunk that goes to the theatre, when you are travelling or +en route), with its dents and scars, will be the only friendly object to +greet you in your desolate boarding-house, with its one wizened, +unwilling gas-burner, and its outlook upon back yards and cats, or roofs +and sparrows, its sullen, hard-featured bed, its despairing carpet; for +you see, you will not have the money that might take you to the front of +the house and four burners. Rain or shine, you will have to make your +lonely, often frightened way to and from the theatre.<!-- Page 38 --><a name='Page_38'></a> At rehearsals you +will have to stand about, wearily waiting hours while others rehearse +over and over again their more important scenes; yet you may not leave +for a walk or a chat, for you do not know at what moment your scene may +be called. You will not be made much of. You will receive a "Good +morning" or "Good evening" from the company, probably nothing more. If +you are travelling, you will literally <i>live</i> in your hat and cloak. You +will breakfast in them many and many a time, you will dine in them +regularly, that you may rise at once and go to the theatre or car. You +will see no one, go nowhere.</p> + +<p>If you are in earnest, you will simply endure the first year,—endure +and study,—and all for what? That, after dressing in the corner +farthest from the looking-glass, in a dismal room you would scarcely use +for your housemaid's brooms and dusters at home, you may stand for a few +moments in the background of some scene, and watch <!-- Page 39 --><a name='Page_39'></a>the leading lady +making the hit in the foreground. Will these few, well-dressed, +well-lighted, music-thrilled moments repay you for the loss of home +love, home comfort, home stardom?</p> + +<p>To that bright, energetic girl, just home from school, overeducated, +perhaps, with nothing to do, restless,—forgive me,—vain, who wants to +go upon the stage, let me say: "Pause a moment, my dear, in your +comfortable home, and think of the unemployed actresses who are +suffering from actual want. Is there one among you, who, if you had the +chance, would care to strike the bread from the hand of one of these? +Ask God that the scales of unconscious selfishness may fall from your +eyes. Look about you and see if there is not some duty, however small, +the more irksome the better, that you may take from your mother's daily +load, some service you can render for father, brother, sister, aunt; +some daily household task, so small you may feel contemptuous of <!-- Page 40 --><a name='Page_40'></a>it, +yet some one must do it, and it may be a special thorn in that some +one's side. So surely as you force yourself to do the small things +nearest your hand, so surely will you be called upon for greater +service."</p> + +<p>And oh! my dears, my dears, a loving mother's declaration, "I don't know +what I should do without my daughter," is sweeter and more precious than +the careless applause of strangers. Try, then, to be patient; find some +occupation, if it is nothing more than the weekly putting in order of +bureau drawers for some unusually careless member of the family; and, +having a good home, thank God and your parents, and stay in it.</p> + +<p>And now, having added the insult of preaching at you to the injury of +disappointing you, I suppose you will accuse me of rank hypocrisy; but +you will be wrong, because with outstretched hands I stand and proclaim +myself your well-wisher and your friend.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h2><!-- Page 41 --><a name='Page_41'></a><i>CHAPTER II +<br /><br /> +THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>How often we hear people say, "Oh, that's only a play!" or "That could +only happen in a play!" and yet it's surprising how often actors receive +proof positive that their plays are reflecting happenings in real life.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Daly had "L'Article 47" on, at the 5th Avenue Theatre, for +instance, the key-note of the play was the insanity of the heroine. In +the second, most important act, before her madness had been openly +pro<!-- Page 42 --><a name='Page_42'></a>claimed, it had to be indicated simply by manner, tone, and gesture; +and the one action of drawing the knee up into her clasping arms, and +then swaying the body mechanically from side to side, while muttering +rapidly to herself, thrilled the audience with the conviction of her +affliction more subtly than words could have done. One night, when that +act was on, I had just begun to sway from side to side, when from the +auditorium there arose one long, <i>long</i>, agonizing wail, and that wail +was followed by the heavy falling of a woman's body from her chair into +the centre aisle.</p> + +<p>In an instant all was confusion, every one sprang to his feet; even the +musicians, who were playing some creepy, incidental music, as was the +fashion then, stopped and half rose from their places. It was a dreadful +moment! Somehow I kept a desperate hold upon my strained and startled +nerves and swayed on from side to side. Mr. Stoepel, the leader, glanced +at me. I caught <!-- Page 43 --><a name='Page_43'></a>his eye and said quick and low, "Play! play!"</p> + +<a name='Article_47'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "L'Article 47"</i>]</p> + +<p>He understood; but instead of simply resuming where he had left off, +from force of habit he first gave the leader's usual three sharp taps +upon his music desk, and then—so queer a thing is an audience—those +people, brought to their feet in an agony of terror, of fire, panic, and +sudden death by a woman's cry, now at that familiar tap, tap, tap, broke +here and there into laughter. By sixes and sevens, then by tens and +twenties, they sheepishly seated themselves, only turning their heads +with pitying looks while the ushers removed the unconscious woman.</p> + +<p>When the act was over, Mr. Daly—a man of few words on such +occasions—held my hands hard for a moment, and said, "Good girl, good +girl!" and I, pleased, deprecatingly remarked, "It was the music, sir, +that quieted them," to which he made answer, "And it was you who ordered +the music!"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 44 --><a name='Page_44'></a>Verily, no single word could be spoken on his stage without his +knowledge. Later that evening we learned that the lady who had cried out +had been brought to the theatre by friends who hoped to cheer her up +(Heaven save the mark!) and help her to forget her dreadful and recent +experience of placing her own mother in an insane asylum. Learned, too, +that her very first suspicion of that poor mother's condition had come +from finding her one morning sitting up in bed, her arms embracing her +knees, while she swayed from side to side unceasingly, muttering low and +fast all the time.</p> + +<p>Poor lady! no wonder her worn nerves gave way when all unexpectedly that +dread scene was reproduced before her, and worse still before the +staring public.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Charles Matthews, the veteran English comedian, came over to +act at Mr. Daly's. His was a graceful, polished, volatile style of +acting, and he had a high opinion of his power as a maker of fun; so +<!-- Page 45 --><a name='Page_45'></a>that he was considerably annoyed one night when he discovered that one +of his auditors would not laugh. Laugh? would not even smile at his +efforts.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matthews, who was past seventy, was nervous, excitable,—and, well, +just a wee bit <i>cranky</i>; and when the play was about half over, he came +"off," angrily talking to himself, and ran against Mr. Lewis and me, as +we were just about "going on." Instantly he exclaimed, "Look here! look +here!" taking from his vest pocket a broad English gold piece and +holding it out on his hand, then added, "And look there! look there!" +pointing out a gentleman sitting in the opposite box.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that stupid dolt over there? Well, I've toiled over him till +I sweat like a harvest hand, and laugh—he won't; smile—he won't."</p> + +<p>I remarked musingly, "He looks like a graven image"; while Lewis +suggested cheerfully, "Perhaps he is one."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 46 --><a name='Page_46'></a>No, no!" groaned the unfortunate star, "I'm afraid not! I'm—I'm +almost certain I saw him move once. But look here now, you're a deucedly +funny pair; just turn yourselves loose in this scene. I'll protect you +from Daly,—do anything you like,—and the one who makes that wooden man +laugh, wins this gold piece."</p> + +<p>It was not the gold piece that tempted us to our fall, but the hope of +succeeding where the star had failed. I seized one moment in which to +notify old man Davidge of what was going on, as he had a prominent part +in the coming scene, and then we were on the stage.</p> + +<p>The play was "The Critic," the scene a burlesque rehearsal of an +old-time melodrama. Our opportunities were great, and Heaven knows we +missed none of them. New York audiences are quick, and in less than +three minutes they knew the actors had taken the bit between their teeth +and were off on a mad race of fun. Every<!-- Page 47 --><a name='Page_47'></a>thing seemed to "go." We three +knew one another well. Each saw another's idea and caught it, with the +certainty of a boy catching a ball. The audience roared with laughter; +the carpenters and scene-shifters—against the rule of the +theatre—crowded into the entrances with answering laughter; but the man +in the box gave no sign.</p> + +<p>Worse and worse we went on. Mr. Daly, white with anger, came behind the +scene, gasping out, "Are they utterly mad?" to the little Frenchman whom +he had made prompter because he could not speak English well enough to +prompt us; who, frantically pulling his hair, cried, "Oui! oui! zey are +all mad—mad like ze dog in ze summer-time!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Daly stamped his feet and cleared his throat to attract our +attention; but, trusting to Mr. Matthews's protection, we grinned +cheerfully at him and continued on our downward path. At last we reached +the "climax," and suddenly I heard Mr. Mat<!-- Page 48 --><a name='Page_48'></a>thews say, "She's got +him—look—I think she's won!"</p> + +<p>I could not help it—I turned my head to see if the "graven image" could +really laugh. Yes, he was moving! his face wore some faint expression; +but—but he was turning slowly to the laughing audience, and the +expression on his face was one of <i>wonder!</i></p> + +<p>Matthews groaned aloud, the curtain fell, and Daly was upon us. Matthews +said the cause of the whole business was that man in the box; while Mr. +Daly angrily declared, "The man in the box could have nothing to do with +the affair, since he was <i>deaf</i> and <i>dumb</i>, and had been all his life."</p> + +<p>I remember sitting down very hard and very suddenly. I remember that +Davidge, who was an Englishman, "blasted" a good many things under his +breath; and then Mr. Matthews, exclaiming with wonder, told us he had +been playing for years in a farce where this very scene was enacted, <!-- Page 49 --><a name='Page_49'></a>the +whole play consisting in the actors' efforts to win the approbation of a +man who was a deaf mute.</p> + +<p>So once more a play was found to reflect a situation in real life.</p> + +<a name='Charles_Matthews'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Charles Matthews</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h2><!-- Page 50 --><a name='Page_50'></a><i>CHAPTER III +<br /><br /> +IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Divorce" had just settled down for its long run, when one evening I +received a letter whose weight and bulk made me wonder whether the +envelope contained a "last will and testament" or a "three-act play." On +opening it I found it perfectly correct in appearance, on excellent +paper, in the clearest handwriting, and using the most perfect +orthography and grammar: a gentleman had nevertheless gently, almost +tenderly, reproached me for using <i>the story of his life</i> for the play.</p> + +<p>He said he knew Mr. Daly's name was <!-- Page 51 --><a name='Page_51'></a>on the bills as author; but as I +was an Ohio woman, he of course understood perfectly that I had +furnished Mr. D. with <i>his</i> story for the play. He explained at great +length that he forgave me because I had not given Mr. Daly his real +name, and also remarked, in rather an aggrieved way, that <i>he</i> had two +children and only one appeared in the play. He also seemed considerably +surprised that Mr. Harkins (who played my husband) did not wear a large +red beard, as every one, he said, knew <i>he</i> had not shaved for years.</p> + +<p>My laughter made its way over the transom, and in a moment my neighbour +was at the dressing-room door, asking for something she did not need, +that she might find out the why and wherefore of the fun; and when the +red beard had started her off, another came for something she knew I +didn't own, and she too fell before the beard; while a third writhed +over the forgiveness extended to me, and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 52 --><a name='Page_52'></a>Oh, the well-educated idiot, isn't he delicious?"</p> + +<p>By and by the letter started to make a tour of the gentlemen's rooms, +and, unlike the rolling-stone that gathered no moss, it gathered +laughter as it moved.</p> + +<p>It was only Mr. Daly who astonished me by not laughing. He, instead, +seemed quite gratified that his play had so clearly reflected a real +life story.</p> + +<p>In the business world of New York there was known at that time a pair of +brothers; they were in dry-goods. The firm was new, and they were +naturally anxious to extend their trade. The buyer for a merchant in the +far Northwest had placed a small order with the brothers B., which had +proved so satisfactory that the merchant coming himself to New York the +next fall informed the brothers of his intention of dealing heavily with +them. Of course they were much pleased. They had received him warmly and +had offered him some hospitality, <!-- Page 53 --><a name='Page_53'></a>which latter he declined; but as it +was late in the day, and as he was an utter stranger to the city, he +asked if there was anything going on that would help pass an evening for +him; and the elder Mr. B. had instantly answered, Yes; that there was a +big success "on" at Daly's Theatre, right next door to the Fifth Avenue +Hotel, at which the stranger was stopping. And so with thanks and bows, +and a smiling promise to be at the store at ten o'clock the next +morning, ready for business, the brothers and the Western merchant +parted.</p> + +<p>I happened to be in the store next morning before ten, and the elder B., +who was one of my few acquaintances, was chatting to me of nothing in +particular, when I saw such an expression of surprise come into his +face, that I turned at once in the direction his glance had taken, and +saw a man plunging down the aisle toward us, like an ugly steer. He +looked a cross between a Sabbath-school superintendent and a cattle +<!-- Page 54 --><a name='Page_54'></a>dealer. He was six feet tall and very clumsy, and wore the black +broadcloth of the church and the cow-hide boots, big hat, and woollen +comforter of the cattle man; while his rage was so evident that even +organ-grinders and professional beggars fled from his presence. On he +came, stamping and shaking his head steerlike. One expected every moment +to hear him bellow. When he came up to Mr. B., it really did seem that +the man must fall in a fit. When he could speak, he burst into +vituperation and profanity. He d——d the city, its founders, and its +present occupants. He d——d Mr. B., his ancestors, his relatives near +and distant, by blood and by law; but he was exceptionally florid when +he came to tell Mr. B. how many kinds of a fool he was.</p> + +<p>When his breath was literally gone, my unfortunate friend, who had +alternately flushed and paled under the attack, said:—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dash, if you will be good enough to explain what this is all +about—"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 55 --><a name='Page_55'></a>Explain!" howled the enraged man, "explain! in the place where I come +from our jokes don't need to be explained. You ring-tail gibbering ape, +come out here on the sidewalk, and I'll explain!"</p> + +<p>Then he paused an instant, as a new thought came to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he cried, "and if I take you out there, to lick some of the +<i>fun</i> out of you, one of your constables will jump on to me! You're a +sweet, polite lot, to play jokes on strangers, and then hide behind your +constables!"</p> + +<p>Then his voice fell, his eyes narrowed, he looked an ugly customer as he +approached Mr. B., saying:—</p> + +<p>"You thought it d——d funny to send me to that play last night, on +purpose to show me you knew I had just got a divorce from my wife! And +if I have divorced her, let me tell you she's a finer woman than you +ever knew in your whole fool life! It was d——d funny, wasn't it, to +send a lonely man—a stranger—into <!-- Page 56 --><a name='Page_56'></a>a playhouse to see his own misery +acted out before him! Well, in New York that may be fun, and call for +laughter, but at my home it would call for <i>bullets</i>—and get 'em too!"</p> + +<a name='Alixe'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "Alixe".</i>]</p> + +<p>And he turned and strode out. Mr. B. had failed to mention the name of +the play when he recommended it; and the Western man, whose skin seemed +as sensitive as it was thick, thought that he was being made fun of, +when the play of "Divorce" unfolded before him.</p> + +<p>When "Alixe" was produced, there was one feature of the play that +aroused great curiosity. Mr. Daly was called upon again and again to +decide wagers, and considerable money changed hands over the question, +before people could be convinced that it was I who was carried upon the +stage, and not a waxen image of me.</p> + +<p>Many people will remember that in that heart-rending play, Alixe, the +innocent victim of others' wrong-doing, is carried on <!-- Page 57 --><a name='Page_57'></a>dead,—drowned,—and +lies for the entire act in full view of the audience. Now that was the +only play I ever saw before playing in it; and in Paris the Alixe had +been so evidently alive that the play was quite ruined.</p> + +<p>When I had that difficult scene intrusted to me, I thought long and +hard, trying to find some way to conceal my breathing. I knew I could +"make-up" my face all right—but that evident breathing. I had always +noticed that the tighter a woman laced, the higher she breathed and the +greater was the movement of her chest and bust. That gave me a hint. I +took off my corset. Still when lying down there was movement that an +opera glass would betray.</p> + +<p>Then I tried a little trick. Alixe wore white of a soft crépy material. +I had duplicate dresses made, only one was very loose in the waist. Then +I had a great big circular cloak of the same white material, quite +unlined; and when I was made up for the <!-- Page 58 --><a name='Page_58'></a>death scene, with lilies and +grasses in hand and hair, I stood upon a chair and held a corner of the +great soft cloak against my breast, while my maid carefully wound the +rest of it loosely about my body, round and round, right down to my +ankles, and fastened it there; result: a long, white-robed figure, +without one trace of waist line or bust, and beneath ample room for +natural breathing, without even the tremor of a fold to betray it.</p> + +<p>At once the question rose, was it a wax figure or was it not? One +gentleman came to Mr. Daly and asked him for the artist's address, +saying the likeness to Miss Morris was so perfect it might be herself, +and he wanted to get a wax model of his wife. Nor would he be convinced +until Mr. Daly finally brought him back to the stage, and he saw me +unpin my close drapery, and trot off to my dressing-room.</p> + +<p>The play was a great success, and often the reading of the suicide's +letter was punc<!-- Page 59 --><a name='Page_59'></a>tuated by actual sobs from the audience, instead of +those from the mother. Young club-men used to make a point of going to +the "Saturday Funeral," as they called the "Alixe" matinee. They would +gather afterward, opposite to the theatre, and make fun of the women's +faces as they came forth with tear-streaked cheeks, red noses, and +swollen eyes, and making frantic efforts to slip powder-puffs under +their veils and repair damages. If glances could have killed, there +would have been mourning in earnest in the houses of the club-men.</p> + +<p>One evening, as the audience was nearly out and the lights were being +extinguished in the auditorium, a young man came back and said to an +usher:—</p> + +<p>"There is a gentleman up there in the balcony; you'd better see to him, +before the lights are all put out."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman? what's he doing there, at this time, I'd like to know?" +grumbled the usher as he climbed up the stairs.<!-- Page 60 --><a name='Page_60'></a> But next moment he was +calling for help, for there in a front seat, fallen forward, with his +head on the balcony rail, sat an old man whose silvery white hair +reflected the faint light that fell upon it. They carried him to the +office; and after stimulants had been administered he recovered and +apologized for the trouble he had caused. As he seemed weak and shaken, +Mr. Daly thought one of the young men ought to see him safely home, but +he said:—</p> + +<p>"No, he was only in New York on business—he was at a hotel but a few +steps away, and—and—" he hesitated. "You are thinking I had no right +to go to a theatre alone," he added, "but I am not a sick +man—only—only to-night I received an awful shock."</p> + +<p>He paused. Mr. Daly noted the quiver of his firm old lips. He dismissed +the usher; then he turned courteously to the old gentleman and said:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 61 --><a name='Page_61'></a>As it was in my theatre you received that shock, will you explain it +to me?"</p> + +<p>And in a low voice the stranger told him that he had had a daughter, an +only child, a little blond, laughing thing, whom he worshipped. She was +a mere child when she fell in love. Her choice had not pleased him, and +looking upon the matter as a fancy merely, he had forbidden further +intercourse between the lovers. "And—and it was in the summer, +and—dear God, when that yellow-haired girl was carried dead upon the +stage to-night, even the grass clutched between her fingers, it was a +repetition of what occurred in my country home, sir, three years ago."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Daly gave his arm to the old stranger, and in dead silence they +walked to the hotel and parted.</p> + +<p>Once more the play had reflected real life.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h2><!-- Page 62 --><a name='Page_62'></a><i>CHAPTER IV +<br /><br /> +"MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Mr. Palmer had produced "Miss Multon" at the Union Square, and we were +fast settling down to our steady, regular gait, having got over the +false starts and breaks and nervous shyings of the opening performance, +when another missive of portentous bulk reached me.</p> + +<p>It was one of those letters in which you can find everything except an +end; and the writer was one of those men whose subjects, like an +unhealthy hair, always <!-- Page 63 --><a name='Page_63'></a>split at the end, making at least two subjects +out of one.</p> + +<p>For instance, he started to show me the resemblance between his life and +the story of the play; but when he came to mention his wife, the hair +split, and instead of continuing, he branched off, to tell me she was +the step-daughter of "So-and-so," that her own father, who was +"Somebody," had died of "something," and had been buried "somewhere"; +and then that hair split, and he proceeded to expatiate on the two +fathers' qualities, and state their different business occupations, +after which, out of breath, and far, far from the original subject, he +had to hark back two and a half pages and tackle his life again.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, it was rather pathetic reading when he kept to the point, +for love for his wife cropped out plainly between the lines after years +of separation. Suddenly he began to adorn me with a variety of fine +qualities. He assured me that I had <!-- Page 64 --><a name='Page_64'></a>penetration, clear judgment, and a +sense of justice, as well as a warm heart.</p> + +<p>I was staggering under these piled-up traits, when he completely floored +me, so to speak, by asking me to take his case under consideration, +assuring me he would act upon my advice. If I thought he had been too +severe in his conduct toward his wife, to say so, and he would seek her +out, and humble himself before her, and ask her to return to him.</p> + +<p>He also asked me whether, as a woman, I thought she would be influenced +wholly by the welfare of her children, or whether she would be likely to +retain a trace of affection for himself.</p> + +<p>That letter was an outrage. The idea of appealing to me, who had not had +the experience of a single divorce to rely upon! Even my one husband was +so recent an acquisition as to be still considered a novelty. And yet I, +all unacquainted with divorce proceedings, legal separations, and +<!-- Page 65 --><a name='Page_65'></a>common law ceremonies, was called upon to make this strange man's +troubles my own, to sort out his domestic woes, and say:—</p> + +<p>"This sin" is yours, but "that sin" is hers, and "those other sins" +belong wholly to the co-respondent.</p> + +<p>What a useful word that is! It has such a decent sound, almost +respectable. We are a refined people, even in our sins, and I know no +word in the English language we strive harder to avoid using in any of +its forms than that word of brutal vulgarity, but terrific +meaning—adultery.</p> + +<p>The adulterer may be in our midst, but we have refinement enough to +refer to him as the "So-and-So's" co-respondent.</p> + +<p>I was engaged in saying things more earnest and warm than correct and +polished—things I fear the writer of the letter could not have approved +of—when I was pulled up short by the opening words of another +paragraph, which said: "God! if <!-- Page 66 --><a name='Page_66'></a>women suffer in real life over the loss +of children, husband, and home, as you suffered before my very eyes last +night in the play; if my wife is tortured like that, it would have been +better for me to have passed out of life, and have left her in peace. +But I did not know that women suffered so. Help me, advise me."</p> + +<p>I could not ignore that last appeal. What my answer was you will not +care to know; but if it was brief, it was at least not flippant; and +before writing it, I, in my turn, appealed for help, only my appeal was +made upon my knees to the Great Authority.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On election nights it is customary for the manager to read or have read +to the audience the returns as fast as they come in from various points, +showing how the voting has gone.</p> + +<a name='Miss_Multon'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris and James Parselle in 3d Act of "Miss +Multon"</i>]</p> + +<p>An election was just over, when one evening a small incident occurred +during a performance of "Miss Multon" that we would <!-- Page 67 --><a name='Page_67'></a>gladly have +dispensed with. In the quarrel scene between the two women, the first +and supposedly dead wife, in her character of governess to her own +children, is goaded by the second wife into such a passion that she +finally throws off all concealment and declares her true character and +name.</p> + +<p>The scene was a strong one, and was always looked forward to eagerly by +the audience.</p> + +<p>On the evening I speak of the house was packed almost to suffocation. +The other characters in the play had withdrawn, and for the first time +the two women were alone together. Both keyed up almost to the breaking +point, we faced each other, and there was a dead, I might almost say a +<i>deadly</i> pause before either spoke.</p> + +<p>It was very effective—that silence before the storm. People would lean +forward and fairly hold their breath, feeling there was a death struggle +coming. And just at that very moment of tensest feeling, as we two +<!-- Page 68 --><a name='Page_68'></a>women silently measured each other, a man's voice clearly and +exultantly declared:—</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>now</i>, we'll get the returns read, I reckon."</p> + +<p>In one instant the whole house was in a roar of laughter. Under cover of +the noise I said to my companion, who was showing her annoyance, "Keep +still! keep still!"</p> + +<p>And as we stood there like statues, utterly ignoring the interruption, +there was a sudden outbreak of hissing, and the laughter stopped as +suddenly as it had burst out, and our scene went on, receiving even more +than its usual meed of applause. But when the curtain had fallen, I had +my own laugh; for <i>it was</i> funny, very funny.</p> + +<p>In Boston there was an interruption of a different nature. It was at a +matinee performance. There were tear-wet faces everywhere you looked. +The last act was on. I was slipping to my knees in my vain entreaty to +be allowed to see my children as their <!-- Page 69 --><a name='Page_69'></a>mother, not merely as their +dying governess, when a tall, slim, black-robed woman rose up in the +parquet. She flung out her arms in a superb gesture, and in a voice of +piercing anguish cried:—</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, let her have her children! I've lived through such +loss, but she can't; it will kill her!"</p> + +<p>Tears sprang to the eyes of every one on the stage, and there was a +perceptible halt in the movement of the play. And when, at the death +scene, a lady was carried out in a faint, we were none of us surprised +to hear it was <i>she</i> who had so far forgotten where she was as to make +that passionate plea for a woman whose suffering was probably but a +faint reflection of her own.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h2><!-- Page 70 --><a name='Page_70'></a><i>CHAPTER V +<br /><br /> +THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>One night at the Union Square Theatre, when the "New Magdalen" was +running, we became aware of the presence of a distinguished visitor—a +certain actress from abroad.</p> + +<p>As I looked at the beautiful woman, magnificently dressed and jewelled, +I found it simply impossible to believe the stories I had heard of her +frightful poverty, in the days of her lowly youth.</p> + +<p>Her manner was listless, her expression bored; even the conversation +which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while +her applause was so <!-- Page 71 --><a name='Page_71'></a>plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss +being a courtesy at all.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful +five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister +is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear, +lest her <i>ennui</i> should find some unpleasant outward expression. +However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could.</p> + +<p>As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my +lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was +almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her +face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn.</p> + +<p>I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:—</p> + +<p>"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation."</p> + +<p>Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of <!-- Page 72 --><a name='Page_72'></a>her chair, and she lifted +herself upright. I went on:—</p> + +<p>"I was alone—the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak +closely about her.) "The night was coming on—and—and—I +begged—<i>openly</i>—LOUDLY—as only a hungry child can beg."</p> + +<p>She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the +perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at +her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour.</p> + +<p>The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I +responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch +of roses.</p> + +<p>A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when +with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she +said:—</p> + +<p>"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite +please me."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand," I answered.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 73 --><a name='Page_73'></a>She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a +sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it +amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own +childhood."</p> + +<p>At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't—please don't—"</p> + +<p>I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she +understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look +shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly +toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the +opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was the play reflecting +real life.</p> + +<p>But surely I have given instances enough in illustration of my original +claim that the most dramatic scenes in plays are generally the mere +reflections of happenings in real life; while the recognition of such +scenes often causes a serious interruption to the <!-- Page 74 --><a name='Page_74'></a>play, though goodness +knows there are plenty of interruptions from other causes.</p> + +<p>One that comes often to my mind occurred at Daly's. He once tried to +keep the theatre open in the summer-time—that was a failure. Two or +three plays were tried, then he abandoned the scheme. But while "No +Name" was on, Mr. Parks was cast for a part he was utterly unsuited for. +He stamped and stammered out his indignation and objection, but he was +not listened to, so on he went.</p> + +<p>During the play he was found seated at a table; and he not answering a +question put to him, his housekeeper knelt at his side, lifted his hand, +and let it fall, heavily, then in awed tones exclaimed, "He is dead!"</p> + +<p>Now there is no use denying that, clever actor as he was, he was very, +<i>very</i> bad in that part; and on the third night, when the housekeeper +let his hand fall and said, "He is dead!" in clear and hearty response +from the gallery came the surprising words, "Thank God!"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 75 --><a name='Page_75'></a>The laughter that followed was not only long-continued, but it broke +out again and again. As one young woman earnestly remarked next day: +"You see he so perfectly expressed all our feelings. We were all as +thankful as the man in the gallery, but we didn't like to say so."</p> + +<p>Parks, however, was equal to the occasion. He gravely suggested that Mr. +Daly would do well to engage that chap, as he was the only person who +had made a hit in the play.</p> + +<p>Parks was, by the way, very droll in his remarks about theatrical +matters. One day Mr. Daly concluded he would "cut" one of the acts we +were rehearsing, and it happened that Parks's part, which was already +short, suffered severely. He, of course, said nothing, but a little +later he introduced a bit of business which was very funny, but really +did not suit the scene. Mr. Daly noticed it, and promptly cut that out +too. Then was Parks wroth indeed.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 76 --><a name='Page_76'></a>After rehearsal, he and Mr. Lewis were walking silently homeward, when +they came upon an Italian street musician. The man ground at his movable +piano, the wife held the tambourine, while his leggy little daughter +danced with surprising grace on the stone walk. As she trotted about +gathering her harvest of pennies, Parks put his hand on her shoulder and +said solemnly:—</p> + +<p>"You ought to be devilish glad you're not in Daly's company; he'd cut +that dance out if you were."</p> + +<p>One evening in New Orleans, when we were playing "Camille," a coloured +girl, who had served me as dressing-maid, came to see me, and I gave her +a "pass," that she might see from the "front" the play she had so often +dressed me for. She went to the gallery and found herself next to a +young black man, who had brought his sweetheart to see her first play.</p> + +<p>The girl was greatly impressed and easily moved, and at the fourth act, +when Armand <!-- Page 77 --><a name='Page_77'></a>hurled the money at me, striking me in the face, she turned +to her young man, saying savagely, "You, Dave, you got ter lay for dat +white man ter night, an' lick der life outen him."</p> + +<p>Next moment I had fallen at Armand's feet. The curtain was down and the +girl was excitedly declaring, I was dead! while Dave assured her over +and over again, "No, honey, she carn't be dead yit, 'cause, don' yer +see, der's anudder act, an' she just nacherly's got ter be in it."</p> + +<p>When, however, the last act was on, it was Dave himself who did the +business. The pathetic death scene was almost over, when applause broke +from the upper part of the house. Instantly a mighty and unmistakable +negro voice, said: "Hush—hush! She's climin' der golden stair dis time, +shure—keep still!"</p> + +<p>My devoted "Nannine" leaned over me to hide my laughing face from the +audience, who quickly recovered from the interruption, <!-- Page 78 --><a name='Page_78'></a>while for once +Camille, the heart-broken, died with a laugh in her throat.</p> + +<p>In the same city I had, one matinee, to come down three steps on to the +stage. I was quite gorgeous in one of my best gowns; for one likes to +dress for Southern girls, they are so candidly pleased with your pretty +things. My skirt caught on a nail at the very top step, so that when I +reached the stage my train was stretched out full length, and in the +effort a scene-hand made to free it, it turned over, so that the +rose-pink lining could be plainly seen, when an awed voice exclaimed, +"For de Lor's sake, dat woman's silk lin'd clear frou!" and the +performance began in a gale of laughter.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h2><!-- Page 79 --><a name='Page_79'></a><i>CHAPTER VI +<br /><br /> +"ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>An odd and somewhat touching little incident occurred one evening when +we were in the far Northwest. There was a blizzard on just then, and the +cold was something terrible. I had a severe attack of throat trouble, +and my doctor had been with me most of the day. His little boy, hearing +him speak of me, was seized with a desire to go to the theatre, and +coaxed so well that his father promised to take him.</p> + +<p>The play was "Odette." The doctor and <!-- Page 80 --><a name='Page_80'></a>his pretty little son sat in the +end seats of the parquet circle, close to the stage and almost facing +the whole house. The little fellow watched his first play closely. As +the comedy bit went on, he smiled up at his father, saying audibly, "I +like her—don't you, papa?"</p> + +<p>Papa silenced him, while a few people who had overheard smiled over the +child's unconsciousness of observers. But when I had changed my dress +and crept into the darkened room in a <i>robe de chambre</i>; when the +husband had discovered my wrong-doing and was driving me out of his +house, a child's cry of protest came from the audience. At the same +moment, the husband raised his hand to strike. I repelled him with a +gesture and went staggering off the stage; while that indignant little +voice cried, "Papa! papa! can't you have that man arrested?" and the +curtain fell.</p> + +<p>One of the actors ran to the peep-hole in the curtain, and saw the +doctor leading out <!-- Page 81 --><a name='Page_81'></a>the little man, who was then crying bitterly, the +audience smiling and applauding him, one might say affectionately.</p> + +<p>A bit later the doctor came to my dressing-room to apologize and to tell +me the rest of it. When the curtain had fallen, the child had begged: +"Take me out—take me out!" and the doctor, thinking he might be ill, +rose and led him out. No sooner had they reached the door, however, than +he pulled his hand away, crying: "Quick, papa! quick! you go round the +block that way, and I'll run round this way, and we'll be sure to find +that poor lady that's out in the cold—just in her nighty!"</p> + +<p>In vain he tried to explain, the child only grew more wildly excited; +and finally the doctor promised, if the child would come home at once, +only two blocks away, he would return and look for the lady—in the +nighty. And he had taken the little fellow home and had seen him fling +himself into his mother's arms, and with tears and sobs <!-- Page 82 --><a name='Page_82'></a>tell her of the +"poor lady whose husband had driven her right out into the blizzard, +don't you think, mamma, and only her nighty on; and, mamma, she hadn't +done one single bad thing—not one!"</p> + +<p>Poor, warm-hearted, innocent little man; he was assured later on that +the lady had been found and taken to a hotel; and I hope his next play +was better suited to his tender years.</p> + +<p>In Philadelphia we had a very ludicrous interruption during the last act +of "Man and Wife." The play was as popular as the Wilkie Collins' story +from which it had been taken, and therefore the house was crowded.</p> + +<a name='Odette'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris as "Odette"</i>]</p> + +<p>I was lying on the bed in the darkened room, in that profound and +swift-coming sleep known, alas! only to the stage hero or heroine. The +paper on the wall began to move noiselessly aside, and in the opening +thus disclosed at the head of the bed, lamp-illumined, appeared the +murderous faces of Delamain and Hesther Detheridge.<!-- Page 83 --><a name='Page_83'></a> As the latter +raised the wet, suffocating napkin that was to be placed over my face, a +short, fat man in the balcony started to his feet, and broke the creepy +silence with the shout:—</p> + +<p>"Mein Gott in Himmel! vill dey murder her alreaty?"</p> + +<p>Some one tried to pull him down into his seat, but he struck the hand +away, crying loudly, "Stob it! stob it, I say!" And while the people +rocked back and forth with laughter, an usher led the excited German +out, declaring all the way that "A blay vas a blay, but somedings might +be dangerous even in a blay! unt dat ting vat he saw should be stobbed +alreaty!" Meantime I had quite a little rest on my bed before quiet +could be restored and the play proceed.</p> + +<p>I have often wondered if any audience in the world can be as quick to +see a point as is the New York audience. During my first season in this +city there was a play <!-- Page 84 --><a name='Page_84'></a>on at Mr. Daly's that I was not in, but I was +looking on at it.</p> + +<p>In one scene there stood a handsome bronze bust on a tall pedestal. From +a careless glance I took it to be an Ariadne. At the changing of the +scene the pedestal received a blow that toppled it over, and the +beautiful "bronze" bust broke into a hundred pieces of white plaster.</p> + +<p>The laughter that followed was simply caused by the discovery of a stage +trick. The next character coming upon the stage was played by Miss +Newton, in private life known as Mrs. Charles Backus, wife of the then +famous minstrel. No sooner did she appear upon the stage, not even +speaking one line, than the laugh broke forth again, swelled, and grew, +until the entire audience joined in one great roar. I expected to see +the lady embarrassed, distressed; but not she! After her first startled +glance at the house, she looked at the pedestal, and then she, too, +laughed, when the audi<!-- Page 85 --><a name='Page_85'></a>ence gave a hearty round of applause, which she +acknowledged.</p> + +<p>A scene-hand, noticing my amazed face, said, "You don't see it, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "did you know who that bust was?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I replied, "I think it was Ariadne."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" he said, "it was a bust of Bacchus; then, when Mrs. Backus +appeared—"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I interrupted. "They all said to themselves: 'Poor Backus is +broken all up! Backus has busted!'"</p> + +<p>And that was why they laughed; and she saw it and laughed with them, and +they saw <i>that</i> and applauded her. Well, that's a quick-witted +audience—an opinion I still retain.</p> + +<p>People are fond of saying, "A woman can't keep a secret." Well, perhaps +she doesn't keep her secrets forever; but here's how two women kept a +secret for a good <!-- Page 86 --><a name='Page_86'></a>many years, and betrayed it through a scene in a +play.</p> + +<p>Mr. Daly's treasurer had given tickets to some friends for a performance +of "Divorce." They were ladies—mother and daughter. At first greatly +pleased, the elder lady soon began to grow nervous, then tearful as the +play went on; and her daughter, watching her closely, was about to +propose their retirement, when the mother, with clasped hands and +tear-blurred eyes, seeing the stealing of my little son by the order of +his father, thrilled the audience and terrified her daughter by flinging +up her arms and crying wildly: "Don't do it! for God's sake, don't do +it! You don't know what agony it means!" and fell fainting against the +frightened girl beside her.</p> + +<p>Great confusion followed; the ushers, assisted by those seated near, +removed the unconscious woman to Mr. Daly's private office; but so +greatly had her words affected the people, that when the men on the +stage <!-- Page 87 --><a name='Page_87'></a>escaped through the window with the child in their arms, the +curtain fell to a volley of hisses.</p> + +<p>In the office, as smelling salts, water, and fresh air were brought into +requisition, in answer to a question of Mr. Daly's, the treasurer was +saying, "She is Mrs. W——, a widow," when a faint voice interrupted, +"No—no; I'm no widow!"</p> + +<p>The treasurer smiled pityingly, and continued, "I have known her +intimately for twelve years, sir; she is the widow of—"</p> + +<p>"No—no!" came the now sobbing voice. "No—no! Oh, Daisy, dear, tell +him! tell him!"</p> + +<p>And the young girl, very white, and trembling visibly, said: "I hope you +will forgive us, Mr. W——, but from causeless jealousy my father +deserted mother, and—and he stole my little brother, mamma's only son! +We have never heard of either of them since. Widowhood seemed a sort of +protection to poor mamma, and she has hid<!-- Page 88 --><a name='Page_88'></a>den behind its veil for +sixteen years. She meant no harm. She would have told you before—"</p> + +<p>She turned crimson and stopped, but that burning blush told its story +plainly; and Mr. Daly busied himself over the pouring of a glass of wine +for the robbed mother, while the treasurer in low tones assured Daisy +there was nothing to forgive, and gratefully accepted the permission +granted him to see the poor things safely home.</p> + +<p>Sixteen years' silence is not so bad for a sex who can't keep a secret!</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h2><!-- Page 89 --><a name='Page_89'></a><i>CHAPTER VII +<br /><br /> +A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was before I came to New York that I one night saw a really fine +performance almost ruined by a single interruption. It was a domestic +tragedy of English rural life, and one act began with a tableau copied +exactly from a popular painting called "Waiting for the Verdict," which +was also the title of the play.</p> + +<p>The scene gave an exterior view of the building within which the husband +and father was being tried for his life on a charge of murder. The +trembling old grandsire leaned heavily on his staff; the devoted wife +sat wearily by the closed iron gate, with a babe <!-- Page 90 --><a name='Page_90'></a>on her breast, tired +but vigilant; a faithful dog stretched himself at her feet, while his +shaggy shoulders pillowed the head of the sleeping child, who was the +accused man's darling.</p> + +<p>The curtain rose on this picture, which was always heartily greeted, and +often, so well it told its pathetic story, a second and a third round of +applause greeted it before the dialogue began. The manager's little +daughter, who did the sleeping child, contracted a cold and was advised +not to venture out of the house for a fortnight, so a substitute had to +be found, and a fine lot of trouble the stage-manager had. He declared +half the children of Columbus had been through his sieve; and there was +the trouble—they all went through, there was no one left to act as +substitute. But at last he found two promising little girls, sisters +they were, and very poor; but the mother vowed her children must be in +bed at nine, theatre or no theatre; yes, she <!-- Page 91 --><a name='Page_91'></a>would like to have the +money, but she'd do without it rather than have a child out of bed at +all hours. At first she held out for nine o'clock, but at last yielded +the additional half-hour; and to the great disappointment of the younger +child, the elder one was accepted, for the odd reason that she looked so +much younger than her sister.</p> + +<p>The company had come from Cleveland, and there were the usual slight +delays attendant on a first night; but the house was "good"; the star +(Mr. Buchanan) was making a fine impression, and the play was evidently +a "go." The big picture was looked forward to eagerly, and when it was +arranged, we had to admit that the pale, pinched little face of the +strange child was more effective as it rested on the dog's shoulder than +had been the plump, smiling face of the manager's little one. The +curtain went up, the applause followed; those behind the scenes crowded +to the "wings" to look on; no one noted that the hands of the clock +stood at<!-- Page 92 --><a name='Page_92'></a> 9.40; no one heard through the second burst of applause the +slam of the stage door behind the very, very small person who entered, +and silently peering this way and that, found her stern, avenging way to +the stage, and that too-favoured sister basking in the sunlight of +public approval.</p> + +<p>The grandsire had just lifted his head and was about to deliver his +beautiful speech of trust and hope, when he was stricken helpless by the +entrance upon the stage of a boldly advancing small person of most +amazing appearance. Her thin little legs emerged from the shortest of +skirts, while her small body was well pinned up in a great blanket +shawl, the point of which trailed fully a quarter of a yard on the floor +behind her. She wore a woman's hood on her head, and from its cavernous +depth, where there gleamed a pale, malignant small face, a voice +issued—the far-reaching voice of a child—that triumphantly +commanded:—</p> + +<p>"You, Mary Ann, yu're ter get up out of <!-- Page 93 --><a name='Page_93'></a>that an' com' home straight +away—an' yu're ter go ter bed, too,—mother says so!" and the small +Nemesis turned on her heel and trailed off the stage, followed by +laughter that seemed fairly to shake the building. Nor was that all. No +sooner had Mary Ann grasped the full meaning of this dread message than +she turned over on her face, and scrambling up by all fours, she eluded +the restraining hands of the actress-mother and made a hasty exit to +perfect shrieks of laughter and storms of applause; while the climax was +only reached when the dog, trained to lie still so long as the pressure +of the child's head was upon his shoulder, finding himself free, rose, +shook himself violently, and trotted off, waving his tail pleasantly as +he went.</p> + +<p>That finished it; the curtain had to fall, a short overture was played, +and the curtain rose again without the complete tableau, and the action +of the play was resumed; but several times the laughter was renewed. It +<!-- Page 94 --><a name='Page_94'></a>was only necessary for some person to titter over the ludicrous +recollection, and instantly the house was laughing with that person. The +next night the manager's child, swathed in flannel, with a mouth full of +cough-drops, held the well-trained dog in his place until the proper +moment for him to rise, and the play went on its way rejoicing.</p> + +<p>And just to show how long-lasting is the association of ideas, I will +state that years, many years afterward, I met a gentleman who had been +in the auditorium that night, and he told me he had never since seen a +blanket shawl, whether in store for sale or on some broad back, that he +had not instantly laughed outright, always seeing poor Mary Ann's +obedient exit after that vengeful small sister with her trailing shawl.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 95 --><a name='Page_95'></a><i>CHAPTER VIII +<br /><br /> +THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was in "Camille," one Friday night, in Baltimore, that for the only +time in my life I wished to wipe an animal out of existence. I love +four-footed creatures with extravagant devotion, not merely the finely +bred and beautiful ones, but the poor, the sick, the halt, the maimed, +the half-breeds or the no breeds at all; and almost all animals quickly +make friends with me, divining my love for them. But on this one +night—well! it was this way. In the last act, as Camille, I had +staggered from the window <!-- Page 96 --><a name='Page_96'></a>to the bureau and was nearing that dread +moment when in the looking-glass I was to see the reflection of my +wrecked and ruined self. The house was giving strained attention, +watching dim-eyed the piteous, weak movements of the dying woman; and +right there I heard that (——h!) quick indrawing of the breath startled +womanhood always indulges in before either a scream or a laugh. My heart +gave a plunge, and I thought: What is it? Oh, what is wrong? and I +glanced down at myself anxiously, for really I wore so very little in +that scene that if anything should slip off—gracious! I did not know +but what, in the interest of public propriety, the law might interfere. +But that one swift glance told me that the few garments I had assumed in +the dressing-room still faithfully clung to me. But alas! there was the +dreaded titter, and it was unmistakably growing. What was it about? They +could only laugh at me, for there was no one else on the stage. Was +there not, indeed! In an <!-- Page 97 --><a name='Page_97'></a>agony of humiliation I turned half about and +found myself facing an absolutely monstrous cat. Starlike he held the +very centre of the stage, his two great topaz eyes were fixed roundly +and unflinchingly upon my face. On his body and torn ears he carried the +marks of many battles. His brindled tail stood straightly and +aggressively in the air, and twitched with short, quick twitches, at its +very tip, truly as burly an old buccaneer as I ever saw.</p> + +<p>No wonder they giggled! But how to save the approaching death scene from +total ruin? All was done in a mere moment or two; but several plans were +made and rejected during these few moments. Naturally my first thought, +and the correct one, was to call back "Nannine," my faithful maid, and +tell her to remove the cat. But alas! my Nannine was an unusually +dull-witted girl, and she would never be able to do a thing she had not +rehearsed. My next impulse was to pick up the creature and carry <!-- Page 98 --><a name='Page_98'></a>it off +myself; but I was playing a dying girl, and the people had just seen me, +after only three steps, reel helplessly into a chair; and this cat might +easily weigh twelve pounds or more; and then at last my plan was formed. +I had been clinging all the time to the bureau for support, now I +slipped to my knees and with a prayer in my heart that this fierce old +Thomas might not decline my acquaintance, I held out my hand, and in a +faint voice, called "Puss—Puss—Puss! come here, Puss!"</p> + +<p>It was an awful moment: if he refused to come, if he turned tail and +ran, all was over; the audience would roar.</p> + +<p>"Puss—Puss!" I pleaded. Thomas looked hard at me, hesitated, stretched +out his neck, and working his whiskers nervously, sniffed at my hand.</p> + +<p>"Puss—Puss!" I gasped out once more, and lo! he gave a little "meow," +and walking over to me, arched his back amicably, and rubbed his dingy +old body against my <!-- Page 99 --><a name='Page_99'></a>knee. In a moment my arms were about him, my cheek +on his wicked old head, and the applause that broke forth from the +audience was as balm of Gilead to my distress and mortification. Then I +called for Nannine, and when she came on, I said to her, "Take him +downstairs, Nannine, he grows too heavy a pet for me these days," and +she lifted and carried Sir Thomas from the stage, and so I got out of +the scrape without sacrificing my character as a sick woman.</p> + +<p>My manager, Mr. John P. Smith, who was a wag, and who would willingly +give up his dinner, which he loved, for a joke, which he loved better, +was the next day questioned about this incident. One gentleman, a music +dealer, said to him: "Mr. Smith, I wish you to settle a question for me. +My wife and I are at variance. We saw 'Camille' last night, and my wife, +who has seen it several times in New York, insisted that that beautiful +little cat-scene belongs to the play <!-- Page 100 --><a name='Page_100'></a>and is always done; while I am +sure I never saw it before, and several of my customers agree with me, +one lady declaring it to have been an accident. Will you kindly set us +right?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," heartily replied Mr. Smith; "your wife is quite right, the +cat scene is always done. It is a great favourite with Miss Morris, and +she hauls that cat all over the country with her, ugly as he is, just +because he's such a good actor."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h2><!-- Page 101 --><a name='Page_101'></a><i>CHAPTER IX +<br /><br /> +"ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>During the run of "Alixe," at Daly's Theatre, I had suffered from a +sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs, and before I was well the +doctor was simply horrified to learn that Mr. Daly had commanded me to +play at the Saturday performance, saying that if the work made me worse, +the doctor would have all day Sunday to treat me in. He really seemed to +think that using a carriage did away with all possible danger in passing +from a warm room, through icy streets, to a draughty theatre. But +certain lesions that I carry about with me are proofs of his error. +However, I dared not risk losing my engagement, so I obeyed. My chest, +<!-- Page 102 --><a name='Page_102'></a>which had been blistered and poulticed during my illness, was +excruciatingly tender and very sensitive to cold; and the doctor, +desiring to heal, and at the same time to protect it from chill, to my +unspeakable mortification anointed me lavishly with goose grease and +swathed me in flannel and cotton wadding.</p> + +<p>That I had no shape left to me was bad enough; but to be a moving +abomination was worse, and of all vile, offensive, and vulgar odours +commend me to that of goose grease. With cheeks wet from tears of sheer +weakness, I reached the theatre resolved to keep as silent as the grave +on the subject of my flamboyant armour of grease and flannel. But the +first faint muttering of the coming storm reached me even in my +dressing-room, when the theatre maid (I had none of my own yet) entered, +and frowningly snapped out: "I'd like to know what's the matter with +this room? It never smelled like this before. Just as soon as you go +out, Miss<!-- Page 103 --><a name='Page_103'></a> Morris, I'll hunt it over and see what the trouble is."</p> + +<p>I had been pale, but at that speech one might have lighted matches at my +scarlet face. While in the entrance I had to be wrapped up in a great +big shawl, through which the odour could not quite penetrate, so no one +suspected me when making kindly inquiries about my health; but when it +was thrown off, and in my thin white gown I went on the stage—oh!</p> + +<p>In the charming little love scene, as Henri and I sat close, oh, very +close together, on the garden seat, and I had to look up at him with +wide-eyed admiration, I saw him turn his face aside, wrinkling up his +nose, and heard him whisper: "What an infernal smell! What is it?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head in seeming ignorance and wondered what was ahead—if +this was the beginning. It was a harrowing experience; by the time the +second act was on, the whole company was aroused. They were like an +<!-- Page 104 --><a name='Page_104'></a>angry swarm of bees. Miss Dietz kept her handkerchief openly to her +pretty nose; Miss Morant, in stately dudgeon, demanded that Mr. Daly +should be sent for, that he might learn the condition of his theatre, +and the dangers his people were subjected to in breathing such poisoned +air; while right in the very middle of our best scene, Mr. Louis James, +the incorrigible, stopped to whisper, "Can't we move further over and +get out of this confounded stench?"</p> + +<p>In that act I had to spend much of my time at the piano, with the result +that when the curtain fell, the people excitedly declared that awful +smell was worst right there, and I had the misery of seeing the prompter +carefully looking into the piano and applying his long, sharp nose to +its upright interior.</p> + +<p>There had been a moment in that act when I thought James Lewis suspected +me. I had just taken my seat opposite him at the chess table, when he +gave a little jerk at his chair, exclaiming under his breath, "Blast +that smell—there it is again!"</p> + +<a name='Mrs._Gilbert'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Mrs. Gilbert, Augustin Daly, James Lewis, Louis James</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 105 --><a name='Page_105'></a>I remained silent, and there I was wrong; for Lewis, knowing me well, +knew my habit of extravagant speech, and instantly his blue pop eyes +were upon my miserable face, with suspicion sticking straight out of +them. With trembling hand I made my move at chess, saying, "Queen to +Queens rook four," and he added in aside, "Seems to me you're mighty +quiet about this scent; I hope you ain't going to tell me you can't +smell it?"</p> + +<p>But the assurance that "I did—oh, I did, indeed! smell a most +outrageous odour," came so swiftly, so convincingly from my lips, that +his suspicions were lulled to rest.</p> + +<p>The last act came, and—and—well, as I said, it was the last act. White +and rigid and lily-strewn, they bore me on the stage,—Louis James at +the shoulders and George Clarke at the feet. Their heads were bent over +me. James was nearest to the storm centre. Suddenly he gasped, then as +we reached the centre of the stage Clarke gave vent to "phew!" They +gently laid me on <!-- Page 106 --><a name='Page_106'></a>the sofa, but through the sobs of the audience and of +the characters I heard from James the unfinished, half-doubting +sentence, "Well, I believe in my soul it's—" But the mother (Miss +Morant) approached me then, took my hand, touched my brow, called for +help, for a physician; then with the wild cry, "She is dead! she is +dead!" flung herself down beside the sofa with her head upon my +goose-grease breast. Scarcely had she touched me, however, when with a +gasping snort of disgust she sprang back, exclaiming violently, "It's +you, you wretch! it's <i>you</i>!" and then under cover of other people's +speeches, I being dead and helpless, Clarke stood at my head and James +at my feet and reviled me, calling me divers unseemly names and mocking +at me, while references were made every now and then to chloride of lime +and such like disinfectants.</p> + +<p>They would probably have made life a burden for me ever after, had I not +after the performance lifted tearful eyes to them and <!-- Page 107 --><a name='Page_107'></a>said, "I am so +sorry for your discomfort, but you can go out and get fresh air; but, +boys, just think of me, I can't get away from myself and my goose-grease +smell a single moment, and it's perfectly awful!"</p> + +<p>"You bet it is!" they all answered, as with one voice, and they were +merciful to me, which did not prevent them from sending the prompter +(who did not know of the discovery) with a lantern to search back of the +scenes for the cause of the offensive odour. Perhaps I may add that +goose grease does not figure in my list of "household remedies."</p> + +<p>But the next week I was able, in a measure at least, to heal their +wounded feelings. Actresses used to receive a good many little gifts +from admirers in the audience. They generally took the form of flowers +or candy, but sometimes there came instead a book, a piece of music, or +an ornament for the dressing-table; but Alixe's altar could boast an +entirely new votive offering. I received a let<!-- Page 108 --><a name='Page_108'></a>ter and a box. The letter +was an outburst of admiration for Alixe, the "lily maid the tender, the +poetical," etc. The writer then went on to tell me how she had yearned +to express to me her feelings; how she had consulted her husband on the +matter, and how he had said certainly to write if she wished, and send +some little offering, which seemed appropriate, and "therefore she sent +<i>this</i>"; and with visions of a copy of Keats or Shelley or a +lace-trimmed pin-cushion, I opened the box and found the biggest mince +pie I ever saw.</p> + +<p>Certainly the lady's idea of an appropriate gift was open to criticism, +but not so her pie. That was rich perfection. Its fruity, spicy interior +was evenly warmed with an evident old French brandy,—no savagely +burning cooking brandy, mind,—and when the flaky marvel had stood upon +the heater for a time, even before its cutting up with a paper-knife, +the odour of goose grease was lost in the "Araby the Blest" scent of +mince meat.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h2><!-- Page 109 --><a name='Page_109'></a><i>CHAPTER X +<br /><br /> +J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>The late John E. Owens, while acting in Cincinnati, had a severe cold. +He was feverish, and fearing for his throat, which was apt to give him +trouble, he had his physician, an old friend, come to see him back of +the scenes. The doctor brought with him an acquaintance, and Mr. Owens +asked them to wait till the next act was over to see how his throat was +going to behave.</p> + +<p>It's always a dangerous thing to turn out<!-- Page 110 --><a name='Page_110'></a>siders loose behind the +scenes; for if they don't fall into traps, or step into paint pots, they +are sure to pop on to the stage.</p> + +<p>Mr. Owens supposed the gentlemen would stop quietly in his room, but not +they. Out they wandered on discovery intent. A well-painted scene caught +the doctor's eye. He led his friend up to it, to take a better look; +then as only part of it was visible from where they stood, they followed +it along.</p> + +<p>Mr. Owens and I were on the stage. Suddenly his eyes distended. "What in +the devil?" he whispered. I looked behind me, and at the same moment the +audience burst into shouts of laughter; for right into the centre of the +stage had walked, with backs toward the audience, two tall gentlemen, +each with a shining bald head, each tightly buttoned in a long black +overcoat, and each gesticulating with a heavy cane.</p> + +<p>I whispered to Mr. Owens, "The two Dromios"; but he snapped out, "Two +blind old bats."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 111 --><a name='Page_111'></a>When they heard the roar behind them, they turned their heads, and then +a funnier, wilder exit I never saw than was made by these two dignified +old gentlemen; while Owens added to the laughter by taking me by the +hand, and when we had assumed their exact attitude, singing "Two +wandering boys from Switzerland."</p> + +<p>I am reminded that the first performance I ever saw in my life had one +of the most grotesque interruptions imaginable. At a sort of country +hotel much frequented by driving parties and sleighing parties, a +company of players were "strapped,"—to use the theatrical term, +stranded,—unable either to pay their bills or to move on. There was a +ballroom in the house, and the proprietor allowed them to erect a +temporary stage there and give a performance, the guests in the house +promising to attend in a body.</p> + +<p>One of the plays was an old French farce, known to English audiences as +"The Hole in the Wall." The principal comedy <!-- Page 112 --><a name='Page_112'></a>part was a clerk to two +old misers, who starved him outrageously.</p> + +<p>I was a little, stiffly starched person, and I remember that I sat on +some one's silk lap, and slipped and slipped, and was hitched up and +immediately slipped again until I wished I might fall off and be done +with it. Near me sat a little old maiden lady, who had come in from her +village shop to see "the show." She wore two small, sausage curls either +side of her wrinkled cheeks, large glasses, a broad lace collar, while +three members of her departed family gathered together in one fell group +on a mighty pin upon her tired chest. She held a small bag on her knee, +and from it she now and then slid a bit of cake which, as she nibbled +it, gave off a strong odour of caraway seed.</p> + +<a name='Owens'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>John E. Owens</i>]</p> + +<p>Now the actor was clever in his "make-up," and each time he appeared he +looked thinner than he had in the scene before. Instead of laughing, +however, the old woman took it seriously, and she had to wipe her +glasses <!-- Page 113 --><a name='Page_113'></a>with her carefully folded handkerchief several times before +that last scene, when she was quite overcome.</p> + +<p>His catch phrase had been, "Oh! oh! how hungry I am!" and every time he +said it, she gave a little involuntary groan; but as he staggered on at +the last, thin as a bit of thread paper, hollow-cheeked, white-faced, +she indignantly exclaimed, "Well now, <i>that's</i> a shame!"</p> + +<p>The people laughed aloud; the comedian fixed his eyes upon her face, and +with hands pressed against his stomach groaned, "O-h! how hungry I am!" +and then she opened that bag and drew forth two long, twisted, fried +cakes, rose, stood on her tip-toes, and reaching them up to him +tearfully remarked:—</p> + +<p>"Here, you poor soul, take these. They are awful dry; but it's all I've +got with me."</p> + +<p>The audience fairly screamed; but poor and stranded as that company was, +the come<!-- Page 114 --><a name='Page_114'></a>dian was an artist, for he accepted the fried cakes, ate them +ravenously to the last crumb, and so kept well within the character he +was playing, without hurting the feelings of the kind-hearted, little +old woman.</p> + +<p>It's pleasant to know that that clever bit of acting attracted the +attention and gained the interest of a well-to-do gentleman, who was +present, and who next day helped the actors on their way to the city.</p> + +<p>A certain foreign actor once smilingly told me "I was a crank about my +American public." I took his little gibe in good part; for while he knew +foreign audiences, he certainly did <i>not</i> know American ones as well as +I, who have faced them from ocean to ocean, from British Columbia to +Florida. Two characteristics they all share in common,—intelligence and +fairness,—otherwise they vary as widely, have as many marked +peculiarities, as would so many individuals. New York and Boston are +<i>the</i> authorities <!-- Page 115 --><a name='Page_115'></a>this side of "the Great Divide," while San Francisco +sits in judgment by the blue Pacific.</p> + +<p>One never-to-be-forgotten night I went to a fashionable theatre in New +York City to see a certain English actress make her début before an +American audience, which at that time was considered quite an +interesting event, since there were but one or two of her countrywomen +over here then. The house was very full; the people were of the +brightest and the "smartest." I sat in a stage box and noted their +eagerness, their smiling interest.</p> + +<p>The curtain was up, there was a little dialogue, and then the stage door +opened. I dimly saw the actress spreading out her train ready to "come +on," the cue was given, a figure in pale blue and white appeared in the +doorway, stood for one single, flashing instant, then lurched forward, +and with a crash she measured her full length upon the floor.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 116 --><a name='Page_116'></a>The shocked "O-h-h" that escaped the audience might have come from one +pair of lips, so perfect was its spontaneity, and then dead and perfect +silence fell.</p> + +<p>The actress lay near but one single piece of furniture (she was alone in +the scene, unfortunately), and that was one of those frail, useless, +gilded trifles known as reception chairs. She reached out her hand, and +lifting herself by that, had almost reached her knee, when the chair +tipped under her weight, and they both fell together.</p> + +<p>It was awful. A deep groan burst from the people in the parquet. I saw +many women hide their eyes; men, with hands already raised to applaud, +kept the attitude rigidly, while their tight-pressed lips and frowning +brows showed an agony of sympathy. Then suddenly an arm was thrust +through the doorway; I knew it for the head carpenter's. Though in a +shirt sleeve, it was bare to the elbow, and not over clean, but strong +as a bough of living oak. She <!-- Page 117 --><a name='Page_117'></a>seized upon it and lifting herself, with +scarlet face and neck and breast, she stood once more upon her feet. And +then the storm broke loose; peal on peal of thunderous applause shook +the house. But four times in my life have I risked throwing flowers +myself; but that night mine were the first roses that fell at her feet. +She seemed dazed; quite distinctly I heard her say "off" to some one in +the entrance, "But what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>At last she came forward. She was plump almost to stoutness, but she +moved most gracefully. Her bow was greeted with long-continued applause. +Sympathy, courtesy, encouragement, welcome—all were expressed in that +general and enthusiastic outburst.</p> + +<p>"Why," said she after all was over, "at home they would have hissed me, +had that happened there."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed one who heard, "never; they could not be so cruel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered, "<i>afterward</i><!-- Page 118 --><a name='Page_118'></a> they might have applauded, but +not at first. Surely they would have hissed me."</p> + +<p>And with these words ringing in my ears, no wonder that, figuratively +speaking, I knelt at the feet of a New York audience and proudly kissed +its hand.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h2><!-- Page 119 --><a name='Page_119'></a><i>CHAPTER XI +<br /><br /> +STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the play of "Miss Multon" a number of children are required for the +first act. They are fortunately supposed to be the children of the poor, +and they come to a Christmas party. As I had that play in my +<i>repertoire</i> for several years, I naturally came in contact with a great +number of little people, and that's just what they generally were, +little men and women, with here and there at long intervals a <i>real</i> +child.</p> + +<p>They were of all kinds and qualities,—some well-to-do, some very poor, +some gentle and well-mannered, some wild as steers, some <!-- Page 120 --><a name='Page_120'></a>brazen-faced +and pushing, some sweet and shy and modest. I had one little child—a +mere tot—take hold of the ribbon with which I tied my cape and ask me +how much it was a yard; she also inquired about the quality of the +narrow lace edge on my handkerchief, and being convinced that it was +real, sharply told me to look out "it didn't get stoled." One little +girl came every night, as I sat waiting for my cue, to rub her fingers +up and down over the velvet collar of my cape. Touching the soft +yielding surface seemed to give her exquisite pleasure, and I caught the +same child standing behind me when I wore the rich red dress, holding +her hands up to it, as to a fire, for warmth. Poor little soul! she had +sensibility and imagination both.</p> + +<p>The play requires that one child should be very small; and as it was no +unusual thing for the little one to get frightened behind the scenes, I +used to come to the rescue, and as I found a question about "Mamma" won +<!-- Page 121 --><a name='Page_121'></a>their attention the quickest, I fell into the habit of saying, first +thing: "Where's mamma? Is she here? Show me, where." And having once won +attention, it had gone hard with me indeed had I failed to make friends +with the youngster.</p> + +<p>One Monday evening as I came to my place, I saw the new baby standing +all forlorn, with apparently no one at all to look after her, not even +one of the larger children. She was evidently on the very verge of +frightened tears, and from old habit I stooped down and said to her, +"Where's mamma, dear?"</p> + +<p>She lifted two startled blue eyes to my face and her lips began to +tremble. I went on, "Is mamma here?" The whole little face drew up in a +distressed pucker, and with gasps she whispered, "She's in er box."</p> + +<p>I raised my head and glanced across the stage. An old gentleman sat in +the box opposite, and I knew a merry young party had the one on our own +side, so I answered:<!-- Page 122 --><a name='Page_122'></a> "Oh, no, dear, mamma's not in the box; she's—" +when the poor baby cried, "Yes, she is, my mamma's in a box!" and buried +her curly head in the folds of my skirt and burst into sobs.</p> + +<p>At that moment a hard-voiced, hard-faced, self-sufficient girl pushed +forward, and explained in a patronizing way: "Oh, she's too little to +say it right. She ain't got no mother; she's dead, and it's the coffin +Annie means by the box."</p> + +<p>Oh, poor baby, left behind! poor little scrap of humanity!</p> + +<p>In another city the child was older, nearly five, but so very small that +she did nicely in the tiny trousers (it is a boy's part, as I should +have said before), and when the act was over, I kissed the brightly +pretty face and offered her a little gift. She put out her hand eagerly, +then swiftly drew it back again, saying, "It's money."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "It's for you, take it."</p> + +<a name='Little_breeches'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>"Little Breeches"</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 123 --><a name='Page_123'></a>She hung her head and murmured, "It's money, I dar'sent."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Cause we're too poor," she replied, which was certainly the oddest +reason I ever heard advanced for not accepting offered money. I was +compelled to hurry to my dressing-room to prepare for the next act; but +I saw with what disappointed eyes she followed me, and as I kept +thinking of her and her queer answer I told my maid to go out and see if +the pretty, very clean little girl was still there, and, if so, to send +her to my room. Presently a faint tap, low down on the door, told me my +expected visitor had arrived. Wide-eyed and smiling she entered, and +having some cough drops on my dressing-table, I did the honours. Cough +drops of strength and potency they were, too, but sweet, and therefore +acceptable to a small girl. She looked at them in her wistful way, and +then very prettily asked, "Please might she eat one right then?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 124 --><a name='Page_124'></a>I consented to that seemingly grave breach of etiquette, and then asked +if her mother was with her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Sam had brought her." (Sam was the gas man.)</p> + +<p>"Why," I went on, "did you not take that money, dear?" (her eyes +instantly became regretful). "Don't you want it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, ma'am," she eagerly answered. "Yes, ma'am, I want it, thank +you; but you see I might get smacked again—like I did last week."</p> + +<p>Our conversation at this embarrassing point was interrupted by the +appearance of Sam, who came for the little one. I sent her out with a +message for the maid, and then questioned Sam, who, red and apologetic, +explained that "the child had never seen no theatre before; but he knew +that the fifty cents would be a godsend to them all, and an honest +earned fifty cents, too, and he hoped the kid hadn't given me no +trouble," and he beamed when I said she was charming and so +well-mannered.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 125 --><a name='Page_125'></a>Yes," he reckoned, "they aimed to bring her up right. Yer see," he +went on, "her father's my pal, and he married the girl that—a +girl—well, the best kind of a girl yer can think of" (poor Sam), "and +they both worked hard and was gettin' along fine, until sickness come, +and then he lost his job, and it's plumb four months now that he's been +idle; and that girl, the wife, was thin as a rail, and they would die +all together in a heap before they'd let any one help 'em except with +work."</p> + +<p>"What," I asked, "did the child mean by getting a smacking last week?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," he answered, "the kid gets pretty hungry, I suppose, and t'other +day when she was playin' with the Jones child, there in the same house, +Mrs. Jones asks her to come in and have some dinner; and as she lifted +one of the covers from the cooking-stove, the kid says: 'My, you must be +awful rich, you make a fire at both ends of your stove at once. My mamma +only makes a fire <!-- Page 126 --><a name='Page_126'></a>under just one hole, 'cause we don't have anything +much to cook now 'cept tea.' The speech reached the mother's ears, and +she smacked the child for lettin' on to any one how poor they are. Lord, +no, Miss, she dar'sent take no money, though God knows they need it bad +enough."</p> + +<p>With dim eyes I hurriedly scribbled a line on a bit of wrapping paper, +saying:—"This little girl has played her part so nicely that I want her +to have something to remember the occasion by, and since I shall not be +in the city to-morrow, and cannot select anything myself, I must ask you +to act for me." Then I folded it about a green note, and calling back +the child, I turned her about and pinned both written message and money +to the back of her apron. The little creature understood the whole thing +in a flash. She danced about joyously: "Oh, Sam," she cried, "the lady's +gived me a present, and I can't help myself, can I?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 127 --><a name='Page_127'></a>And Sam wiped his hand on his breeches leg, and, clearing his throat +hard, asked "if I'd mind shakin' hands?"</p> + +<p>And I didn't mind it a bit. Then, with clumsy care, he wrapped the child +in her thin bit of a cape, and led her back to that home which gave +lodgement to both poverty and pride.</p> + +<p>While the play was new, in the very first engagement outside of New +York, I had a very little child for that scene. She was flaxen blond, +and her mother had dressed her in bright sky-blue, which was in itself +an odd colour for a little boy to wear. Then the small breeches were so +evidently mother-made, the tiny bits of legs surmounted with such an +enormous breadth of seat, the wee Dutch-looking blue jacket, and the +queer blue cap on top of the flaxen curls, gave the little creature the +appearance of a Dutch doll. The first sight of her, or, perhaps, I +should say "him," the first sight of him provoked a ripple of merriment; +but when <!-- Page 128 --><a name='Page_128'></a>he turned full about on his bits of legs and toddled up stage, +giving a full, perfect view of those trousers to a keenly observant +public, people laughed the tears into their eyes. And this baby noted +the laughter, and resented it with a thrust-out lip and a frowning knit +of his level brows that was funnier than even his blue clothing—and +after that one Parthian glance at the audience, he invariably toddled to +me, and hid his face in my dress. From the very first night the child +was called "Little Breeches," and to this day I know her by no other +name.</p> + +<p>Time passed by fast—so fast; years came, years went. "Miss Multon" had +been lying by for a number of seasons. "Renée de Moray," "Odette," +"Raymonde," etc., had been in use; then some one asked for "Miss +Multon," and she rose obediently from her trunk, took her manuscript +from the shelf, and presented herself at command. One evening, in a +Southern California city, as I left my room ready for the first act of +this <!-- Page 129 --><a name='Page_129'></a>play, the door-man told me a young woman had coaxed so hard to see +me, for just one moment, that ignoring orders he had come to ask me if +he might bring her in; she was not begging for anything, just a moment's +interview. Rather wearily I gave permission, and in a few moments I saw +him directing her toward me. A very slender, very young bit of a woman, +a mere girl, in fact, though she held in her arms a small white bundle. +As she came smilingly up to me, I perceived that she was very blond. I +bowed and said "Good evening" to her, but she kept looking in smiling +silence at me for a moment or two, then said eagerly, "Don't you know +me, Miss Morris?"</p> + +<p>I looked hard at her. "No," I said; "and if I have met you before, it's +strange, for while I cannot remember names, my memory for faces is +remarkable."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, in deep disappointment, "can't you remember me at +all—not at all?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 130 --><a name='Page_130'></a>Her face fell, she pushed out her nether lip, she knit her level, +flaxen brows.</p> + +<p>I leaned forward suddenly and touched her hand, saying, "You are +not—you can't be—my little—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," she answered delightedly. "I am Little Breeches."</p> + +<p>"And this?" I asked, touching the white bundle.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, "this is <i>my</i> Little Breeches; but I shan't dress him +in bright blue."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how old are you, and how old am I?"</p> + +<p>"Well," she replied, "I'm almost eighteen, and as you look just exactly +as you did when I saw you last, it doesn't matter, so far as I can see, +how many years have passed." (Oh, clever Little Breeches!)</p> + +<p>Then, having had Little Breeches 2d kissed and honestly admired, she +trotted away satisfied; and only as I made my entrance on the stage did +it occur to me that I had not asked her name; so she ends as she began, +simply Little Breeches.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h2><!-- Page 131 --><a name='Page_131'></a><i>CHAPTER XII +<br /><br /> +THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>In looking over my letters from the gentle "Unknown," I find that the +question, "What advantage has the stage over other occupations for +women?" is asked by a Mrs. Some One more often than by the more +impulsive and less thoughtful girl writer, and it is put with frequency +and earnestness.</p> + +<p>Of course there is nothing authoritative in these answers of mine, +nothing absolute. They are simply the opinion of one woman, founded upon +personal experience and obser<!-- Page 132 --><a name='Page_132'></a>vation. We must, of course, to begin +with, eliminate the glamour of the stage—that strange, false lustre, as +powerful as it is intangible—and consider acting as a practical +occupation, like any other. And then I find that in trying to answer the +question asked, I am compelled, after all, to turn to a memory.</p> + +<p>I had been on the stage two years when one day I met a schoolmate. Her +father had died, and she, too, was working; but she was bitterly envious +of my occupation. I earnestly explained the demands stage wardrobe made +upon the extra pay I drew; that in actual fact she had more money for +herself than I had. Again I explained that rehearsals, study, and +preparation of costumes required time almost equal to her working hours, +with the night work besides; but she would not be convinced.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you see," she cried, "I am at service, that means I'm a +dependant, I labour for another. You serve, yes, but you <!-- Page 133 --><a name='Page_133'></a>labour for +yourself," and lo! she had placed her stubby little finger upon the sore +spot in the working-woman's very heart, when she had divined that in the +independence of an actress lay her great advantage over other workers.</p> + +<p>Of course this independence is not absolute; but then how many men there +are already silver-haired at desk or bench or counter who are still +under the authority of an employer! Like these men, the actress's +independence is comparative; but measured by the bondage of other +working-women, it is very great. We both have duties to perform for +which we receive a given wage, yet there is a difference. The +working-girl is expected to be subservient, she is too often regarded as +a menial, she is ordered. An actress, even of small characters, is +considered a necessary part of the whole. She assists, she attends, she +obliges. Truly a difference.</p> + +<p>Again, women shrink with passionate re<!-- Page 134 --><a name='Page_134'></a>pugnance from receiving orders +from another woman; witness the rarity of the American domestic. A pity? +Yes; but what else can you expect? The Americans are a dominant race. +Free education has made all classes too nearly equal for one woman to +bend her neck willingly and accept the yoke of servitude offered by +another woman.</p> + +<p>And even this is spared to the actress, since her directions are more +often received from the stage manager or manager than from a woman star. +True, her life is hard, she has no home comforts; but, then, she has no +heavy duties to perform, no housework, bed-making, sweeping, +dish-washing, or clothes-washing, and when her work is done, she is her +own mistress. She goes and comes at her own will; she has time for +self-improvement, but best of all she has something to look forward to. +That is a great advantage over girls of other occupations, who have such +a small chance of advancement.</p> + +<p>Some impetuous young reader who speaks <!-- Page 135 --><a name='Page_135'></a>first and thinks afterward may +cry out that I am not doing justice to the profession of acting, even +that I discredit it in thus comparing it with humble and somewhat +mechanical vocations; so before I go farther, little enthusiasts, let me +remind you of the wording of this present query. It does not ask what +advantage has acting over other professions, over other arts, but "What +advantage has it over other occupations for women?"</p> + +<p>A very sweeping inquiry, you see; hence this necessary comparison with +shop, factory, and office work. As to the other professions, taking, for +instance, law or medicine, preparations for practice must be very +costly. A girl puts her family to a great strain to pay her college +expenses, or if some family friend advances funds, when she finally +passes all the dreaded examinations, and has the legal right to hang out +her shingle, she starts in the race of life handicapped with crushing +debts.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 136 --><a name='Page_136'></a>The theatre is, I think, the only place where a salary is paid to +students during all the time they are learning their profession; surely +a great, a wonderful advantage over other professions to be +self-sustaining from the first.</p> + +<p>Then the arts, but ah! life is short and art, dear Lord, art is long, +almost unto eternity. And she who serves it needs help, much help, and +then must wait, long and wearily, for the world's response and +recognition, that, even if they come, are apt to be somewhat uncertain, +unless they can be cut on a marble tomb; then they are quite positive +and hearty. But in the art of acting the response and recognition come +swift as lightning, sweet as nectar, while you are young enough to enjoy +and to make still greater efforts to improve and advance.</p> + +<p>So it seems to me the great advantage of acting over work is one's +independence, one's opportunity to improve oneself. Its advantage over +the professions is that it is self-<!-- Page 137 --><a name='Page_137'></a>sustaining from the start. Its +advantage over the arts is its swift reward for earnest endeavour.</p> + +<p>It must be very hard to endure the contempt so often bestowed upon the +woman who simply serves. I had a little taste of it once myself; and +though it was given me by accident, and apologies and laughter followed, +I remember quite well that even that tiny taste was distinctly +unpleasant—yes, and bitter. I was abroad with some very intimate +friends, and Mrs. P——, an invalid, owing to a mishap, was for some +days without a maid. We arrived in Paris hours behind time, late at +night, and went straight to our reserved rooms, seeing no one but some +sleepy servants.</p> + +<p>Early next morning, going to my friends' apartments, I came upon this +piteous sight: Mrs. P——, who had a head of curly hair, was not only +without a maid, but also without the use of her right arm. The fame of +Charcot had brought her to Paris. Unless she break<!-- Page 138 --><a name='Page_138'></a>fasted alone, which +she hated, her hair must be arranged. Behold, then, the emergency for +which her husband, Colonel P——, had, boldly not to say recklessly, +offered his services.</p> + +<p>I can see them now. She, with clenched teeth of physical suffering and +uplifted eye of the forgiving martyr, sat in combing jacket before him; +and he, with the maid's white apron girt tight about him just beneath +his armpits, had on his soldierly face an expression of desperate +resolve that suggested the leading of a forlorn hope. A row of hair-pins +protruded sharply from between his tightly closed lips; a tortoise-shell +back-comb, dangling from one side of his full beard where he placed it +for safety, made this amateur hairdresser a disturbing sight both for +gods and men.</p> + +<p>With legs well braced and far apart, his arms high lifted like outspread +wings, he wielded the comb after the manner of a man raking hay. For one +moment all my sym<!-- Page 139 --><a name='Page_139'></a>pathy was for the shrinking woman; then, when +suddenly, in despite of the delicious morning coolness, a great drop of +perspiration splashed from the Colonel's corrugated brow, down into the +obstreperous curly mass he wrestled with, I pitied him, too, and +cried:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll do that. Take care, you'll swallow a pin or two if you +contradict me. Your spirit is willing, Colonel, but your flesh, for all +you have such a lot of it, is weak, when you come to hair-dressing!"</p> + +<p>And regardless of his very earnest protest, I took the tangled, +tormented mass in hand and soon had it waving back into a fluffy knot; +and just as I was drawing forth some short locks for the forehead, there +came a knock and in bounced the mistress of the house, our landlady, +Mme. F——, who, missing our arrival the night before, came now to bid +us welcome and inquire as to our satisfaction with arrangements, etc. +She was a short woman, of surprising breadth and more sur<!-- Page 140 --><a name='Page_140'></a>prising +velocity of speech. She could pronounce more words to a single breath +than any other person I have ever met. She was German by birth, and +spoke French with a strong German accent, while her English was a thing +to wring the soul, sprinkled as it was with German "unds," "ufs," and +"yousts," and French "zees" and "zats." Our French being of the slow and +precise kind, and her English of the rattling and at first +incomprehensible type, the conversation was somewhat confused. But even +so, my friends noticed with surprise, that Madame did not address one +word of welcome to me. They hastened to introduce me, using my married +name.</p> + +<p>A momentary annoyance came into her face, then she dropped her lids +haughtily, swept me from head to foot with one contemptuous glance, and +without even the faintest nod in return to my "Bon jour, Madame," she +turned to Mrs. P——, who, red with indignation, was trying to sputter +<!-- Page 141 --><a name='Page_141'></a>out a demand for an explanation, and asked swiftly:—</p> + +<p>"Und zat ozzer lady? you vas to be t'ree—n'est-ce pas? She hav' not +com' yed? to-morrow, perhaps, und—und" (I saw what was coming, but my +companions suspected nothing), "und"—she dropped her lids again and +indicated me with a contemptuous movement of the head—"she, zat maid, +you vant to make arrange for her? You hav' not write for room for zat +maid?"</p> + +<p>I leaned from the window to hide my laughter, for it seemed to me that +Colonel P—— jumped a foot, while the cry of his wife drowned the sound +of the short, warm word that is of great comfort to angry men. Before +they could advance one word of explanation, an aproned waiter fairly +burst into the room, crying for "Madame! Madame! to come quick, for that +Jules was at it very bad again!" And she wildly rushed out, saying over +her shoulder, "By und by we zee for zat maid, und about zat udder lady, +by <!-- Page 142 --><a name='Page_142'></a>und by also," and so departed at a run with a great rattling of +starch and fluttering of cap ribbons; for Jules, the head cook, already +in the first stages of delirium tremens, was making himself interesting +to the guests by trying to jump into the fountain basin to save the +lives of the tiny ducklings, who were happily swimming there, and Madame +F—— was sorely needed.</p> + +<p>Yes, I laughed—laughed honestly at the helpless wrath of my friends, +and pretended to laugh at the mistake; but all the time I was saying to +myself, "Had I really been acting as maid, how cruelly I should have +suffered under that contemptuous glance and from that withheld bow of +recognition." She had found me well-dressed, intelligent, and +well-mannered; yet she had insulted me, because she believed me to be a +lady's maid. No wonder women find service bitter.</p> + +<p>We had retired from the breakfast room and were arranging our plans for +the day, when a sort of whirlwind came rushing <!-- Page 143 --><a name='Page_143'></a>through the hall, the +door sprang open almost without a pronounced permission, and Madame +F—— flung herself into the room, caught my hands in hers, pressed them +to her heart, to her lips, to her brow, wept in German, in French, in +English, and called distractedly upon "Himmel!" "Ciel!" and "Heaven!" +But she found her apologies so coldly received by my friends that she +was glad to turn the flood of her remorse in my direction, and for very +shame of the scene she was making I assured her the mistake was quite +pardonable—as it was. It was her manner that was almost unpardonable. +Then she added to my discomfort by bursting out with fulsome praise of +me as an actress; how she had seen me and wept, and so on and on, she +being only at last walked and talked gently out of the room.</p> + +<p>But that was not the end of her remorse. A truly French bouquet with its +white paper petticoat arrived in about an hour, "From the so madly +mistooken Madame F——," the <!-- Page 144 --><a name='Page_144'></a>card read, and that act of penance was +performed every morning as long as I remained in Paris. But one day she +appealed to the Colonel for pity and sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said she, "I hav' zee two tr'ubles, zee two sorrows! I hav' zee +grief to vound zee feelin's of zat so fine actrice Americaine—zat ees +one tr'ubles, und den I hav' zee shame to mak' zat grande fool +meestak'—oh, mon Dieu! I tak' her for zee maid, und zare my most great +tr'uble come in! I hav' no one with zee right to keek me—to keek me +hard from zee back for being such a fool. I say mit my husband dat +night, 'Vill you keek me hard, if you pleas'?' Mais, he cannot, he hav' +zee gout in zee grande toe, und he can't keek vurth one sou!—und zat is +my second tr'uble!"</p> + +<p>Behind her broad back the Colonel confessed that had she expressed such +a wish on the occasion of the mistake, he would willingly have obliged +her, as he was quite free from gout.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 145 --><a name='Page_145'></a>So any woman who goes forth to win her living as an actress will at +least be spared the contemptuous treatment bestowed on me in my short +service as an amateur lady's maid.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 146 --><a name='Page_146'></a><i>CHAPTER XIII +<br /><br /> +THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>What is the bane of a young actress's life?</p> + +<p>Under the protection of pretty seals stamped in various tints of wax, I +find one question appearing in many slightly different forms. A large +number of writers ask, "What is the greatest difficulty a young actress +has to surmount?" In another pile of notes the question appears in this +guise, "What is the principal obstacle in the way of the young actress?" +While two motherly bodies ask, "What one thing worries an actress the +most?" After due thought I have cast them all together, boiled them +down, and reduced them to this, "What is the bane of a <!-- Page 147 --><a name='Page_147'></a>young actress's +life?" which question I can answer without going into training, with one +hand tied behind me, and both eyes bandaged, answer in one +word—<i>dress</i>. Ever since that far-away season when Eve, the beautiful, +inquiring, let-me-see-for-myself Eve, made fig leaves popular in Eden, +and invented the apron to fill a newly felt want, dress has been at once +the comfort and the torment of woman.</p> + +<p>Acting is a matter of pretence, and she who can best pretend a splendid +passion, a tender love, or a murderous hate, is admittedly the finest +actress. Time was when stage wardrobe was a pretence, too. An actress +was expected to please the eye, she was expected to be historically +correct as to the shape and style of her costume; but no one expected +her queenly robes to be of silk velvet, her imperial ermine to be +anything rarer than rabbit-skin. My own earliest ermine was humbler +still, being constructed of the very democratic white canton <!-- Page 148 --><a name='Page_148'></a>flannel +turned wrong side out, while the ermine's characteristic little black +tails were formed by short bits of round shoe-lacing. The only advantage +I can honestly claim for this domestic ermine is its freedom from the +moths, who dearly love imported garments of soft fine cloth and rare +lining. I have had and have seen others have, in the old days, really +gorgeous brocades made by cutting out great bunches of flowers from +chintz and applying them to a cheaper background, and then picking out +the high lights with embroidery silk, the effect being not only +beautiful, but rich. All these make-believes were necessary then, on a +$30 or $35 a week salary, for a leading lady drew no more.</p> + +<a name='Jane_Eyre'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris as "Jane Eyre"</i>]</p> + +<p>But times are changed, stage lighting is better, stronger. The opera +glass is almost universally used, deceptions would be more easily +discovered; and more, oh, so much more is expected from the actress of +to-day. Formerly she was required, first of all, to sink her own +individuality in that of the <!-- Page 149 --><a name='Page_149'></a>woman she pretended to be; and next, if +it was a dramatized novel she was acting in, she was to make herself +look as nearly like the described heroine as possible; otherwise she had +simply to make herself as pretty as she knew how in her own way, that +was all. But now the actresses of a great city are supposed to set the +fashion for the coming season. They almost literally dress in the style +of to-morrow: thus the cult of clothes becomes harmful to the actress. +Precious time that should be given to the minute study, the final +polishing of a difficult character, is used instead in deciding the +pitch of a skirt, the width of a collar, or open sleeve-strap, or no +sleeve at all.</p> + +<p>Some ladies of my acquaintance who had been to the theatre three times, +avowedly to study as models the costumes, when questioned as to the +play, looked at one another and then answered vaguely: "The performance? +Oh, nothing remarkable! It was fair enough; but the dresses! They are +<!-- Page 150 --><a name='Page_150'></a>really beyond anything in town, and must have cost a mint of money!"</p> + +<p>So we have got around to the opposite of the old-time aim, when the +answer might possibly have been: "The acting was beyond anything in +town. The dresses? Nothing remarkable! Oh, well, fair enough!"</p> + +<p>I have often been told by famous women of the past that the beautiful +Mrs. Russell, then of Wallack's Theatre, was the originator in this +country of richly elegant realism in stage costuming. When it was known +that the mere linings of her gowns cost more than the outside of other +dresses; that all her velvet was silk velvet; all her lace to the last +inch was real lace; that no wired nor spliced feathers curled about her +splendid leghorns, only magnificent single plumes, each worth weeks of +salary, this handsome woman, superbly clad, created a sensation, but +alas! at the same time, she unconsciously scattered seed behind her that +<!-- Page 151 --><a name='Page_151'></a>sprang up into a fine crop of dragon's teeth for following young +actresses to gather. <i>Qui donne le menu, donne la faim!</i> And right here +let me say, I am not of those who believe the past holds a monopoly of +all good things. I have much satisfaction in the present, and a strong +and an abiding faith in the future, and even in this matter of dress, +which has become such an anxiety to the young actress, I would not ask +to go back to those days of primitive costuming. In Shakespere's day +there appeared over a "drop," or curtain of green, a legend plainly +stating, "This is a street in Verona," and every man with an imagination +straightway saw the Veronese street to his complete satisfaction; but +there were those who had no imagination, and to hold their attention and +to keep their patronage, scenes had to be painted for them. One would +not like to see a woman draped in plain grey with an attached placard +saying, "This is a ball gown" or "This is a Coronation robe," the +<!-- Page 152 --><a name='Page_152'></a>imagination would balk at it. But there is a far cry between that and +the real Coronation robe of velvet, fur, and jewels. What I would ask +for is moderation, and above all freedom for the actress from the burden +of senseless extravagance which is being bound upon her shoulders—not +by the public, not even by the manager, but by the mischievous small +hands of sister actresses, who have private means outside of their +salaries. How generous they would be if they could be content to dress +with grace and elegance while omitting the mad extravagance that those +who are dependent upon their salaries alone will surely try to emulate, +and sometimes at what a price, dear Heaven, at what a price!</p> + +<p>Let us say an actress plays the part of a woman of fashion—of rank. As +she makes her first appearance, she is supposed to have returned from +the opera. Therefore, though she may wear them but one moment, hood and +opera cloak are needed because they will help out the illusion. Suppose, +then, <!-- Page 153 --><a name='Page_153'></a>she wears a long cloak of velvet or cloth, with a lining of +delicate tinted quilted satin or fur; if the impression of warmth or +elegance and comfort is given, its work has been well done. But suppose +the actress enters in an opera cloak of such gorgeous material that the +elaborate embroidery on it seems an impertinence—a creation lined with +the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real +lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels—what happens? The cloak pushes +forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob +this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak +whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its +beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten +to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of +that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama.</p> + +<p>Extravagance is inartistic—so for that <!-- Page 154 --><a name='Page_154'></a>reason I could wish for +moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be +to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for +the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when, +during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five +dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes +for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my +gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the +dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc., +and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up +fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and +they will come to see the new dresses."</p> + +<p>And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are +acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I +can't object <!-- Page 155 --><a name='Page_155'></a>any longer. You see, I was under the impression people +came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me +my error."</p> + +<p>For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our +unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am +surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I +surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the +open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial +revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for +me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after +one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill.</p> + +<p>Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she +could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her—that is very +bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and <!-- Page 156 --><a name='Page_156'></a>when +the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more +than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest +fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, +fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists +joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best +hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now.</p> + +<p>So the young actress—unless she has some little means, aside from a +salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke +that salary out—is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; +for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and +besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the +poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs.</p> + +<p>Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I +think, <!-- Page 157 --><a name='Page_157'></a>have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming +pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in +her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her +$200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 +parasol."</p> + +<p>Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or +beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious +one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those +flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a +spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become +necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is +forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes +were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply +pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter +envy and <!-- Page 158 --><a name='Page_158'></a>fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the +mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their +owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the +under girl, in the struggle for clothes!</p> + +<p>In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe +for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and +shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes +of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite +taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for +production after production, it would seem that the management must +share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very +much higher than they were a few years ago.</p> + +<p>In France the stage, no doubt, partly fills the place of the departed +court in presenting new fashions to the public eye, doing it with the +graceful aplomb that <!-- Page 159 --><a name='Page_159'></a>has carried many a doubtful innovation on to sure +success. Those beautiful and trained artists take pleasure in first +presenting the style other women are to follow, and yet they share the +honour (?) with another class, whose most audacious follies in dress, +while studied from the corner of a downcast eye, are nevertheless often +slavishly followed.</p> + +<p>How many of the thousands of women, who years ago wore the large, +flaring back, felt hat, knew they were following the whim of a woman +known to the half-world as Cora Pearl? Not pretty, but of a very +beautiful figure, and English by birth, she was, one might say, of +course, a good horse-woman. She banqueted late one night—so late that +dawn was greying the windows and the sodden faces of her guests when +they began to take leave. She had indulged in too much wine for comfort; +her head was hot. She was seized with one of the wild whims of her +lawless class—she <!-- Page 160 --><a name='Page_160'></a>would mount then and there and ride in the Bois. +Remonstrances chilled her whim to iron will. Horses were sent for, her +maid aroused. She flung on her habit, and held her hand out for her +chapeau. There was none.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle should recall the new riding hat had been too small, had +been returned for blocking."</p> + +<p>"Tres bien, le vieux donc, vite!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mon Dieu, il fut donné." A quick blow stopped further explanation.</p> + +<p>"Quelle que cruche, que cette fille," then a moment's silence, a roving +about of the small hot eyes, and with a bound she tore from an American +artist's hand his big soft felt hat. Turning the flapping brim up, she +fastened it to the crown in three places with jewelled pins, tore a +bunch of velvet from her dinner corsage, secured it directly in front, +and clapping the hat on the back of her head, dashed downstairs and was +in the saddle with a scrabble <!-- Page 161 --><a name='Page_161'></a>and a bound, and away like mad, followed +by two men, who were her unwilling companions. Riding longer than she +had intended, she returned in broad daylight. All Paris was agog over +her odd head gear. Her impudent, laughing face caught their fancy yet +again, and she trotted down from the Arc de Triomphe between two +rippling little streams of comment and admiration, with, "Comme elle est +belle!" "Quelle aplomb!" "Matin, quelle chic!" "Elle est forte +gentille!" "C'est le coup de grace!" "Le chapeau! le chapeau!" "La belle +Pearl! la belle Pearl!" reaching her distinctly at every other moment.</p> + +<p>And that was the origin of the back-turned, broad-brimmed hat that had +such vogue before the arrival of the Gainsborough or picture hat.</p> + +<p>If I were a young actress, I would rather be noted for acting than for +originating a new style of garment; but it is a free country, thank God, +and a big one, with <!-- Page 162 --><a name='Page_162'></a>room for all of us, whatever our preferences. And +though the young actress has the clothes question heavy on her mind now, +and finds it hard to keep up with others and at the same time out of +debt, she has the right to hope that by and by she will be so good an +actress, and so valuable to the theatre, that a fat salary will make the +clothes matter play second fiddle, as is right and proper it should, to +the question of fine acting.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h2><!-- Page 163 --><a name='Page_163'></a><i>CHAPTER XIV +<br /><br /> +THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Thousands of persons who do not themselves use slang understand and even +appreciate it. The American brand is generally pithy, compact, and +expressive, and not always vulgar. Slang is at its worst in contemptuous +epithets, and of those the one that is lowest and most offensive seems +likely to become a permanent, recognized addition to the language. No +more vulgar term exists than "masher," and it is a distinct comfort to +find Webster ascribing the <!-- Page 164 --><a name='Page_164'></a>origin of the word to England's reckless +fun-maker,—<i>Punch</i>.</p> + +<p>Beaux, bucks, lady-killers, Johnnies,—all these terms have been applied +at different periods to the self-proclaimed fascinator of women, and +to-day we will use some one, any of them, rather than that +abomination,—masher. Nor am I "puttin' on scallops and frills," as the +boys say. I know a good thing when I hear it, as when a very much +overdressed woman entered a car, and its first sudden jerk broke her +gorgeous parasol, while its second flung her into the arms of the +ugliest, fattest man present and whirled her pocket-book out of the +window, I knew that the voice of conviction that slowly said, "Well, she +is up against it," slangily expressed the unfortunate woman's exact +predicament. Oh, no, I'm not "puttin' on frills," I am only objecting +with all my might and main to a term, as well as to the contemptible +creature indicated by it,—masher.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 165 --><a name='Page_165'></a>In a certain school, long ago, there was a very gentle, tender-hearted +teacher, who was also the comforter and peacemaker of her flock. +Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one +else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, +and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the +teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks +of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent +floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue +and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, +"There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll +all be quite happy." I am sure we all thought that it was the eleventh +commandment, "Not to say anything more about it."</p> + +<p>Now every one of us suffered more or less from our encounters with the +multiplication table. Of course <i>fives</i> and <i>tens</i> were at a +<!-- Page 166 --><a name='Page_166'></a>premium—even very stupid little girls could get through them, and +<i>twos</i> were not so bad, but the rest of the tables were tear-washed +daily. <i>Sevens</i> were, however, my own especial nightmare—even to this +day my fingers instinctively begin to move when I multiply any figure by +seven. Standing in class on the platform, the <i>sevens</i> one day fell to +me. Being charged to put my hands before me, that I should not by chance +forget and count by their aid, I staggered and reeled through the table +so far as seven times seven, when, moistening my lips, I hoarsely +whispered, "Forty-nine," and the shock of finding the answer correct +destroyed me utterly. Seven times eight was anything they liked in +figures, and so I recklessly cried out, "Oh, sixty-two, I guess," and +burst into tears. Recess came, and I would not move from my desk; and +then the teacher dried my tears on her own cool, sweet handkerchief, and +was comforting me as best she could, when suddenly I stole her <!-- Page 167 --><a name='Page_167'></a>thunder +by pressing my damp cheek to hers and saying eagerly, "Don't let us say +anything more about the <i>sevens</i>, Miss Sands, and then we'll all be +quite happy."</p> + +<p>Poor little tots! Poor multiplication table! and now, oh, how I would +like to cry, "Don't let us say anything more about the masher, and then +we'll all be quite happy;" but to calm the needless fears of many, let +me say at once, the creature is a nuisance, but not a danger. The +stealthy, crafty, determined pursuer of the young and honest actress is +a product of the imagination. These "Johnnies" who hang about stage +doors and send foolish and impertinent notes to the girlhood of the +stage are not in love—they are actuated by vanity, pure and simple. +These young "taddies," with hair carefully plastered down, are as like +one another as are the peas of one pod,—each wishes to be considered a +very devil of a fellow; but how can that be unless he is recognized as a +fascinator of women, a masher; <!-- Page 168 --><a name='Page_168'></a>and the quickest way to obtain that +reputation is to be seen supping or driving with pretty actresses.</p> + +<p>One of the odd things of the professional life is that in the artistic +sense you are not considered an "actress" until you have shown some +merit, have done some good, honest work; but for the purposes of gossip +or scandal, ballet girls, chorus girls, or figurantes become actresses +full fledged. Mammas and aunties of would-be young artists seem to have +made a veritable bogy-man of this would-be lady-killer. What nonsense! +Any well-brought-up young woman, respecting the proprieties, can protect +herself from the attentions of this walking impertinence. Letters are +his chief weapon. If they are signed, it is easy to return them, if one +cares to take so much trouble. A gift would be returned; if sent without +a signature, it need not be shown nor worn. If the creature presumes to +hang about the stage door, a word of complaint to the manager will be +<!-- Page 169 --><a name='Page_169'></a>sufficient; the "masher" will at once "take notice" of some other door +and probably of some other actress. But I am asked, Why does he exist? +And I suppose he could not if he were not encouraged, and there does +exist a certain body of girls who think it great fun to get a jolly +supper or a ride to the races out of the Johnny's pocket-book. Wait, +now; please don't jump instantly to the conclusion that these chorus or +ballet girls are thoroughly bad because they smash to smithereens the +conventional laws regulating the conduct of society girls. Most of them, +on the contrary, are honest and, knowing how to take care of themselves, +will risk hearing a few impudent, wounding words rather than lose one +hour of merriment their youth craves. Of course this is not as it should +be, but these girls are pretty; life has been hard; delicate +sensibilities have not been cultivated in them. Before we harshly +condemn, let us first bow to that rough honesty that will <!-- Page 170 --><a name='Page_170'></a>defend +itself, if need be, with a blow. A refined girl would never put herself +in a position requiring such drastic measures; but it is, I think, to +these reckless young wretches, and a few silly, sentimental simpletons +who permit themselves to be drawn into a mawkish correspondence with +perfect strangers, that we really owe the continued existence of the +stage-door "masher," who wishes to be mistaken for a member of the +<i>jeunesse dorée</i>.</p> + +<p>But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another +reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over +is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising +artist, Miss G——, is not his style. He is not looking for brains, +"don't yer know." He fancies No. 3 in the second row, she with the +flashing eyes and teeth; or No. 7 in the front row, that has the cutest +kick in the whole crowd. And his cheap and common letters of fulsome +compliment and <!-- Page 171 --><a name='Page_171'></a>invitation go to her accordingly. But the daring little +free lance who accepts these attentions pays a high price for the bit of +supper that is followed by gross impertinences. One would think that the +democratic twenty-five-cent oyster stew, and respect therewith, would +taste better than the small bird and the small bottle with insult as a +<i>demi-tasse</i>. Then, too, she loses caste at once; for it is not enough +that a girl should not do evil: she must also avoid the appearance of +evil. She will be judged by the character of her companions, and a few +half-hearted denials, a shrug of the shoulders, a discreetly suppressed +smile, will place her among the list of his "mashes." Oh, hideous word!</p> + +<p>Of course, now and again, at long, long intervals, a man really falls in +love with a woman whom he has seen only upon the stage; but no "masher" +proceedings are taken in such cases. On the other hand, very determined +efforts are made to locate <!-- Page 172 --><a name='Page_172'></a>the actress's family or friends, and through +them to be properly presented.</p> + +<p>Believing, as I did, that every girl had a perfect right to humiliate a +"masher" to the extent of her ability, I once went, it's hard to admit +it, but really I did go, too far in reprisal. Well, at all events, I was +made to feel rather ashamed of myself. We were presenting "Alixe" at Mr. +Daly's Broadway Theatre, just after the fire, and the would-be +lady-killer was abroad in the land and unusually active. There was +seldom a night that some one was not laughing contemptuously or frowning +fiercely over a "drop letter," as we called them. One evening my box +held a most inflammable communication. It was not written upon club +paper, nor had it any private monogram; in fact, it was on legal cap. +The hand was large, round, and laboriously distinct. The i's were +dotted, the t's crossed with painful precision, while toward capitals +and punctuation marks the writer showed <!-- Page 173 --><a name='Page_173'></a>more generosity than +understanding. His sentiment and romance were of the old-time rural +type, and I am certain he longed to quote, "The rose is red, the +violet's blue." I might have been a little touched but for the +signature. I loathed the faintest hint of anonymity, and simply could +not bring myself to believe that any man really and truly walked up and +down the earth bearing the name of Mr. A. Fix. Yet that was the +signature appended to the long, rapturous love-letter. I gave it a pitch +into the waste-basket and dressed for the play. Of course I spoke of the +name, and of course it was laughed at; but three nights later another +letter came—oh, well, it was just a letter. The writer was very +diffuse, and evidently had plenty of paper and ink and time at his +disposal. He dwelt on his sufferings as each day passed without a letter +from me. He explained just what efforts he had made, vainly made, to +secure sleep each night. He did not live in a large <!-- Page 174 --><a name='Page_174'></a>city when at home, +and he described how nearly he had come to being run over in trying to +cross our biggest street—while thinking of me. Oh, Mr Fix! He bravely +admitted he was due at the store out home, but he kept a-thinking I +might not have got that first letter, or maybe I wanted to look him over +before writing. So he had waited and was coming to the theatre that very +night, and his seat was in the balcony,—No. 3, left side, front +row,—and for fear I might not feel quite sure about him, he would hold +high to his face, in his left hand, a large white handkerchief.</p> + +<p>It didn't seem to occur to him that such an attitude would give him a +very grief-stricken aspect; he only desired to give me a fair chance "to +look him over." Without a second thought, I read that portion of the +letter in the greenroom, and the laughter had scarcely died away when +that admirable actor, but perfectly fiendish player of tricks, Louis +James, was going quietly from <!-- Page 175 --><a name='Page_175'></a>actor to actor arranging for the downfall +of A. Fix.</p> + +<p>So it happened that James, Clarke, and Lewis, instead of entering in a +group, came on in Indian file, each holding in the left hand a large +pocket-handkerchief. I being already on the stage, there was of course a +line spread of canvas in the balcony. The audience, ever quick to catch +on to a joke, seeing each man glance upward, followed suit, spied the +enormous handkerchief held high in the left hand, and realizing the +situation, burst into hilarious laughter. Uselessly I pleaded; at every +possible opportunity the white handkerchief appeared in some left hand, +while the stage manager vainly wondered why the audience laughed in such +unseemly places that night.</p> + +<p>The next day that young person, whom I had treated as a common "masher," +heaped a whole shovelful of hot, hot coals upon my guilty head by +writing me a letter less carefully dotted and crossed, somewhat more +<!-- Page 176 --><a name='Page_176'></a>confused in metaphor than before, but beginning with: "I am afraid you +are cruel. I think you must have betrayed me to your mates, for I do not +remember that they did such things before last night with their +handkerchiefs."</p> + +<p>Then, after telling me his home address, his business, and his exact +standing socially, he laid these specially large hot coals carefully +upon my brow, "So, though you make a laughing-stock of me, now don't +think I shall be mad about it; but remember if any trouble or sickness +comes to you, no matter how far from now, if you will just write me one +word, I'll help you to my plumb last cent," and truly Mr. Fix left me +ashamed and sorry.</p> + +<p>He had suffered for his name, which I believed to be an assumed one. +Poor young man, I offer an apology to his memory.</p> + +<p>One scamp wrote so brazenly, so persistently, demanding answers to be +sent to a certain prominent club, that I one day laid the letters before +Mr. Daly, and he adver<!-- Page 177 --><a name='Page_177'></a>tised in the theatre programme that "if Mr. +B.M.B., of such a club, would call at the box office, he would receive +not the answer he expected, but the one he deserved," and Mr. Daly was +highly delighted when he heard that B.M.B., who was a "masher" <i>par +excellence</i>, had been literally chaffed out of the club rooms.</p> + +<p>Those creatures that, like poisonous toadstools, spring up at street +corners to the torment of women, should be taken in hand by the police, +since they encumber the streets and are a menace and a mortification to +female citizens. Let some brazen woman take the place of one of these +street "mashers," and proceed to ogle passers-by, and see how quickly +the police would gather her in.</p> + +<p>But so far as the stage "masher" is concerned, dear and anxious mamma, +auntie, or sister, don't worry about the safety of your actress to be. +The "masher" is an impertinence, a nuisance; but never, dear madam, +never a danger.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h2><!-- Page 178 --><a name='Page_178'></a><i>CHAPTER XV +<br /><br /> +SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>"What social conditions exist behind the scenes?"</p> + +<p>This fourth question is one that Charles Dickens would have called an +"agriwator," and as it is repeated every now and again, I ask myself +where is the curiosity about the theatre, its people, and its life to +end? The question is, What social conditions exist behind the scenes? +Now to be quite frank, the first few times this query appeared, I was +distinctly aggravated. I said to myself, do these ladies and +gentlemen—yes, three males are in this inquiring group—do they think +we are a people so apart from all others that we require a separate and +dis<!-- Page 179 --><a name='Page_179'></a>tinctly different social code; that we know nothing of the law +governing the size, style, and use of the visiting card; that +congratulations, condolences, are unknown rites; that invitations, +acceptances, and regrets are ancient Hebrew to us, and calls, teas, +dinners, and dances are exalted functions far above our comprehension? +And then I read the question again, and saw I was making a ninny of +myself—an easy thing to do with the thermometer at ninety-nine in the +shade. That it said "behind the scenes," and with a laugh I recalled the +little child who had delightedly witnessed her first Christmas +pantomime; and being told afterward I was one of the people of the play, +she watched and listened eagerly some time before coming and resting a +dimpled hand on mine, to ask disappointedly, "Please, does all the +actin' people have 'emselves jes' same as any one?"</p> + +<p>Poor blue-eyed tot, she had expected at least a few twirls about the +room, a few <!-- Page 180 --><a name='Page_180'></a>bounds and hand kisses; and here I was "'having" just like +any one. So all my mistaken vexation gone, I'll try to make plain our +social condition behind the scenes.</p> + +<p>In the first place, then, a theatrical company is almost exactly like +one large family. Our feeling for one another is generally one of warm +good-fellowship. In our manners there is an easy familiarity which we +would not dream of using outside of our own little company circle. We +are a socially inclined people, communicative, fond of friendly +conversation, and hopelessly given over to jokes, or, as we put it, "to +guying."</p> + +<p>But don't imagine there's any <i>socialism</i> about a theatre that means +community of property and association; on the contrary, we enter into +the keenest competition with one another.</p> + +<p>I dare say an outsider, as the non-professional has been termed time out +of mind, watching our conduct for a few days and nights, would conclude +that, though quite <!-- Page 181 --><a name='Page_181'></a>harmless, we are all a little <i>mad</i>. For the actor's +funny habit of injecting old, old lines of old, old plays into his +everyday conversation must be somewhat bewildering to the uninitiated:—</p> + +<p>If an elderly, heavy breathing, portly gentleman, lifting his hat to a +gentle, dignified little lady, remarks, "Beshrew me, but I do love thee +still. Isn't it hot this morning; take this chair." Or if a very slender +pop-eyed young comedian, while wiping his brow, says, "Now could I drink +hot blood and hold it not a sin," and some one else calmly answers, "You +haven't got those words right, and you couldn't drink anything hot +to-day without having a fit." Or if two big, stalwart men, meeting in +the "entrance," fall suddenly into each other's arms, with a cry of +"Camille!" "Armand!" Or if a man enters the greenroom with his hat on, +and a half-dozen people call, "Do you take this for an ale-house, that +you can enter with such a swagger?" and the hat comes off with a +<!-- Page 182 --><a name='Page_182'></a>laughing apology. Or if the man with the cane is everlastingly +practising "carte and tierce" on somebody, or doing a broadsword fight +with any one who has an umbrella. If a woman passes with her eyes cast +down, reading a letter, and some one says, "In maiden meditation, fancy +free." If she eats a sandwich at a long rehearsal, and some one +instantly begins, "A creature not too bright nor good for human nature's +daily food." If she appears in a conspicuously new gown and some one +cries, "The riches of the ship have come on shore," ten to one she +replies, "A poor thing, but mine own."</p> + +<p>These things will look and sound queer and flighty to the outsider, who, +not acquainted with the lines or the plays they are from, cannot of +course see how aptly some of them adapt themselves to the situation. But +this one is plain to all. A young girl, who was a very careless dresser, +was trailing along the "entrance" one evening, <!-- Page 183 --><a name='Page_183'></a>when behind her the +leading man, quoting Juliet, remarked, "'Thou knowest the mask of night +is on my cheek,' or I would not dare tell you your petticoat is coming +off;" a perfect gale of laughter followed, in which the little sloven +joined heartily.</p> + +<p>Then one morning, rehearsal being dismissed, I was hurrying away, +intending to enjoy a ride on horse-back, when Mr. Davidge, Mr. Daly's +"old man," lifting his hat politely, and twisting Macbeth's words very +slightly, remarked, "I wish your horse swift and sure of foot, and so I +do commend you to its back," and as I laughed, "Macbeth, Act III," we +parted in mutual admiration for each other's knowledge of the great +play.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen are attentive to the ladies' small needs, providing seats +when possible, bringing a wrap, a glass of water, fanning you if you are +warm, carrying your long train if it is heavy; but never, never losing +the chance to play a joke on you if they can.</p> + +<p>There is generally some ringleader of <!-- Page 184 --><a name='Page_184'></a>greenroom fun; for most actors +are very impatient of "waits" between the scenes, and would rather pass +such time in pranks than in quiet conversation. On one occasion some of +the actors had made noise enough to reach the managerial ear, and they +were forfeited. The actresses laughed at their discomfiture, and revenge +was at once in order. Next night, then, four young men brought bits of +calico and threaded needles with them, and when their "wait" came, they +all sat quietly in a row and sewed steadily. The sight was so ludicrous +the women went off into unbounded laughter, and were in their turn +forfeited.</p> + +<p>Nothing excuses the use of swear words behind the scenes, and even a +very mild indulgence is paid for by a heavy forfeit. One actor, not too +popular with the company, used always to be late, and coming into the +dressing room, he would fling everything about and knock things over, +causing any amount of annoyance to his room-mates.<!-- Page 185 --><a name='Page_185'></a> He went on in but +one act, the third, and the lateness of the hour made his lack of +business promptitude the more marked. A joke was, of course, in order, +and a practical joke at that.</p> + +<p>One evening he was extra late, and that was the opportunity of the +joking room-mates. They carefully dropped some powerful, strong-holding +gum into the heels of his patent leather shoes, and had barely put them +in place, when the ever-late actor was heard coming on the run down the +passage. In he tore, flinging things right and left, overturning +make-ups, and knocking down precious silk hats. He grabbed his shoes, +jammed his foot into one, scowled and exclaimed disgustedly, "What the +deuce! there's something in this shoe. Bah," he went on, "and in this +one, too!"</p> + +<p>"Take them off and shake 'em," suggested the dropper of the gum.</p> + +<p>"No time," growled the victim; "I'll get docked if I'm a second late. +But these con<!-- Page 186 --><a name='Page_186'></a>founded things feel damp in the heels," and he kicked and +stamped viciously.</p> + +<p>"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the +heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now, +personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like—like a +china nest-egg, don't you know; but <i>damp heels</i>, it doesn't sound +right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!"</p> + +<p>And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you +spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then +asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place, +"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?"</p> + +<p>"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I +have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This +while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy <!-- Page 187 --><a name='Page_187'></a>known in +its fulness to the practical joker alone.</p> + +<a name='Sphinx'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"</i>]</p> + +<p>The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment +his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could +scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried +nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the +street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas, +alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint, +his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck, +it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,—that +they brought both sock and skin with them.</p> + +<p>Three men, with tears in their eyes, had pencils, and kept tally of his +remarks as he danced about after each frantic tug at a glued-on shoe. +One took down every wounding, malicious word. A second caught and +preserved every defamatory word. While the third and busiest one secured +every <!-- Page 188 --><a name='Page_188'></a>profane word that fell from his enraged lips.</p> + +<p>Finally he poured the contents of the alcohol bottle into his shoes and, +swearing like a madman, waited for the gum to soften. And the manager, +who was not deaf, proved that his heart was harder than the best gum and +could not be softened at all. And to this day no member of the company +knows how much of the victim's salary was left to him that week after +forfeits for bad words were all paid up. But some good came from the +affair, for the actor was never again so late in arriving as not to have +time to look into his shoes for any strange substance possibly lurking +there.</p> + +<p>Personally, I detest the practical joke, but I have, alas! never been +above enjoying my share of the greenroom fun. Some members of Mr. Daly's +company were very stately and dignified, and he would have been glad had +we all been like them. But there were others who would have had fun with +the <!-- Page 189 --><a name='Page_189'></a>tombs of the Egyptian kings, and who could wring smiles from a +graven image. Mr. Daly forfeited at last so recklessly, that either the +brakes had to be put upon our fun or some one would have to do picket +duty. The restless element had a wait of an entire long act in one play, +and among those who waited was a tiny little bit of an old, old man. He +wore rags in his "part," and on the seat of his trousers was an enormous +red patch. He had been asked to stand guard in the greenroom door, and +nothing loath, he only argued deprecatingly: "You'll all get caught, I'm +afraid. You see, Mr. Daly's so sharp, if I cough, he'll hear me, too, +and will understand. If I signal, he'll see me, and we'll all get +forfeited together."</p> + +<p>For a moment we were silently cast down. Then I rose to the occasion +beautifully. I took the wee little man and placed him in the greenroom +doorway, leaning with his back against the door-jamb. When he saw Mr. +Daly in the distance, he simply was to <!-- Page 190 --><a name='Page_190'></a>turn his bright red patch +<i>toward</i> us—we would do the rest.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious success. We kept an eye on the picket, and when the +red patch danger signal was shown, silence fell upon the room. Forfeits +ceased for a long time. Of course we paid our watchman for his +services—paid him in pies. He had a depraved passion for bakers' pies, +which he would not cut into portions, because he said it spoiled their +flavour—he preferred working his way through them; and that small grey +face seen near the centre of a mince pie whose rim was closing gently +about his ears was a sight to make a supreme justice smile.</p> + +<p>But our evil course was almost run: our little pie-eater, who was just a +touch odd, or what people call "queer," on Thanksgiving Day permitted +himself to be treated by so many drivers of pie wagons that at night he +was tearful and confused, and though he watched faithfully for the +coming of Mr.<!-- Page 191 --><a name='Page_191'></a> Daly, while we laughingly listened to a positively +criminal parody on "The Bells," watched for and saw him in ample time, +he, alas! confusedly turned his red patch the wrong way, and we, every +one, came to grief and forfeiture in consequence.</p> + +<p>Obliging people, generous, ever ready to give a helping hand. Behind the +scenes, then, our social condition, I may say, is one of good-mannered +informality, of jollity tempered by respect and genuine good-fellowship.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a><h2><!-- Page 192 --><a name='Page_192'></a><i>CHAPTER XVI +<br /><br /> +THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Nothing in my autobiography seems to have aroused so much comment, so +much surprise, as my admission that I prayed in moments of great +distress or anxiety, even when in the theatre.</p> + +<p>One man writes that he never knew before that there was such a thing as +a "praying actress." Poor fellow, one can't help feeling there's lots of +other things he doesn't know; and though I wish to break the news as +gently as possible, I have to inform him that I am not a <i>rara avis</i>, +that many actresses <!-- Page 193 --><a name='Page_193'></a>pray; indeed, the woods are full of us, so to +speak.</p> + +<p>One very old gentleman finds this habit of prayer "commendable and +sweet," but generally there seems to be a feeling of amazement that I +should dare, as it were, to bring the profession of acting to the +attention of our Lord; and yet we are authorized to pray, "Direct us, O +Lord, in <i>all our doings</i>, and further us with thy continual help, that +in all our work we may glorify thy holy name."</p> + +<p>It is not the work, but the motive, the spirit that actuates the work; +whether embroidering stoles, sawing wood, washing dishes, or acting, if +it is done honestly, for the glory of the holy name, why may one not +pray for divine help?</p> + +<p>One lady, who, poor soul, should have been born two or three hundred +years ago, when her narrowness would have been more natural, is shocked, +almost indignant; and though she is good enough to say she does not +accuse me of "intentional sacrilege,"<!-- Page 194 --><a name='Page_194'></a> still, addressing a prayer to God +from a theatre is nothing less in her eyes than profanation. "For," says +she, "you know we must only seek God in His sanctuary, the church."</p> + +<p>Goodness, mercy! in that case some thousands of us would become heathen +if we never found God save inside of a church.</p> + +<p>Does this poor lady not read her Bible, then? Has she not heard the +psalmist's cry: "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there. If I make +my bed in hell, behold, thou art there also; whither shall I flee from +thy presence?"</p> + +<p>Surely, there are a great many places besides the church between heaven +and hell, and even in a theatre we may not flee from His presence.</p> + +<p>But lest the young girl writers should feel abashed over their +expressions of surprise at my conduct, I will show them what good +company they have had.</p> + +<p>A good many years ago a certain famous <!-- Page 195 --><a name='Page_195'></a>scholar and preacher of New York +City called upon me one day. I was absent, attending rehearsal. The +creed of his denomination was particularly objectionable to me, but +having wandered into the big stone edifice on Fourth Avenue one Sunday, +I was so charmed by his clear reasoning, his eloquence, and, above all, +by his evident sincerity, that I continued to go there Sunday after +Sunday.</p> + +<p>In my absence he held converse with my mother as to his regret at +missing me, as to the condition of the weather, as to the age, +attainments, and breed of my small dog, who had apparently been seized +with a burning desire to get into his lap. We afterward found she only +wished to rescue her sweet cracker, which he sat upon.</p> + +<p>In his absent-minded way he then fell into a long silence, his handsome, +scholarly head drooping forward. Finally he sighed and remarked:—</p> + +<p>"She is an actress, your daughter?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 196 --><a name='Page_196'></a>My mother, with lifted brows, made surprised assent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he went on gently, "an actress, surely, for I see my paper +commends her work. I have noted her presence in our congregation, and +her intelligence." (I never sleep in the daytime.) "Our ladies like her, +too; m-m, an actress, and yet takes an interest in her soul's salvation; +wonderful! I—I don't understand! no, I don't understand!" A speech +which did little to endear its maker to the actress's mother, I'm +afraid.</p> + +<p>See how narrowing are some creeds. This reverend gentleman was +personally gentle, kind, considerate, and naturally just; yet, knowing +no actor's life, never having seen the inside of a playhouse, he, +without hesitation, denounced the theatre and declared it the gate of +hell.</p> + +<p>In the amusing correspondence that followed that call, the great +preacher was on the defensive from the first, and in reading <!-- Page 197 --><a name='Page_197'></a>over two +or three letters that, because of blots or errors, had to be recopied, I +am fairly amazed at the temerity of some of my remarks. In one place I +charge him with "standing upon his closed Bible to lift himself above +sinners, instead of going to them with the open volume and teaching them +to read its precious message."</p> + +<p>Perhaps he forgave much to my youth and passionate sincerity; at all +events, we were friends. I had the benefit of his advice when needed, +and, in spite of our being of different church denominations, he it was +who performed the marriage service for my husband and myself.</p> + +<p>So, girl writers, who question me, you see there have been other pebbles +on my beach, and some big ones, too.</p> + +<p>The question, then, that has been put so many times is, "Can there be +any compatibility between religion and the stage?"</p> + +<p>Now had it been a question of church and stage, I should have been +forced to admit <!-- Page 198 --><a name='Page_198'></a>that the exclusive spirit of the first, and the +unending occupation of the second, kept them uncomfortably far apart. +But the question has invariably been as to a compatibility between +religion and the stage. Now I take it that religion means a belief in +God, and the desire and effort to do His will; therefore I see nothing +incompatible between religion and acting. I am a church-woman now; but +for many years circumstances prevented my entering the great army of +Christians who have made public confession of their faith, and received +baptism as an outward and visible sign of a spiritual change. Yet during +those long years without a church I was not without religion. I knew +naught of "justification," of "predestination," of "transubstantiation." +I only knew I must obey the will of God. Here was the Bible; it was the +word of God. There was Christ, beautiful, tender, adorable, and he said: +"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all <!-- Page 199 --><a name='Page_199'></a>thy +soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment; +and the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as +thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."</p> + +<p>Add to these the old Mosaic "Ten," and you have my religious creed +complete. And though it is simple enough for a child to comprehend, it +is difficult for the wisest to give perfect obedience, because it is not +always easy to love that tormenting neighbour, even a little bit, let +alone as well as oneself. How I wish there was some other word to take +the place of "religion." It has been so abused, so misconstrued. +Thousands of people shrink from the very sound of it, believing that to +be religious means the solemn, sour-faced setting of one foot before the +other in a hard and narrow way—the shutting out of all beauty, the +cutting off of all enjoyment. Oh, the pity! the pity! Can't they read?</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 200 --><a name='Page_200'></a>Let all those that seek thee be joyful and glad in thee, and let such +as love thee and thy salvation say always, The Lord be praised." Again, +"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." But it is not always in giving alone +that He loves cheerfulness. Real love and trust in God—which is +religion, mind you—makes the heart feather light, opens the eye to +beauty, the heart to sympathy, the ear to harmony, and all the merriment +and joy of life is but the sweeter for the reverent gratitude one +returns to the Divine Giver.</p> + +<p>One evening, in a greenroom chatter, the word "religious" had in some +way been applied to me, and a certain actress of "small parts," whose +life had been of the bitterness of gall, suddenly broke out with: +"What—what's that? religious—you? Well, I guess not! Why, you've more +spirits in a minute than the rest of us have in a week, and you are as +full of capers as a puppy. I guess I know religion when I see <!-- Page 201 --><a name='Page_201'></a>it. It +makes children loathe the Bible by forcing them to learn a hundred of +its verses for punishment. It pulls down the shades on Sundays, eats +cold meat and pickles, locks up bookcase and piano, and discharges the +girl for walking with her beau. Oh, no! my dear, you're not religious."</p> + +<p>Poor abused word; no wonder it terrifies people.</p> + +<p>How many thousand women, I wonder, are kept from church by their +inability to dress up to the standard of extravagance raised by those +who are more wealthy than thoughtful. Even if the poor woman plucks up +her courage and enters the church, the magnificence of her fortunate +sisters distracts her attention from the service, and fills her with +longing, too often with envy, and surely with humiliation.</p> + +<p>Some years ago a party of ultra-high churchwomen decided to wear only +black during Lent. One of these ladies condescended to know me, and in +speaking of <!-- Page 202 --><a name='Page_202'></a>the matter, she said: "Oh, I think this black garb is more +than a fad, it really operates for good. It is so appropriate, you know, +and—and a constant reminder of that first great fast—the origin of +Lent; and as I walk about in trailing black, I know I look devout, and +that makes me feel devout, and so I pray often, and you're always the +better for praying, even if your dress is at the bottom of it—and, oh, +well, I feel that I am in the picture, when I wear black during Lent."</p> + +<p>But the important thing is that before the Lenten season was half over, +female New York was walking the streets in gentle, black-robed dignity, +and evidently enjoying the keeping of Lent because, to use a theatrical +expression, "it knew it looked the part."</p> + +<p>So much influence do these petted, beloved daughters of the rich +exercise over the many, that I have often wished that, for the sake of +the poorer women, the wealthy ones would set a fashion of extreme +simplicity of costume <!-- Page 203 --><a name='Page_203'></a>for church-going. Every female thing has an +inalienable right to make herself as lovely as possible; and these +graceful, clever women of fashion would know as well how to make +simplicity charming as does the <i>grande dame</i> of France, who is never +more <i>grande dame</i> than when, in plain little bonnet, simple gown, and a +bit of a fichu, she attends her church.</p> + +<p>These bright butterflies have all the long week to flutter their +magnificence in. Their lunches, dinners, teas, dances, games, yachts, +links, race-courses—everyone gives occasion for glorious display. Will +they not, then, be sweetly demure on Sunday for the sake of the +"picture," spare their sisters the agony of craving for like beautiful +apparel? for God has made them so, and they can't help wanting to be +lovely, too.</p> + +<p>Perhaps some day a woman of fashion, simply clad, will turn up her +pretty nose contemptuously at splendour of dress at church service, and +whisper, "What bad form!"</p> + +<p>Then, indeed, as the tide sets her way, <!-- Page 204 --><a name='Page_204'></a>she will realize her power, and +the church will have many more attendants. The very poor woman will not +be so cruelly humiliated, and the wage-earning girl, who puts so much of +her money into finery, will have a more artistic and more suitable model +to follow.</p> + +<p>And you are beginning to think that free silver is not the only mad idea +that has been put forward by a seemingly sane person. Ah, well, it's +sixteen to one, you know, that this is both first and last of the church +dress-reform.</p> + +<p>To those two little maids who so anxiously inquire "if I believe prayer +is of any real service, and why, since my own could not always have been +answered," I can only say, they being in a minority, I have no authority +to answer their question here. Perhaps, though, they may recall the fact +that their loving mothers tenderly refused some of their most passionate +demands in babyhood. And we are yet but children, who often pray +improperly to our Father.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a><h2><!-- Page 205 --><a name='Page_205'></a><i>CHAPTER XVII +<br /><br /> +A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>What is the most unpleasant experience in the daily life of a young +actress?</p> + +<p>Without pause for thought, and most emphatically too, I answer, her +passing unattended through the city streets at night; that is made +unalloyed misery, through terror and humiliation. The backwoods girl +makes her lonely way through the forest by blazed trees, but the way of +the lonely girl through the city streets is marked by blazing blushes.</p> + +<p>It is an infamy that a girl's honesty should not protect her by night as +well as by day. Those hideous hyenas of the midnight streets are never +deceived. By one glance they can <!-- Page 206 --><a name='Page_206'></a>distinguish between a good woman and +those poor wandering ghosts of dead modesty and honour, who flit +restlessly back and forth from alleys dark to bright gas glare; but +bring one of these men to book, and he will declare that "decent women +have no right to be in the streets after nightfall," as though citizens +were to maintain public highways for the sole use one-half the time of +all the evil things that hide from light to creep out at dark and meet +those companions who are fair by day and foul by night.</p> + +<p>Some girls never learn to face the homeward walk with steady nerves, +others grow used to the swift approach, the rapidly spoken word, and +receive them with set, stony face and deaf ears; but oh, the terror and +the shame of it at first! And this horror of the night takes so many +forms that it is hard to say which one is the most revolting—hard to +decide between the vile innuendo whispered by a sober brute or the +roared ribaldry of a drunken beast.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 207 --><a name='Page_207'></a>In one respect I differ from most of my companions in misery, since +they almost invariably fear most the drunkard; while I ground my greater +fear of the sober man upon the simple fact that I can't outrun him as I +can a drunken one, at a pinch. One night, in returning home from a +performance of "Divorce,"—a very long play that brought me into the +street extra late,—a shrieking man flew across my path, and as a second +rushed after him with knife uplifted for a killing blow, his foot caught +in mine, and as he pitched forward the knife sank into his victim's arm +instead of his back as he had intended; and with the cries of "Murder! +Police!" ringing in my ears, I ran as if I were the murderess. These +things are in themselves a pretty high price to pay for being an +actress.</p> + +<p>I had a friend, an ancient lady, a relative of one of our greatest +actors, who, for independence' sake, taught music in her old age. One +night she had played at a concert and <!-- Page 208 --><a name='Page_208'></a>was returning home. Tall and +slight and heavily veiled, she walked alone. Then suddenly appeared a +well-looking young son of Belial, undoubtedly a gentleman by daylight. +He tipped his hat and twirled his mustache; she turned away her head. He +cleared his throat; she seemed quite deaf. He spoke; he called her +"girlie" (the scamp!). She walked the faster; so did he. He protested +she should not walk home alone; she stopped; she spoke, "Will you please +allow me to walk home in peace?"</p> + +<p>But, no, that was just what he would not do, and suddenly she answered, +"Very well, then, I accept your escort, though under protest."</p> + +<a name='Evadne'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "Evadne"</i>]</p> + +<p>Surprised, he walked at her side. The way was long, the silence grew +painful. He ventured to suggest supper as they passed a restaurant; she +gently declined. At last she stopped directly beneath a gas-lamp, and +from her face, with sorrow-hollowed eyes and temples, where everyone of +her seventy-six <!-- Page 209 --><a name='Page_209'></a>years had been stamped in cruel line and crease and +wrinkle, she lifted up the veil and raised her sad old eyes +reproachfully to his. He staggered back, turned red, turned white, +stammered, took off his hat, attempted to apologize, then turned and +fled.</p> + +<p>"And what," I asked, "did you say to him?"</p> + +<p>"Say, say," she repeated; "justice need not be cruel. Why add anything +to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek.</p> + +<p>'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and +well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her +tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient +gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because +fate had left her without a protector.</p> + +<p>Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about; +but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch +your hare and then—"<!-- Page 210 --><a name='Page_210'></a> so, just catch your policeman. But believe me, +they rarely appear together,—your tormentor of women and your +policeman,—unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then +what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing +against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best +defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl.</p> + +<p>Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and +turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a +sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish +that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a +pity <i>I'm</i> not," and disappeared in the dark side street.</p> + +<p>After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home +nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past +experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls—they +<!-- Page 211 --><a name='Page_211'></a>only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety, +though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk +shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then.</p> + +<p>I recall one snowy January night when I was returning home. It was on a +Saturday, and I had played a five-act play twice with but a sandwich for +my dinner, the weather forbidding my going home after the matinee. So +being without change to ride with, hungry and unutterably weary, I +started, bag in hand, to walk up Sixth Avenue. On the east side stood a +certain club house (it stands there yet, by the way), whose peculiar +feature was a vine-hung veranda across its entire front, from which an +unusually long flight of steps led to the sidewalk. Quite unmolested, I +had walked from the stage door almost to this building, when suddenly, +as if he had sprung from the very earth, a man was at my elbow +addressing me, and the fact that he was <!-- Page 212 --><a name='Page_212'></a>not English, and so not +understood, did not in the slightest degree lessen the terror his evil +face inspired. I shrank away from him, and he caught at my wrist. It was +too much. I gave a cry and started to run, when, tall and broad, a man +appeared at the foot of the club-house steps, just ahead of me. Ashamed +to be seen running, I halted, and dropped into a walk again.</p> + +<p>Then with that exaggerated straightening of back and stiffening of knee +adopted by one who tries to walk a floor-crack or chalk-line, the second +man approached me. He was very big, he was silvery grey, and his dignity +was portentous. At every step he struck the pavement a ringing blow with +a splendid malacca cane. Old-fashioned and gold-headed, it looked enough +like its owner to have been his twin brother. He lifted his high silk +hat, and with somewhat florid indignation inquired: "My c-hild, was that +in-nfamous cur annoying you shust now? A-a-h!" he broke off, +flourish<!-- Page 213 --><a name='Page_213'></a>ing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had +hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted +away, across and down the avenue.</p> + +<p>"An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered +unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you +see at this moment, pray, eh? And, by the way, m' child, what in the +devil's name brings yer on the street alone at this hour, say, tell me +that?" and he assumed a most judicial attitude and manner.</p> + +<p>I replied, "I am going home from my work, sir."</p> + +<p>"Y-your w-what?" he growled.</p> + +<p>"My work, sir, at the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he groaned, "and t-that crawlin' r-reptile couldn't let you +pass, you poor little soul, you!"</p> + +<p>Upon my word, I thought he was going to weep over me. Next moment he +turned his collar up with a violence that nearly <!-- Page 214 --><a name='Page_214'></a>upset him, and +exclaimed: "D-don't you be a-fraid. I'll see you safely home. G-go by +yourself? not much you won't! I'll take you to your mother. S-say, +you've got a mother, haven't you? Yes, that's right; every girl's worth +anythin's got a mother. I-I'll take you to her, sure; receive maternal +thanks, a-and all that. Oh, say, boys! look here!" he shouted, and +holding out the big cane in front of me to prevent my passing, he called +to him two other men, who slowly and with almost superhuman caution were +negotiating the snowy steps.</p> + +<p>"Say, Colonel! Judge! come here and help me p-pr'tect this un-fortunate +child." The Judge at that moment sat heavily and unintentionally down on +the bottom step, and the Colonel remarked pleasantly, though a trifle +vaguely, "T-that's the time he hit it"; while the fallen man asked +calmly from his snowy seat, "P-pr-protect what—f-from who?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 215 --><a name='Page_215'></a>This poor ch-i-ld from raging beasts and in-famous scoundrels, Judge," +remarked my bombastic friend.</p> + +<p>"We're gentlemen, my dear; and say, get the Judge up, Colonel, and start +him, and we'll <i>all</i> see her safe home. Damn shame, a la-dy can't walk +in safety, w-without 'er body of able-bodied cit-zens to protect her! +Com'er long, now, child." And he grasped my arm and pushed me gently +forward.</p> + +<p>The Colonel tipped his hat over one eye, gave a military salute, and +wavered back and forth. The Judge muttered something about "Honest woman +against city of New York," and something "and costs," and both fell to +the rear.</p> + +<p>And thus escorted by all these intoxicated old gallants, I made my +mortified way up the avenue, they wobbling and sliding and stammering, +and he who held my arm, I distinctly remember, recited Byron to me, and +told me many times that the Judge was "a p-perfect gentleman, and so was +his wife."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 216 --><a name='Page_216'></a>This startling statement was delivered just as we reached Thirty-second +Street. Like an eel I slipped from his grasp, and whirling about, I said +as rapidly as I could speak, "I'm almost home now. I can see the light +from here, and I can't take you any farther out of your way," and I +darted down the darker street.</p> + +<p>Looking back from my own stoop, I saw the three kindly old sinners +making salutations at the corner. My bombastic friend and the Judge had +their hats off, waving them, and the Colonel saluted with such rigid +propriety, it seems a pity that he was facing the wrong way.</p> + +<p>I laugh, oh, yes, I laugh at the memory, until I think how silvery were +these three wine-muddled old heads, and then I feel "the pity, oh, the +pity of it!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 217 --><a name='Page_217'></a><i>CHAPTER XVIII +<br /><br /> +A BELATED WEDDING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was in a city in the far West that this small incident took place—a +city of the mountains still so young that some of its stateliest +business buildings of stone or marble, with plate-glass, fine furniture, +and electric lighting, were neighboured not merely by shanties, but +actually by tents.</p> + +<p>But though high up in the mountains, the young city was neither too far +nor too high for vice to reach it; and so it came about that a certain +woman, whose gold-bought smiles had become a trifle too mocking and +satirical to be attractive, had come to the <!-- Page 218 --><a name='Page_218'></a>young city and placed +herself at the head of an establishment where, at command, every one +from sunset laughed and was merry, and held out hungry, grasping little +hands for the gold showered upon them—laughed, with weary, pain-filled +eyes—laughed, with stiff, tired lips sometimes—but still laughed till +sunrise—and then, well, who cared what they did <i>then</i>?</p> + +<p>And this woman had waxed rich, and owned valuable property and much +mining stock, and was generous to those who were down on their luck, and +was quick with her revolver—as the man who tried to hold her up on a +lonely road found out to his sorrow.</p> + +<p>Now to this city there came a certain actress, and the papers and the +theatre bills announced a performance of the old French play of +"Camille." The wealthy Madame Elize, as she styled herself, had heard +and read much of both actress and play, and knew that it was almost a +nightly occurrence for men to shed tears over two of the scenes, <!-- Page 219 --><a name='Page_219'></a>while +women wept deliciously through the whole play.</p> + +<p>She determined that she would go to that performance, though the manager +assured the public, in large letters, that no one of her order could +possibly be admitted. And she declared "that she could sit out that or +any other play without tears. That no amount of play-acting could move +her, unless it was to laughter."</p> + +<p>And so the night came, and the best seat in the best box in all that +crowded theatre was occupied by a woman of forty-five, who looked about +thirty-eight, who, but for the fixed, immovable colour in her cheeks and +her somewhat too large and too numerous diamonds, might from her black +silk, rich dark furs, and her dignified bearing have passed for an +honest woman.</p> + +<p>She watched the first act with a somewhat supercilious manner, but the +second act found her wiping her eyes—very cautiously; there was that +unvarying colour to think of. The <!-- Page 220 --><a name='Page_220'></a>third act found her well back in the +shadow of the box curtain, and the last act she watched with a face of +such fixed determination as to attract the wondering comment of several +of the actors.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell, one of them remarked, "I'd like to know what that +woman will do in the next few hours?"</p> + +<p>This is what she did. Keeping back till the house was nearly empty, she +left the theatre alone. Then she engaged a carriage—of which there were +very, very few in that city of the mountains, where the people did most +of their going and coming on horseback—and had herself conveyed to her +home, ablaze with light and full of laughter; and bidding the driver +wait, she entered quietly and went swiftly to her own apartment, where a +man in slippers and dressing-gown sat in a big armchair, sleeping over +the evening paper.</p> + +<p>She lost no time, but aroused him at once, shaking him by the shoulder, +and in cold, curt tones ordered him "to rise and dress for the street, +and to go with her."</p> + +<a name='Camille'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in the 1st Act of "Camille"</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 221 --><a name='Page_221'></a>But he objected, asking: "Why the deuce he should go out that bitter +night? And was she a fool, or did she take him for one?"</p> + +<p>Upon which she had so savagely ordered him "to get on his boots, his +coat, and overcoat" that the sleepiness had vanished from his sharp +eyes, and he had exclaimed, "What is it, Kate? what's happened to you?"</p> + +<p>And she answered: "I've had a blow—no, don't reach for your gun. I +don't mean that—but, Jim, it hurts. (Here, let me tie that for you.) +I've had a blow straight at the heart, and a woman gave it—God bless +her! (Can't you brush your hair up over that thin place? Jim—why, Jim, +upon my soul, you're grey!) Oh, hurry! here, take your fur coat—you'll +need it. Come now—no, I won't tell till we're outside this house. +Come—on the quiet, now—come," and taking him by the arm she dragged +him down the hall and stairs, and so outside the front door.</p> + +<p>There she stopped. The man shivered at <!-- Page 222 --><a name='Page_222'></a>the cold, but kept his gleaming +eyes fastened on her white face, "Well?" he said.</p> + +<p>She stood looking up at the glory of the sky above her, where the stars +glittered with extraordinary brilliancy, and in an abstracted tone she +observed, "There's the 'Dipper.'"</p> + +<p>He watched her still silently; she went on: "Do you remember, Jim, when +I taught school down in Westbury, how we used to look at the 'Dipper' +together, because you didn't dare speak—of anything else? You got seven +dollars a week, then, and I—oh, Jim! why in God's name <i>didn't</i> you +speak? Then I might never have come to this." She struck the lintel of +the door passionately, but went right on: "Yes—yes, I'm going to tell +you, and you've got to make a decision, right here, <i>now</i>! You'll think +I'm mad, I know; but see here now, I've got that woman's dying eyes +looking into mine; I've got that woman's voice in my ears, and her words +burnt into my living heart! I'll tell <!-- Page 223 --><a name='Page_223'></a>you by and by, perhaps, what +those words are, but first, my proposal: you are free to accept it, you +are free to refuse it, or you are free to curse me for a drivelling +idiot; but look you here, man, if you <i>laugh</i> at it, I swear I'll <i>kill</i> +you! Now, will you help me out of this awful life? Jim, will you get +into that carriage and take me to the nearest minister and marry me, or +will you take this 'wad' and go down that street and out of my life +forever?"</p> + +<p>In the pause that followed they looked hard into one another's eyes. +Then the man answered in six words. Pushing away the hand that offered +him a great tight-rolled mass of paper money, he said, "Put that +away—now, come on," and they entered the carriage, and drove to the +home of a minister. There a curious thing happened. They had answered +satisfactorily the reverend gentleman's many questions before he quite +realized <i>who</i> the woman was. When he did recognize her, he refused to +perform <!-- Page 224 --><a name='Page_224'></a>the ceremony, and with words of contemptuous condemnation +literally drove them from the house, and with his ecclesiastical hand +banged the door after them.</p> + +<p>They visited another minister, and their second experience differed from +their first in two points,—the gentleman was quicker in his recognition +and refusal, and refrained from banging the door. And so they drove up +and down and across the city, till at last they stood at the carriage +door and looked helpless at each other. Then the man said, "That's the +last one, Kate," and the woman answered, "Yes, I know—I know." She drew +a long, hard breath that was not far from a sob, and added, "Yes, +they've downed me; but it wasn't a fair game, Jim, for they've played +with marked cards."</p> + +<p>She had entered the carriage when the driver with the all-pervading +knowledge and unlimited assurance of the Western hackman remarked +genially: "Madame Elize, there's another gospel-sharp out on the edge of +the <!-- Page 225 --><a name='Page_225'></a>town. He's poorer than Job's turkey, and his whole dorgon'd little +scantlin' church ain't bigger than one of them Saratogy trunks, but his +people just swear by him. Shall I take you out there?"</p> + +<p>Madame Elize nodded an assent, and once more they started. It was a long +drive. The horses strained up killing grades, sending out on the cold +air columns of steam from their dilating nostrils. The driver beat first +one hand and then the other upon his knees, and talked amicably if +profanely to his horses; but inside the carriage there was utter +silence.</p> + +<p>At last they stopped before a poor, cold-looking little cottage, and +entering made their wishes known to a blue-eyed, tall young man, with +thin, sensitive lips, who listened with grave attention. He knew +precisely who and what she was, and very gently told her he would have +to ask one unpleasant question, "Was the man at her side acquainted with +her past, or was he a <!-- Page 226 --><a name='Page_226'></a>stranger who was being deceived—victimized, in +fact?"</p> + +<p>And Kate, with shining eyes, turned and said: "Tell him, Jim, how for +six honest, innocent years we were friends. Then tell him how for +fifteen years we've been partners in life. Tell him whether you know me, +Jim, or whether you're victimized."</p> + +<p>And then the young minister had told them he was proud and thankful to +clasp their hands and start them on their new path, with God's blessing +on them. And they were married at last; and as they drove away, they +noted the strange outlines of the mountains, where they reared their +stupendous bulk against the star-sown sky. A sense of awe came upon +them—of smallness, of helplessness. Instinctively they clasped hands, +and presently the woman said: "Oh, Jim, the comfort of a wedding ring! +It circles us about so closely, and keeps out all the rest of the +world."</p> + +<p>And Jim stooped his head and kissed her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a><h2><!-- Page 227 --><a name='Page_227'></a><i>CHAPTER XIX +<br /><br /> +SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It is not often, I fancy, that one defends one's hero or friend from +himself. Yet that about describes what I am doing now for the famous +Salvini. An acquaintance of mine, a man self-contained and dignified, +who was reading the other day, startled me by muttering aloud, "Oh, that +mine enemy would write a book!" and a moment later, flinging the volume +from him, he cried: "Where were his friends? Why did they permit him to +write of himself?"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" I exclaimed in bewilderment, "where were whose friends? +Of whom are you speaking, and why are you so excited?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 228 --><a name='Page_228'></a>Oh," he answered impatiently, "it's the disappointment! I judged the +man by his splendid work; but look at that book—the personal pronoun +forms one solid third of it. I know it does!" and he handed me the +volume in question.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, as I glanced at the title,—"Autobiography of Tommaso +Salvini,"—"no matter what the book may say, Tommaso Salvini is a mighty +actor." And then I began to read. At first I was a bit taken aback. I +had thought Mr. Macready considered himself pretty favourably, had made +a heavy demand on the I's and my's in his book; but the bouquets he +presented to himself were modest little nosegays when compared with the +gorgeous floral set pieces provided <i>ad libitum</i> for "Signor Salvini" by +Signor Salvini.</p> + +<p>Then presently I began to smile at the open honesty of this +self-appreciation, at the naïve admiration he expresses for his figure, +his voice, his power. "After all," I said,<!-- Page 229 --><a name='Page_229'></a> "when the whole civilized +world has for years and years affirmed and reaffirmed that he is the +greatest actor living, is it strange that he should come to believe the +world?"</p> + +<p>"But," growled my friend, "why could he not be content with the world's +statement? Why had he no reticence? Look at these declarations: that no +words can describe his power, that everybody wished to know him, that +everybody wished to claim his friendship, that everybody made it his +boast to be seen in his company, etc."</p> + +<p>"Well," I answered, "you certainly cannot doubt the truth of the +assertions. I believe every one of them. You see, you are not making any +allowance for temperament or early environment. Those who are humbly +born in a kingdom are lifted by a monarch's praise to the very pinnacle +of pride and joy and superiority. Think of the compliments paid this man +by royalty. Think, too, of his hot blood, his quick imagination. You +can't expect calm self-restraint from him; and just <!-- Page 230 --><a name='Page_230'></a>let me tell you, +for your comfort, that this 'book Salvini' is utterly unlike the kindly +gentleman who is the real, everyday Salvini."</p> + +<p>My friend looked at me a moment, then shaking hands he added gravely: +"Thank you. The great actor goes upon his pedestal again, to my own +satisfaction; but—but—don't think I care for this book. I'll wait till +some one else tells of his triumphs and his gifts," and laying it upon +the table he took his departure.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing what a misleading portrait Signor Salvini has drawn of +himself. I worked with him, and I found him a gentleman of modest, even +retiring, disposition and most courtly manners. He was remarkably +patient at the long rehearsals which were so trying to him because his +company spoke a language he could not understand.</p> + +<p>The love of acting and the love of saving were veritable passions with +him, and many were the amusing stories told of his economies; but, in +spite of his personal frugality, <!-- Page 231 --><a name='Page_231'></a>he was generous in the extreme to his +dear ones.</p> + +<p>When I had got over my first amazement at receiving a proposal to act +with the great Italian, Mr. Chizzola, his manager, stated terms, and +hastened to say that a way had been found by which the two names could +be presented without either taking preference of the other on the bill, +and that the type would of course be the same in both—questions I +should never have given a thought to, but over which my manager stood +ready to shed his heart's blood. And when I said that I should willingly +have gone on the bills as "supporting Signor Salvini," I thought he was +going to rend his garments, and he indignantly declared that such talk +was nothing less than heresy when coming from a securely established +star.</p> + +<p>At one of our rehearsals for the "Morte Civile," a small incident +occurred that will show how gracious Signor Salvini could be. Most +stars, having the "business" of their <!-- Page 232 --><a name='Page_232'></a>play once settled upon, seem to +think it veritable sacrilege to alter it, no matter how good the reason +for an alteration; and a suggestion offered to a star is generally +considered an impertinence. In studying my part of Rosalia, the +convict's wife, a very pretty bit of "business" occurred to my mind. I +was to wear the black cross so commonly seen on the breast of the Roman +peasant women, and once at an outbreak of Conrad's, I thought if I +raised that cross without speaking, and he drooped before it, it would +be effective and quite appropriate, as he was supposed to be +superstitiously devout. I mentioned it to young Salvini, who cried +eagerly, "Did you tell my father—did he see it?"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" I answered, "do you suppose I would presume to suggest +'business' to a Salvini? Besides, could anything new be found for him in +a play he has acted for twenty years? No, I have not told your father, +nor do I intend to take such a liberty."</p> + +<p>But next morning, when we came to that <!-- Page 233 --><a name='Page_233'></a>scene, Signor Salvini held up +his hand for a halt in the rehearsal, called for Alessandro, and, +bidding him act as interpreter, said, smiling pleasantly, to me, "Now +zee i-dee please you, madame?" for young Alessandro had betrayed my +confidence. There was a mocking sparkle in Salvini's blue eyes, but he +was politely ready to hear and reject "zee i-dee." I felt hot and +embarrassed, but I stood by my guns, and placing Alessandro in the +chair, I made him represent Conrad; and when he came to the furious +outburst, I swiftly lifted the cross and held it before his eyes till +his head sank upon my breast. But in a twinkling, with the cry, "No—no! +I show!" Salvini plucked Alessandro out of the seat, flung himself into +it, resumed the scene, and as I lifted the cross before his convulsed +features, his breath halted, slowly he lifted his face, when, divining +his meaning, I pressed the cross gently upon his trembling lips, and +with a sob his head fell weakly upon my breast. It was beautifully done; +<!-- Page 234 --><a name='Page_234'></a>even the actors were moved. Then he spoke rapidly to his son, who +translated to me thus: "How have I missed this 'business' all these +years? It is good—we will keep it always—tell madame that." And so, +courteously and without offence, this greatest of actors accepted a +suggestion from a newcomer in his play.</p> + +<p>A certain English actor, who had been with him two or three seasons, +made a curious little mistake night after night, season after season, +and no one seemed to heed it. Of course Salvini, not speaking English, +could not be expected to detect the error. Where the venomous priest +should humbly bow himself out with the veiled threat, "This may yet end +in a trial—and—conviction!" the actor invariably said, "This may yet +end in a trial of convictions!" Barely three nights had passed when +Signor Salvini said to his son, "Why does Miss Morris smile at that +man's exit? It is not funny. Ask why she smiles." And he was greatly put +out with his actor <!-- Page 235 --><a name='Page_235'></a>when he learned the cause of my amusement. A very +observant man, you see.</p> + +<p>He is a thinking actor; he knows <i>why</i> he does a thing, and he used to +be very intolerant of some of the old-school "tricks of the trade." +Mind, when I was acting with him, he had come to understand fairly well +the English of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary, and if he was quite +calm and not on exhibition in any way, he could speak it a little and +quite to the point, as you will see. He particularly disliked the old, +old trick called "taking the stage," that is, when a good speech has +been made, the actor at its end crosses the stage, changing his position +for no reason on earth save to add to his own importance. It seemed +Salvini had tried through his stage manager to break up the wretched +habit; but one morning he saw an actor end his speech at the centre of +the stage, and march in front of every one to the extreme right-hand +corner. A curl came to the great actor's lip, then he said inquiringly,<!-- Page 236 --><a name='Page_236'></a> +"What for?" The actor stammered, "I—I—it's my cross, you know—the end +of my speech."—"Y-e-es," sweetly acquiesced the star. "Y-e-es, you +cross, I see—but what for?" The actor hesitated. "You do <i>so</i>," went on +Salvini, giving a merciless imitation of the swelling chest and stage +stride of the guilty one, as he had crossed from centre down to extreme +right. "You do so—but for <i>why</i>? A-a-ah!" Suddenly he seemed to catch +an idea. "A-a-ah! is it that you have zee business with zee people in +zee box? A-a-ah! you come spik to zose people? No? Not for that you +come? You have <i>no</i> reason for come here, you say? Then, for God's sake, +stay centre till you <i>have</i> a reason!"</p> + +<p>It was an awful lesson, but what delicious acting. The simple, earnest +inquiry, the delighted catching at an idea, the following +disappointment, and the final outburst of indignant authority—he never +did anything better for the public.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 237 --><a name='Page_237'></a>During the short time we acted together but one cloud, a tiny, tiny one +of misunderstanding, rose between us, but according to reports made by +lookers-on a good deal of lightning came out of it. Of course not +understanding each other's language, we had each to watch the other as a +cat would watch a mouse, in order to take our cues correctly. At one +point I took for mine his sudden pause in a rapidly delivered speech, +and at that pause I was to speak instantly. We got along remarkably +well, for his soul was in his work, and I gave every spark of +intelligence I had in me to the effort to satisfy him; so by the fifth +or sixth performance we both felt less anxiety about the catching of our +cues than we had at first. On the night I speak of, some one on +Salvini's side of the stage greatly disturbed him by loud whispering in +the entrance. He was nervous and excitable, the annoyance (of which I +was unconscious) threw him out of his stride, so to speak. He glanced +off warningly and snapped his fingers.<!-- Page 238 --><a name='Page_238'></a> No use; on went the giggling and +whispering. At last, in the very middle of a speech, wrath overcame him. +He stopped dead. That sudden stop was my cue. Instantly I spoke. Good +heaven! he whirled upon me like a demon. I understood that a mistake had +been made, but it was not mine. I knew my cue when I got it. The humble +Rosalia was forgotten. With hot resentment my head went up and back with +a fling, and I glared savagely back at him. A moment we stood in silent +rage. Then his face softened, he laid the fingers of his left hand on +his lips, extending his right with that unspeakably deprecating +upturning of the palm known only to the foreign-born. An informing +glance of the eye toward the right, followed by a faint "<i>Pardon</i>!" was +enough. I dropped back to meek Rosalia, the scene was resumed, the cloud +had passed. But one man who had been looking on said: "By Jove! you +know, you two looked like a pair of blue-eyed devils, just ready to rend +each <!-- Page 239 --><a name='Page_239'></a>other. Talk about black-eyed rage; it's the lightning of the blue +eyes that sears every time."</p> + +<p>I had been quite wild to see Signor Salvini on his first visit to +America, and at last I caught up with him in Chicago, and was so happy +as to find my opportunity in an extra matinee. The play was "Othello," +and during the first act he looked not only a veritable Moor, but, what +was far greater, he seemed to be Shakespeare's own "Moor of Venice." The +splendid presence, the bluff, soldierly manner, the open, honest look, +as the "round unvarnished tale" was delivered, made one understand, +partly at least, how "that maiden never bold, a spirit so still and +quiet," had come at last to see "<i>Othello's</i> visage <i>in his mind</i>, and +to his honour and his valiant parts to consecrate her fortune and her +soul!" Through all the noble scene, through all the soldierly dignity +and candid speech, there was that tang of roughness that so naturally +clung to the man whose <!-- Page 240 --><a name='Page_240'></a>life from his seventh year had been passed in +the "tented field," and who himself declared, "Rude am I in speech, and +little bless'd with the set phrase of peace."</p> + +<p>In short, Salvini was a delight to eye and ear, and satisfied both +imagination and judgment in that first act. Like many people who are +much alone, I have the habit of speaking sometimes to myself—a habit I +repented of that day, yes, verily I did; for when, at Cyprus, Othello +entered and fiercely swept into his swarthy arms the pale loveliness of +Desdemona, 'twas like a tiger's spring upon a lamb. The bluff and honest +soldier, the English Shakespeare's Othello, was lost in an Italian +Othello. Passion choked, his gloating eyes burned with the mere lust of +the "sooty Moor" for that white creature of Venice. It was revolting, +and with a shiver I exclaimed aloud, "Ugh, you splendid brute!" +Realizing my fault, I drew quickly back into the shadow of the curtain; +but a man's rough voice had answered in<!-- Page 241 --><a name='Page_241'></a>stantly, "Make it a <i>beast</i>, +ma'am, and I'm with you!" I was cruelly mortified.</p> + +<a name='Salvini'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Tommaso Salvini</i>]</p> + +<p>But there was worse to happen that day. The leading lady, Signora +Piamonti, an admirable actress, was the Desdemona. She played the part +remarkably well, and was a fairly attractive figure to the eye, if one +excepted her foot. It was exceptionally long and shapeless, and was most +vilely shod. Her dresses, too, all tipped up in the front, unduly +exposing the faulty members; many were the comments made, and often the +query followed, "Why doesn't she get some American shoes?" I am sorry to +say that some of our daily papers even were ungracious enough to refer +to that physical defect, when only her work should have been considered +and criticised.</p> + +<p>The actors had reached the last act. The bed stood in the centre of a +shallow alcove, heavily curtained. These hangings were looped up at the +beginning of the act, and were supposed to fall to the floor, completely +<!-- Page 242 --><a name='Page_242'></a>concealing the bed and its occupant after the murder. The actor had +long before become again Shakespeare's Othello. We had seen him +tortured, racked, and played upon by the malignant Iago; seen him, while +perplexed in the extreme, irascible, choleric, sullen, morose; but now, +as with tense nerves we waited for the catastrophe, he was truly +formidable. The great tragedy moved on. Desdemona's piteous entreaties +had been choked in her slim throat, the smothering pillow held in place +with merciless strength. Then at Emilia's disconcerting knock and demand +for admission, Othello had let down and closely drawn the two curtains. +But alas and alack a day! though they were thick and rich and wide, they +failed to reach the floor by a good foot's breadth—a fact unnoticed by +the star. You may not be an actor; but really when you add to that +twelve or fourteen-inch space the steep incline of the stage—why, you +can readily understand how advisable it was for the dead<!-- Page 243 --><a name='Page_243'></a> Desdemona that +day to stay dead until the play was over.</p> + +<p>Majestically Othello was striding down to the door, where Emilia was +knocking for admittance, when there came that long in-drawn breath—that +"a-a-h!" that from the auditorium always means mischief—and a sudden +bobbing of heads this way and that in the front seats. In an instant the +great actor felt the broken spell, knew he had lost his hold upon the +people—but why? He went on steadily, and then, just as you have seen a +field of wheat surged in one wave by the wind, I saw the closely packed +people in that wide parquet sway forward in a great gust of laughter. +With quick, experienced eye I scanned first Othello's garb from top to +toe, and finding no unseemly rent or flaw of any kind to provoke +laughter, I next swept the stage. Coming to the close-drawn curtains, I +saw—heavens! No wonder the people laughed. The murdered Desdemona had +risen, was evidently sitting on the side of <!-- Page 244 --><a name='Page_244'></a>the bed; for beneath the +curtains her dangling feet alone were plainly seen, kicking cheerfully +back and forth. Such utterly unconscious feet they were that I think the +audience would not have laughed again had they kept still; but all at +once they began a "heel-and-toe step," and people rocked back and forth, +trying to suppress their merriment. And then—oh, Piamonti!—swiftly the +toe of the right foot went to the back of the left ankle and scratched +vigorously. Restraint was ended, every one let go and laughed and +laughed. From the box I saw in the entrance the outspread fingers, the +hoisted shoulders, the despairingly shaken heads of the Italian actors, +who could find no cause for the uproar. Salvini behaved perfectly in +that, disturbed, distressed, he showed no sign of anger, but maintained +his dignity through all, even when in withdrawing the curtains and +disclosing Desdemona dead once more the incomprehensible laughter again +broke out. But late as it was and <!-- Page 245 --><a name='Page_245'></a>short the time left him, he got the +house in hand again, again wove his charm, and sent the people away sick +and shuddering over his too real self-murder.</p> + +<p>As I was leaving the box I met one connected with the management of the +theatre, who, furious over the <i>faux pas</i>, was roughly denouncing the +actress, whom he blamed entirely, and I took it upon myself to suggest +that he pour a vial or two of his wrath upon the heads of his own +property man and the stage manager, who had grossly neglected their duty +in failing to provide curtains of the proper length. And I chuckled with +satisfaction as I saw him plunge behind the scenes, calling angrily upon +some invisible Jim to come forth. I had acted as a sort of lightning-rod +for a sister actress.</p> + +<p>Salvini's relations with his son were charming, though it sounded a bit +odd to hear the stalwart young man calling him "papa." Alessandro had +dark eyes and black hair, so naturally admired the opposite colouring, +and<!-- Page 246 --><a name='Page_246'></a> I never heard him speak of his father's English second wife without +some reference to her fairness. It would be "my blond mamma," "my little +fair mamma," "my father's pretty English wife," or "before my little +blond mamma died." He felt the "mamma" and "papa" jarred on American +ears, and often corrected himself; but when Signor Salvini himself once +told me a story of his father, he referred to him constantly as "my +papa," just as he does in this book of his that makes him seem so +egotistical and so determined to find at all costs the vulnerable spot, +the weak joint in the armour, of all other actors.</p> + +<p>Certainly he could not have been an egotist in the bosom of his family. +A friend in London went to call upon his young wife, his "white lily." +She was showing the house to her visitor, when, pausing suddenly before +a large portrait of her famous husband, she became silent, her uplifted +eyes filled, her lips smiled tremulously, she gave <!-- Page 247 --><a name='Page_247'></a>a little gasp, and +whispered, "Oh, he's almost like God to me!"</p> + +<p>The friend, startled, even shocked, was about to reprove her, but a +glance into the innocent face showed no sacrilege had been meant, only +she had never been honoured, protected, happy, before—and some women +worship where they love. Could an egotist win and keep such affection +and gratitude as that?</p> + +<p>Among those who complain of his opinionated book I am amused to find one +who fairly exhausted himself in praise, not to say flattery, of this +same Salvini. It is very diverting to the mere looker-on, when the world +first proclaims some man a god, bowing down and worshipping him, and +then anathematizes him if he ventures to proclaim his own godship. I +have my quarrel with the book, I confess it. I am sorry he does not show +how he did his tremendous work, show the nature of those sacrifices he +made. How one would enjoy a word-picture of the place where he obtained +his humble meals in <!-- Page 248 --><a name='Page_248'></a>those earliest days of struggle; who shared them, +and in what spirit they were discussed, grave or gay! Italian life is +apt to be picturesque, and these minor circumstances mean much when one +tries to get at the daily life of a man. But Salvini has given us merely +splendid results, without showing us <i>how</i> he obtained them. Yet what a +lesson the telling would have been for some of our indolent actors! Why, +even at the zenith of his career, Salvini attended personally to duties +most actors leave to their dressers. He used to be in his dressing-room +hours before the overture was on, and in an ancient gown he would polish +his armour, his precious weapons or ornaments, arrange his wigs, examine +every article of dress he would require that night, and consequently he +never had mishaps. He used to say: "The man there? Oh, yes, he can pack +and lock and strap and check, but only an actor can understand the care +of these artistic things. What I do myself is well <!-- Page 249 --><a name='Page_249'></a>done; this work is +part of my profession; there is no shame in doing it. And all the time I +work, I think—I think of the part—till I have all forgot—<i>all</i> but +just that part's self."</p> + +<p>And yet, O dear, these are the things he does not put in his book. When +he was all dressed and ready for the performance, Salvini would go into +a dark place and walk and walk and walk; sometimes droopingly, sometimes +with martial tread. Once, I said, "You walk far, signor?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, signorina</i>," he made answer, then eagerly, "<i>I walk me into him!</i>" +And while the great man was "walking into the character," the actors who +supported him smoked cigarettes at the stage door until the dash for +dressing room and costume.</p> + +<p>Some women scold because he has not given pictures of the great people +whom he met. "Why," they ask, "did he not describe Crown Princess +Victoria" (the late Empress Frederick) "at least—how she looked, what +<!-- Page 250 --><a name='Page_250'></a>she wore? Such portraits would be interesting." But Salvini was not +painting portraits, not even his own—truly. He was giving a list of his +triumphs; and if he has shown self-appreciation, he was at least +perfectly honest. There is no hypocrisy about him. If he knew Uriah +Heep, he did not imitate him; for in no chapter has he proclaimed +himself "'umble." If one will read Signor Salvini's book, remembering +that the pæans of a world have been sung in his honour, and that he +really had no superior in his artistic life, I think the I's and my's +will seem simply natural.</p> + +<p>However he may have been admired in other characters, I do truly believe +that only those who have seen him in "Othello" and "Morte Civile" can +fully appreciate the marvellous art of the actor. I carry in my mind two +pictures of him,—Othello, the perfect animal man, in his splendid +prime, where, in a very frenzy of conscious strength, he dashes Iago to +the earth, man and soldier lost in the <!-- Page 251 --><a name='Page_251'></a>ferocity of a jungle male beast, +jealously mad—an awful picture of raging passion. The other, Conrad, +after the escape from prison; a strong man broken in spirit, wasted with +disease, a great shell of a man—one who is legally dead, with the +prison pallor, the shambling walk, the cringing manner, the furtive +eyes. But oh, that piteous salute at that point when the priest +dismisses him, and the wrecked giant, timid as a child, humbly, +deprecatingly touches the priest's hand with his finger-tips and then +kisses them devoutly! I see that picture yet, through tears, just as I +saw for the first time that illustration of supreme humility and +veneration.</p> + +<p>Oh, never mind a little extravagance with personal pronouns! A beloved +father, a very thorough gentleman, but above all else the greatest actor +of his day. There is but the one Salvini, and how can he help knowing +it? So to book and author—ready! <i>Viva Salvini!</i></p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX'></a><h2><!-- Page 252 --><a name='Page_252'></a><i>CHAPTER XX +<br /><br /> +FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>The circus season was over, the animals had gone into comfortable winter +quarters, while the performers, less fortunate than the beasts, were +scattered far and near, "some in rags and some in tags, and some" (a +very few) "in velvet gowns." But one small group had found midwinter +employment, a party of Japanese men and women, who were jugglers, +contortionists, and acrobats; and as their work was pretty as well as +novel, they found a place on the programme of some of the leading +vaudeville theatres.</p> + +<p>They were in a large Western city. Behind the curtain their retiring +manners, their <!-- Page 253 --><a name='Page_253'></a>exquisite cleanliness, their grave and gentle +politeness, made them favourites with the working forces of the theatre, +while before the curtain the brilliant, graceful precision with which +they carried out their difficult, often dangerous, performance won them +the high favour of the public.</p> + +<p>On that special day the matinee was largely attended, the theatre being +filled, even to the upper circles, as at night. Smilingly the audience +had watched the movements of the miniature men and women in their +handsome native costumes, and with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" had seen them +emerge from those robes, already arrayed for acrobatic work, in suits of +black silk tights with trunks and shoulder and wrist trimmings of red +velvet fairly stiffened with gold embroideries; and then came the act +the people liked best, because it contained the element of danger, +because in its performance a young girl and a little lad smilingly +risked life and limb to entertain them.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 254 --><a name='Page_254'></a>The two young things had climbed like cats up to the swinging bars, +high up, where the heat had risen from a thousand gas lights, and the +blood thundered in their ears, and the pulses on their temples beat like +hammers. So high, that looking down through the quivering, bluish mist, +the upturned faces of the people merged together and became like the +waters of a pale, wide pool. Their work was well advanced. With +clocklike precision they had obeyed, ever-smilingly obeyed, the orders +conveyed to them by the sharp tap of the fan their trainer held, though +to the audience the two young forms glittering in black and scarlet and +gold, poising and fluttering there, were merely playing in midair like a +pair of tropical birds.</p> + +<p>They were beginning their great feat, in which danger was so evident +that women often cried out in terror and some covered their eyes and +would not look at all—the music even had sunken to a sort of tremor of +fear. They were for the moment hang<!-- Page 255 --><a name='Page_255'></a>ing head downward from their +separate bars, when across the stillness came the ominous sound of +cracking, splintering wood; afterward it was known that the rung of a +chair in an upper private box had broken, but then,—but <i>then</i>! the +sound was close to the swaying girl's ear!</p> + +<p>Believing it was her bar that was breaking, her strained nerves tore +free from all control! Driven by fear, she made a mad leap out into +space, reaching frantically for the little brown hands that a half +second later would have been ready for her, with life and safety in +their tenacious grasp.</p> + +<p>To those who do their work in space and from high places, the distance +between life and death, between time and eternity, is often measured by +half seconds. Little Omassa had leaped too soon, the small brown hands +with power to save were not extended. She grasped the empty air, gave a +despairing cry, and as she whirled downward, had barely time to realize +that the sun had gone black <!-- Page 256 --><a name='Page_256'></a>out in the sky, and that the world with its +shrieking millions was thundering to its end, when the awful crash came.</p> + +<p>There were shouts and shrieks, tears and groans, and here and there +helpless fainting. Ushers rushed from place to place, the police +appeared suddenly. The Japanese, silent, swift, self-controlled, were +moving their paraphernalia that the curtain might be lowered, were +stretching a small screen about the inert, fallen figure, were bringing +a rug to lift her on, and their faces were like so many old, <i>old</i> ivory +masks.</p> + +<p>Tom McDermott, in his blue coat, stood by the silent little figure +waiting for the rug and for the coming of the doctor, and groaned, "On +her face, too—and she a girl child!"</p> + +<p>Tom had seen three battle-fields and many worse sights, but none of them +had misted his eyes as did this little glittering, broken heap, and he +turned his face away and muttered, "If she'd only keep quiet!" for truly +<!-- Page 257 --><a name='Page_257'></a>it was dreadful to see the long shudders that ran over the silent, +huddled thing, to see certain red threads broadening into very rivulets. +At last the ambulance, then the all-concealing curtain, the reviving +music, a song, a pretty dance, and <i>presto</i>, all was forgotten!</p> + +<p>When Omassa opened her eyes, her brain took up work just where it had +left off; therefore she was astonished to find the sun shining, for had +she not seen the sun go out quite black in the sky? Yet here it was so +bright, and she was—was, where? The room was small and clean, oh, +clean! like a Japanese house, and almost as empty. Could it be? But no, +this bed was American, and then why was she so heavy? What great weight +was upon her? She could not move one little bit, and oh, my! <i>what</i> was +it she could faintly see beyond and below her own nose—was it shadow? +Surely she could not see her own <i>lip</i>? She smiled at that, and the +movement wrung a cry of agony from her—when, like <!-- Page 258 --><a name='Page_258'></a>magic, a face was +bending over her, so kind and gentle, and then a joyous voice cried to +some one in the next room, "This little girl, not content with being +alive, sir, has her senses—is she not a marvel?"</p> + +<p>And with light, delicate touch the stranger moistened the distended, +immovable lip poor Omassa had dimly seen, through which her lower teeth +had been driven in her fall, and in answer to her pleading, questioning +glances at her own helpless body, told her she was encased in plaster +now, but by and by she would be released, and now she was to be very +quiet and try to sleep. And then she smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the +white quilt, shut out the sunlight, and, smiling kindly back at her, +left Omassa, who obediently fell asleep—partly because her life was one +of obedience, and partly because there was nothing else to do.</p> + +<p>And then began the acquaintance between Mrs. Helen Holmes, nurse, and +Omassa, Japanese acrobat. The other nurses teased<!-- Page 259 --><a name='Page_259'></a> Helen Holmes about +her pet patient, saying she was only a commonplace, Japanese child +woman; but Mrs. Holmes would exclaim, "If you could only see her light +up and glow!"</p> + +<p>And so they came to calling Omassa "the lantern," and would jestingly +ask "when she was going to be lighted up"; but there came a time when +Mrs. Holmes knew the magic word that would light the flame and make the +lantern glow, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire; like opal and +tourmaline.</p> + +<p>The child suffered long and terribly; both arms were broken, and in +several places, also her little finger, a number of ribs, her +collar-bone, and one leg, while cuts were simply not counted. During her +fever-haunted nights she babbled Japanese for hours, with one single +English name appearing and reappearing almost continually,—the name of +Frank; and when she called that name it was like the cooing of a pigeon, +and the down-drooping corners of her grave <!-- Page 260 --><a name='Page_260'></a>mouth curled upward into +smiles. She spoke English surprisingly well, as the other members of the +troupe only knew a very little broken English; and had she not placed +the emphasis on the wrong syllable, her speech, would have been almost +perfect.</p> + +<p>Generally she was silent and sad and unsmiling, but grateful, +passionately grateful to her "nurse-lady," as she called Mrs. Holmes; +yet when, that kind woman stooped to kiss her once, Omassa shrank from +the caress with such repugnance as deeply to wound her, until the +little Japanese had explained to her the national abhorrence of kissing, +assuring her over and over again that even "the Japan ma'ma not kiss +little wee baby she love."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Holmes ceased to wonder at the girl's sadness when she found she +was absolutely alone in the world: no father, no mother; no, no sister, +no brother, "no what you call c-cousine?—no nothing, nobody have I got +what belong to me," she said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 261 --><a name='Page_261'></a>One morning, as her sick-room toilet was completed, Mrs. Holmes said +lightly:—</p> + +<p>"Omassa, who is Frank?" and then fairly jumped at the change in the +ivory-tinted, expressionless face. Her long, narrow eyes glowed, a pink +stain came on either cheek, she raised herself a little on her best arm, +eagerly she cried, "You know him—oh, you know Frank?"</p> + +<p>Regretfully Mrs. Holmes answered, "No, dear, I don't know him."</p> + +<p>"But," persisted Omassa, "you know him, or how could you speak his +name?"</p> + +<p>"I learned the name from you, child, when you talked in the fever. I am +very sorry I have caused you a disappointment. I am to blame for my +curiosity—forgive me."</p> + +<p>All the light faded from her face and very quietly she lay down upon her +pillow, her lips close-pressed, her eyes closed; but she could not hide +the shining of the tears that squeezed between her short, thick lashes +and clung to them. 'Twas long before his <!-- Page 262 --><a name='Page_262'></a>name was mentioned again; but +one day something had been said of friends, when Omassa with intense +pride had exclaimed:—"I have got my own self one friend—he—my friend +Frank."</p> + +<p>"What's his other name?" asked the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he very poor, he got only one name."</p> + +<p>"But, dear, he must have another name, he is Frank somebody or +something."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" persisted Omassa with gentle obstinacy, "he tell me always +true, he very poor, good man—he got only one name, my Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>"There," cried Mrs. Holmes, triumphantly, "you see he <i>has</i> two names +after all, you have just called him by them both—Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>At which the invalid sent forth a tinkling laugh of amusement, crying: +"Oh, that not one man's name, oh, no! That Sen that like your Mr.—Mrs.; +you nurse-lady, you Holmes Sen. Ito—big Japan fight man, he Ito Sen, +you unnerstand me, nurse-lady?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 263 --><a name='Page_263'></a>Yes, child, I understand. Sen is a title, a term of respect, and you +like to show your friend Frank all the honour you can, so you call him +Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>And Omassa with unconscious slanginess gravely answered: "You right <i>on</i> +to it at first try. My boss" (her manager Kimoto) "find <i>me</i> baby in +Japan, with very bad old man. He gamble all time. I not know why he have +me, he not my old man, but he sell me for seven year to Kimoto, and +Kimoto teach me jump, turn, twist, climb, and he send my money all to +old man—<i>all</i>. We go Mexico—South America—many Islands—to German +land, and long time here in this most big America—and the world so +big—and then I so little Japan baby—I no play—I no sing—I know +nothing what to do—and just <i>one</i> person in this big lonesome<i>ness</i> +make a kindness to me—my Frank Sen—just one man—just one woman in all +world make goodness to me—my Frank Sen and my nurse-lady," and she +stroked <!-- Page 264 --><a name='Page_264'></a>with reverent little fingers the white hand resting on the bed +beside her.</p> + +<p>"What was he like, your Frank?" asked the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he one big large American man—he not laugh many times loud, but he +laugh in he blue eye. He got brown mustache and he hair all short, +thick, wavy—like puppy dog's back. He poor—he not perform in circus, +oh, no! He work for put up tents, for wagon, for horses. He ver good man +for fight too—he smash man that hurt horse—he smash man that kick dog +or push me, Japan baby. Oh, he best man in all the world" (the exquisite +Madame Butterfly was not known yet, so Omassa was not quoting). "He tell +me I shall not say some words, 'damn' and 'hell' and others more long, +more bad, and he tell me all about that 'hell' and where is—and how you +get in for steal, for lie, for hurt things not so big as you—and how +you can't get out again where there is cool place for change—and <!-- Page 265 --><a name='Page_265'></a>he +smooth my hair and pat my shoulder, for he know Japan people don't ever +be kissed—and he call me one word I cannot know."</p> + +<p>She shook her head regretfully. "He call me 'poor little wave'—why poor +little wave—wave that mean water?" she sighed. "I can't know why Frank +Sen call me that."</p> + +<p>But quick-witted Mrs. Holmes guessed the word had been "waif"—poor +little waif, and she began dimly to comprehend the big-hearted, rough +tent-man, who had tried to guard this little foreign maid from the +ignorance and evil about her.</p> + +<p>"But," resumed Omassa, with perfect conviction, "Frank Sen meaned +goodness for me when he called me 'wave'—I know <i>that</i>. What you think +that big American man do for help me little Japan baby—with no sense? +Well, I will tell you. When daylight circus-show over, he take me by +hand and lead me to shady place between tents—he sit down—put me at he +knee, <!-- Page 266 --><a name='Page_266'></a>and in what you call primer-book with he long brown finger he +point out and make me know all those big fat letters—yes, he do <i>that</i>. +Other mens make of him fun—and he only laugh; but when they say he my +father and say of me names, he lay down primer and fight. When he lay +out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more +letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know <i>all</i>, and +<i>then</i> he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, +and so it come that one day next week was going to be his +fête-day,—what you call birsday,—and I make very big large secret."</p> + +<p>She lifted herself excitedly in bed, her glowing eyes were on her +nurse's face, her lips trembled, the "lantern" was alight and glowing +radiantly.</p> + +<p>"What you think I do for my Frank Sen's birsday? I have never one +penny,—I cannot buy,—but I make one big great try. I go to +circus-lady, that ride horse and jump <!-- Page 267 --><a name='Page_267'></a>hoops—she read like Frank Sen. I +ask her show me some right letters. Oh, I work hard—for I am very +stupid Japan child; but when that day come, Frank Sen he lead me to +shady place—he open primer—then," her whole face was quivering with +fun at the recollection, "then I take he long finger off—I put <i>my</i> +finger and I slow spell—not cat—not dog—oh, <i>what</i> you think?—I +spell F-r-a-n-k—Frank! He look to me, and then he make a big jump—he +catch me—toss me, high up in air, and he shout big glad shout, and then +I say—'cause for your birsday.' He stop, he put me down, and he eyes +come wet, and he take my hand and he say: 'Thank you, that's the only +birsday gift I ever <i>re</i>ceived that was not from my mother. Spell it +again for me,' he said; and then he was very proud and said, 'there was +not any-other birsday gift like that in all the world!' What you think +of <i>that</i>?</p> + +<p>"Then the end to season of circus come—Frank<!-- Page 268 --><a name='Page_268'></a> Sen he kneel down by +me—he very sad—he say, 'I have nothing to give—I am such a fool—and +the green-cloth—oh, the curse of the green-cloth!' He took off my Japan +slippers and smiled at them and said, 'Poor little feet'; he stroked my +hands and said, 'Poor little hands'; he lifted up my face and said, +'Poor little wave'; then he look up in air and he say, very +troubled-like, 'A few home memories—some small knowledge, all I had, I +have given her. To read a little is not much, but maybe it may help her +some day, and I have nothing more to give!'</p> + +<p>"And I feeling something grow very fast, here and here" (touching throat +and breast), "and I say, '<i>You</i> have nothing to give me? well'—and then +I forget all about I am little Japan girl, and I cry, 'Well, <i>I</i> have +something to give you, Frank Sen, and that is one kiss!' And I put my +arms about he neck and make one big large kiss right on he kind lips."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 269 --><a name='Page_269'></a>Her chin sank upon her night-robed breast. After a moment she smiled +deprecatingly at Mrs. Holmes and whispered: "You forgive me, other day? +You see I Japan girl—and just once I give big American kiss to my +friend, Frank Sen."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a><h2><!-- Page 270 --><a name='Page_270'></a><i>CHAPTER XXI +<br /><br /> +STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was during the rehearsals of "L'Article 47" that I enjoyed one single +hearty laugh,—a statement that goes far to show my distressed state of +mind,—for generally speaking that is an unusual day which does not +bring along with its worry, work, and pain some bubble of healing +laughter. It was a joke of Mr. Le Moyne's own special brand that found +favour in my eyes and a place in my memory. Any one who has ever served +under Mr. Daly can recall the astounding list of rules printed in fine +type all over the backs of his contracts. The rules touching on +<i>forfeits</i> seemed end<!-- Page 271 --><a name='Page_271'></a>less: "For being late," "For a stage wait," "For +lack of courtesy," "For gossiping," "For wounding a companion's +feelings"—each had its separate forfeiture. "For addressing the manager +on business outside of his office," I remember, was considered worth one +dollar for a first offence and more for a second. Most of these rules +ended with, "Or discharge at the option of the manager." But it was well +known that the mortal offence was the breaking that rule whose very +first forfeit was five dollars, "Or discharge at the option of," etc., +that rule forbidding the giving to outsiders of any stage information +whatever; touching the plays in rehearsal, their names, scenes, length, +strength, or story; and to all these many rules on the backs of our +contracts we assented and subscribed our amused or amazed selves.</p> + +<p>When the new French play "L'Article 47" was announced, the title aroused +any amount of curiosity. A reporter after a matinee one <!-- Page 272 --><a name='Page_272'></a>day followed me +up the avenue, trying hard to get me to explain its meaning; but I was +anxious not to be "discharged at the option of the manager," and +declined to explain. Many of the company received notes asking the +meaning of the title. At Mr. Le Moyne's house there boarded a walking +interrogation-point of a woman. She wished to know what "L'Article 47" +meant; she would know. She tried Mr. Harkins; Mr. Harkins said he didn't +know. She tossed her head and tried Mr. Crisp; Mr. Crisp patiently and +elaborately explained just why he could not give any information. She +implied that he did not know a lady when he saw one, and fell upon Mr. +Le Moyne, tired, hungry, suavely sardonic. "<i>He</i> was," she assured him, +"a gentleman of the old school. <i>He</i> would know how to receive a lady's +request and honour it." And Le Moyne rose to the occasion. A large +benevolence sat upon his brow, as assuring her that, though he ran the +risk of discharge for her fair sake, yet <!-- Page 273 --><a name='Page_273'></a>should she have her will. He +asked if she had ever seen a Daly contract. The bridling, simpering +idiot replied, "She had seen several, and such numbers of silly rules +she had never seen before, and—"</p> + +<p>"That's it," blandly broke in Le Moyne, "there's the explanation of the +whole thing—see? 'L' Article 47' is a five-act dramatization of the +47th rule of Daly's contract."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever?" gasped the woman.</p> + +<p>"No," said Le Moyne, reaching for bread, "I never did; but Daly's up to +anything, and he'd discharge me like a shot if he should ever hear of +this."</p> + +<p>It was almost impossible to get Mr. Daly to laugh at an actor's joke; he +was too generally at war with them, and he was too often the object of +the jest. But he did laugh once at one of the solemn frauds perpetrated +on me by this same Le Moyne.</p> + +<p>On the one hundred and twenty-fifth performance of "Divorce" I had +"stuck dead," as the saying is. Not a word <!-- Page 274 --><a name='Page_274'></a>could I find of my speech. I +was cold—hot—cold again. I clutched Mrs. Gilbert's hand. I whispered +frantically: "What is it? Oh! what is the word?" But horror on horror, +in my fall I had dragged her down with me. She, too, was +bewildered—lost. "I don't know," she murmured. There we were, all at +sea. After an awful wait I walked over and asked Captain Lynde (Louis +James) to come on, and the scene continued from that point. I was +angry—shamed. I had never stuck in all my life before, not even in my +little girl days. Mr. Daly was, of course, in front. He came rushing +back to inquire, to scold. Every one joked me about my probable +five-dollar forfeit. Well, next night came, and at that exact line I did +it again. Of course that was an expression of worn-out nerves; but it +was humiliating in the extreme. Mr. Daly, it happened, was attending an +opening elsewhere, and did not witness my second fall from grace. Then +came Le Moyne to <!-- Page 275 --><a name='Page_275'></a>me—big and grave and kind, his plump face with the +shiny spots on the cheek-bones fairly exuding sympathetic commiseration. +He led me aside, he lowered his voice, he addressed me gently:—</p> + +<a name='Le_Moyne'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>W.J. Le Moyne</i>]</p> + +<p>"You stuck again, didn't you, Clara? Too bad! too bad! and of course you +apprehend trouble with Daly? I'm awfully sorry. Ten dollars is such a +haul on one week's salary. But see here, I've got an idea that will help +you out, if you care to listen to it."</p> + +<p>I looked hard at him, but the wretch had a front of brass; his +benevolence was touching. I said eagerly: "Yes, I do care indeed to +listen. What is the idea?"</p> + +<p>He beamed with affectionate interest, as he said impressively, "Well, +now you know that a bad 'stick' generally costs five dollars in this +theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I groaned.</p> + +<p>"And you stuck awfully last night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I admitted.</p> + +<p>"Then to-night you go and repeat the <!-- Page 276 --><a name='Page_276'></a>offence. But here is where I see +hope for you. Daly is not here; he does not know yet what you have done. +Watch then for his coming. This play is so long he will be here before +it's over. Go to his private office at once. Get ahead of every one +else; do you understand? Approach him affably and frankly. Tell him +yourself that you have unfortunately stuck again, and then offer him +<i>the two 'sticks' for eight dollars</i>. If he's a gentleman and not a Jew, +he'll accept your proposal."</p> + +<p>Just what remarks I made to my sympathetic friend Le Moyne at the end of +that speech I cannot now recall. If any one else can, I can only say I +was not a church member then, and let it pass at that. But when I opened +my envelope next salary day and saw my full week's earnings there, I +went to Mr. Daly's office and told him of my two "sticks" and of Le +Moyne's proposed offer, and for once he laughed at an actor's joke.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a><h2><!-- Page 277 --><a name='Page_277'></a><i>CHAPTER XXII +<br /><br /> +POOR SEMANTHA</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It has happened to every one of us, I don't know why, but every mother's +son or daughter of us can look back to the time when we habitually +referred to some acquaintance or friend as "poor So-and-So"; and the +curious part of it is that if one pauses to consider the why or +wherefore of such naming, one is almost sure to find that, financially +at least, "poor So-and-So" is better off than the person who is doing +the "pooring." Nor is "poor So-and-So" always sick or sorrowful, stupid +or ugly; and yet, low be it whispered, is there not always a trace of +contempt in that word<!-- Page 278 --><a name='Page_278'></a> "poor" when applied to an acquaintance? A very +slight trace, of course,—we lightly rub the dish with garlic, we do not +slice it into our salad. So when we call a friend "poor So-and-So," +consciously or unconsciously, there is beneath all our affection the +slight garlic touch of contemptuous pity; how else could I, right to her +merry, laughing face, have called this girl poor Semantha?</p> + +<p>I had at first no cause to notice her especially; she was poor, so was +I; she was in the ballet, so was I. True, I had already had heads nodded +sagely in my direction, and had heard voices solemnly murmur, "That +girl's going to do something yet," and all because I had gone on alone +and spoken a few lines loudly and clearly, and had gone off again, +without leaving the audience impressed with the idea that they had +witnessed the last agonized and dying breath of a girl killed by fright. +I had that much advantage, but we both drew the same amount of salary +per week,—five very torn and very dirty one-<!-- Page 279 --><a name='Page_279'></a>dollar bills. Of course +there could have been no rule nor reason for it, but it had so happened +that all the young women of the ballet—there were four—received their +salary in one-dollar bills. However, I was saying that we, the ballet, +dressed together at that time, and poor Semantha first attracted my +attention by her almost too great willingness to use my toilet soap, +instead of the common brown washing soap she had brought with her. At +some past time this soap must have been of the shape and size of a +building brick, but now it resembled a small dumb-bell, so worn was its +middle, so nobby its ends. Then, too, my pins were, to all intents and +purposes, her pins; my hair-pins her hair-pins; while worst of all, my +precious, real-for-true French rouge was <i>her</i> rouge.</p> + +<p>At that point I came near speaking, because poor Semantha was not +artistic in her make-up, and she painted not only her cheeks but her +eyes, her temples, her jaws, and quite a good sample of each side <!-- Page 280 --><a name='Page_280'></a>of +her neck. But just as I would be about to speak, I would bethink me of +those nights when, in the interest of art, I had to be hooked up behind, +and I would hold my peace.</p> + +<p>On the artistic occasions alluded to, I hooked Semantha up the back, and +then Semantha hooked up my back. Ah, what a comfort was that girl; as a +hooker-up of waists she was perfection. No taking hold of the two sides +of the waist, planting the feet firmly, and taking a huge breath, as if +the Vendôme column was about to be overthrown. No hooking of two-thirds +of the hooks and eyes, and then suddenly unhooking them, remarking that +there was a little mistake at the top hook. No putting of thumbs to the +mouth to relieve the awful numbness caused by terrible effort and +pinching. Ah, no! Semantha smiled,—she generally did that,—turned you +swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, +fastened that, fluttered to <!-- Page 281 --><a name='Page_281'></a>the top, exactly matched the top hook to +the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift +smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your +back was a joy until the act was over.</p> + +<p>That was all I had known of Semantha. Probably it was all I ever should +have known had not a sharp attack of sickness kept me away from the +theatre for a time, during which absence Semantha made the discovery +which was to bring her nearer to me.</p> + +<p>Finding my dressing place but a barren waste of pine board, Semantha +with smiling readiness turned to the dressing place on her left for a +pin or two, and was stricken with amazement when the milder of her two +companions remarked in a grudgingly unwilling tone, "You may take a few +of my pins and hair-pins if you are sure to pay them back again."</p> + +<p>While she was simply stunned for a mo<!-- Page 282 --><a name='Page_282'></a>ment, when the other companion, +with that rare, straightforward brutality for which she became so +deservedly infamous later on, snorted angrily: "No, you don't! Don't you +touch anything of mine! You can't sponge on me as you do on Clara!"</p> + +<p>Now Semantha was a German, as we were apt to find out if ever she grew +excited over anything; and whenever she had a strange word used to her, +she would repeat that word several times, first to make sure she fully +understood its meaning, next to impress it upon her memory; so there she +stood staring at her dressing mate, and slowly, questioningly repeated, +"Spoonge? spoonge? w'at is that spoonge?" And received for answer, +"<i>What is</i> it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," +continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; +that's what sponging is."</p> + +<p>Poor Semantha—astonished, insulted, frightened—turned her quivering +face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, <!-- Page 283 --><a name='Page_283'></a>my Fräulein +Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?"</p> + +<p>Then for the first time, and I honestly believe the last time in her +life, that other pretty blond, but woolly-brained, young woman rose to +the occasion—God bless her—and answered stoutly, "No, Clara never +thought you were stealing."</p> + +<p>So it happened that when I returned to work, and Semantha's excited and +very German welcome had been given, I noticed a change in her. When my +eyes met hers, instead of smiling instantly and broadly at me, her eyes +sank to the ground and her face flushed painfully. At last we were left +alone for a few moments. Quick as a flash, Semantha shut the door and +bolted it with the scissors. Then she faced me; but what a strange, new +Semantha it was! Her head was down, her eyes were down, her very body +seemed to droop. Never had I seen a human look so like a beaten dog. She +came quite close, both hands hanging heavily at <!-- Page 284 --><a name='Page_284'></a>her sides, and in a +low, hurried tone she began: "Clara, now Clara, now see, I've been usen +your soap—ach, it smells so goot!—nearly all der time!"—"Why," I +broke in, "you were welcome!"</p> + +<p>But she stopped me roughly with one word, "Wait," and then she went on. +"Und der pins—why, I can't no more count. Und der hair-pins, und der +paint," (her voice was rising now), "oh, der lofely soft pink paint! und +I used dem, I used 'em all. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem +all. You see, I be so green, fräulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, +I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, +und by Gott I didn't shteal!"</p> + +<p>I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, +"I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it."</p> + +<p>She looked me brightly in the eyes and answered: "You do? you <i>truly</i> +know dat?" gave a great sigh, and added with a <!-- Page 285 --><a name='Page_285'></a>fervour I fear I +ill-appreciated, "Oh, I hope you vill go to heaven!" then quickly +qualified it, "dat is, dat I don't mean right avay, dis minute—only ven +you can't keep avay any longer!"</p> + +<p>Then she sprang to her dress hanging on the hook, and after struggling +among the roots of her pocket, found the opening, and with triumph +breathing from every feature of her face, she brought forth a small +white cube, and cried out, "Youst you look at dat!"</p> + +<p>I did; it seemed of a stony structure, white with a chill thin line of +pink wandering forlornly through or on it (I am sure nothing could go +through it); but the worst thing about it was the strange and evil smell +emanating from it. And this evil, white, hard thing had been purchased +from a pedler under the name of soap, fine shaving or toilet soap, and +now Semantha was delightedly offering it to me, to use every night, and +I with immense fervour prom<!-- Page 286 --><a name='Page_286'></a>ised I would use it, just as soon as my own +was gone; and I mentally registered a solemn vow that the shadow of my +soap should never grow less.</p> + +<p>I soon discovered that poor Semantha was very ambitious; yes, in spite +of her faint German accent and the amusing abundance of negatives in her +conversation, she was ambitious. One night we had been called on to "go +on" as peasants and sing a chorus and do a country dance, and poor +Semantha had sung so freely and danced so gracefully and gayly, that it +was a pleasure to look at her. She was such a contrast to the two +others. One had sung in a thin nasal tone, and the expression of her +face was enough to take all the dance out of one's feet. With frowning +brows and thin lips tightly compressed, she attacked the figures with +such fell determination to do them right or die, that one could hardly +help hoping she <i>would</i> make a mistake and take the consequences. The +other,—the woolly-<!-- Page 287 --><a name='Page_287'></a>brained young person,—having absolutely no ear for +music or time, silently but vigorously worked her jaws through the +chorus, and affably ambled about, under everybody's feet, through the +dance, displaying all the stiff-kneed grace of a young, well-meaning +calf.</p> + +<p>When we were in our room, I told Semantha how well she had sung and +danced, and her face was radiant with delight. Then becoming very grave, +she said: "Oh, fräulein, how I vant to be an actor! Not a common van, +but" and she laid her hand with a childish gesture on her breast—"I +vant to be a big actor. Don' you tink I can ever be von—eh?"</p> + +<p>And looking into those bright, intelligent, squirrel-like eyes, I +answered, "I think it is very likely," Poor Semantha! we were to recall +those simple remarks, later on.</p> + +<p>Christmas being near, I was very busy working between acts upon +something intended for a present to my mother. This <!-- Page 288 --><a name='Page_288'></a>work was greatly +admired by all the girls; but never shall I forget the astonishment of +poor Semantha when she learned for whom it was intended.</p> + +<p>"Your mutter lets you love her yet—you would dare?" And as I only gazed +dumbly at her, she went on, while slow tears gathered in her eyes, "My +mutter hasn't let me love her since—since I vas big enough to be +knocked over."</p> + +<p>Through the talkativeness of an extra night-hand or scene-shifter, who +knew her family, I learned something of poor Semantha's private life. +Poor child! from the very first she had rested her bright brown eyes +upon the wrong side of life,—the seamy side,—and her own personal +share of the rough patchwork, composed of dismal drabs and sodden browns +and greens, had in it just one small patch of rich and brilliant +colour,—the theatre. Of the pure tints of sky and field and watery +waste and fruit and flower, she knew nothing. But what of that!<!-- Page 289 --><a name='Page_289'></a> had she +not secured this bit of rosy radiance, and might it not in time be added +to, until it should incarnadine the whole fabric of her life?</p> + +<p>Semantha's father was dead; her mother was living—worse luck. For had +she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and +reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to +support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she +lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present +rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young +tempers, a hardener of young hearts. Many a woman of quick, short temper +has a kind heart; while even the sullenly sulky woman generally has a +few rich, sweet drops of the milk of human kindness, which she is +willing to bestow upon her own immediate belongings. But Semantha's +mother was not of these. How, one might ask, had this wretch obtained +two good husbands? Yes, Semantha had a stepfather, <!-- Page 290 --><a name='Page_290'></a>and the only excuse +for the suicidal marriage act as performed by these two victims was that +the woman was well enough to look upon—a trim, bright-eyed, brown +creature with the mark of the beast well hidden from view.</p> + +<p>When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and +money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and +sullen, silent lips. When the child came home with empty hands, and gave +only cheerfully performed hard manual labour, she was received with +fierce eyes, cruel rankling words, and many a cut and heavy blow, and +was often thrust from the house itself, because 'twas known the girl was +afraid of darkness.</p> + +<a name='Clara_1870'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris before coming to Daly's Theatre in 1870</i>]</p> + +<p>Her stepfather then would secretly let her in, though sometimes she +dared go no farther than the shed, and there she would sit the whole +night through, in all the helpless agony of fright. But all this was as +nothing compared to the cruelty she had yet to meet <!-- Page 291 --><a name='Page_291'></a>out to poor +Semantha, whose greatest fault seemed to be her intense longing for some +one to love. Her mother <i>would not</i> be loved, her own father had wisely +given the whole thing up, her step-father <i>dared</i> not be loved. So, when +the second family began to materialize, Semantha's joy knew no bounds. +What a welcome she gave each newcomer! How she worked and walked and +cooed and sang and made herself an humble bond-maiden before them. And +they loved her and cried to her, and bit hard upon her needle stabbed +forefinger with their first wee, white, triumphant teeth, and for just a +little, little time poor Semantha was not poor, but very rich indeed. +And that strange creature, who had brought them all into the world, +looked on and saw the love and smiled a nasty smile; and Semantha saw +the smile, and her heart quaked, as well it might. For so soon as these +little men could stand firmly on their sturdy German legs, their gentle +mother taught them, deliberately taught them, <!-- Page 292 --><a name='Page_292'></a>to call their sister +names, the meaning being as naught to them, but enough to break a +sister's heart. To jeer at and disobey her, so that they became a pair +of burly little monsters, who laughed loud, affected laughter at the +word "love," and swore with many long-syllabled German oaths that they +would kick with their copper-toes any one who tried to kiss them. Ah! +when you find a fiercely violent temper allied to a stone-cold heart, +offer you up an earnest prayer to Him for the safety of the souls coming +under the dominion and the power of that woman.</p> + +<p>I recall one action of Semantha's that goes far, I think, to prove what +a brave and loyal heart the untaught German girl possessed. She was very +sensitive to ridicule, and when people made fun of her, though she would +laugh good-humouredly, many times she had to keep her eyes down to hide +the brimming tears. Now her stepfathers name was a funny one to American +ears, and always provoked a laugh, while her own <!-- Page 293 --><a name='Page_293'></a>family name was not +funny. Yet because the man had shown her a little timid kindness, she +faithfully bore his name, and through storms of jeering laughter, clear +to the dismal end, she called herself Semantha Waacker.</p> + +<p>Once we spoke of it, and she exclaimed in her excited way: "Yes, I am +alvays Waacker. Why not, ven he is so goot? Why, why, dat man, dat vater +Waacker, he have kissed me two time already. Vunce here" (placing her +finger on a vicious scar upon her check), "von de mutter cut me bad, und +vun odder time, ven I come very sick. Und de mutter seen him in de +glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a +little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out +de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before +everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha +Waacker."</p> + +<p>The unfortunate man's occupation was also <!-- Page 294 --><a name='Page_294'></a>something that provoked +laughter, when one first heard of it; but as Semantha herself was my +informant, and I had grown to care for her, I managed by a great effort +to keep my face serious. How deeply this fact impressed her, I was to +learn later on.</p> + +<p>Christmas had come, and I was in high glee. I had many gifts, simple and +inexpensive most of them, but they were perfectly satisfactory to me. My +dressing-room mates had remembered me, too, in the most characteristic +fashion. The pretty, woolly-brained girl had with smiling satisfaction +presented me with a curious structure of perforated cardboard and gilt +paper, intended to catch flies. Its fragility may be imagined from the +fact that it broke twice before I got it back into its box; still there +was, I am sure, not another girl in Cleveland who could have found for +sale a fly-trap at Christmas time.</p> + +<p>The straightforward one had presented me with an expensively repellent +gift in the form <!-- Page 295 --><a name='Page_295'></a>of a brown earthenware jug, a cross between a Mexican +idol and a pitcher. A hideous thing, calculated to frighten children or +sober drunken men. I know I should have nearly died of thirst before I +could have forced myself to swallow a drop of liquid coming from that +horrible interior.</p> + +<p>Semantha was nervous and silent, and the performance was well on before +she caught me alone, out in a dark passageway. Then she began as she +always did when excited, with: "Clara, now Clara, you know I told my +vater of you, for dat you were goot to me, und he say, vat he alvays +say—not'ing. Dat day I come tell you vat his work vas, I vent home und +I say, 'Vater Waacker, I told my fräulein you made your livin' in de +tombstone yard,' und he say, quvick like, 'Vell,'—you know my vater no +speak ver goot English" (Semantha's own English was weakening +fast),—"'vell, I s'pose she make some big fool laugh, den, like +everybodies, eh?' Und I say, 'No, she don't laugh! de lips <!-- Page 296 --><a name='Page_296'></a>curdle a +little'" (curdle was Semantha's own word for tremble or quiver. If she +shivered even with cold, she curdled with cold), "'but she don't laugh, +und she say, "It vas the best trade in de vorldt for you, 'cause it must +be satisfactions to you to work all day long on somebody's tombstone."'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Semantha!" I cried, "why did you tell him that?"</p> + +<p>"But vy not?" asked the girl, innocently. "Und he look at me hard, und +his mouth curdle, und den he trow back his head und he laugh, pig +laughs, und stamp de feet und say over und over, 'Mein Gott! mein Gott! +satisfackshuns ter vurk on somebody's tombstones—<i>some</i>body's. Und she +don't laugh at my vurk, nieder, eh? Vell, vell! dat fräulein she tinks +sometings! Say, Semantha, don't it dat you like a Kriss-Krihgle present +to make to her, eh?' Und I say, dat very week, dere have to be new shoes +for all de kinder, und not vun penny vill be left. Und he shlap me my +back, <!-- Page 297 --><a name='Page_297'></a>une! say, 'Never mindt, I'll make him,' und so he did, und here +it is," thrusting some small object into my hand. "Und if you laugh, +fräulein, I tink I die, 'cause it is so mean und little."</p> + +<p>Then stooping her head, she pressed a kiss on my bare shoulder and +rushed headlong down the stairs, leaving me standing there in the dark +with "it" in my hand. Poor Semantha! "it" lies here now, after all these +years; but where are you, Semantha? Are you still dragging heavily +through life, or have you reached that happy shore, where hearts are +hungry never more, but filled with love divine?</p> + +<p>"It" is a little bit of white marble, highly polished and perfectly +carved to imitate a tiny Bible. A pretty toy it is to other eyes; but to +mine it is infinitely pathetic, and goes well with another toy in my +possession, a far older one, which cost a human life.</p> + +<p>Well, from that Christmas-tide Semantha <!-- Page 298 --><a name='Page_298'></a>was never quite herself again. +For a time she was extravagantly gay, laughing at everything or nothing. +Then she became curiously absent-minded. She would stop sometimes in the +midst of what she might be doing, and stand stock-still, with fixed +eyes, and thoughts evidently far enough away from her immediate +surroundings. Sometimes she left unfinished the remark she might be +making. Once I saw a big, hulking-looking fellow walking away from the +theatre door with her. The night was bad, too, but I noticed that she +carried her own bundle, while he slouched along with his hands in his +pocket, and I felt hurt and offended for her.</p> + +<p>And then one night Semantha was late, and we wondered greatly, since she +usually came very early, the theatre being the one bright spot in life +to her. We were quite dressed, and were saying how lucky it was there +was no dance to-night, or it would be spoiled, when she came in. Her +face was <!-- Page 299 --><a name='Page_299'></a>dreadful; even the straightforward one exclaimed in a shocked +tone, "You must be awful sick!"</p> + +<p>But Semantha turned her hot, dry-looking eyes upon her and answered +slowly and dully, "I'm not sick."</p> + +<p>"Not sick, with that white face and those poor curdling hands?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sick, I'm going avay."</p> + +<p>Just then the act was called, and down the stairs we had to dash to take +our places. We wore pages' dresses, and as we went Semantha stood in the +doorway in her shabby street gown and followed us with wistful eyes—she +did so love a page's costume.</p> + +<p>When we were "off" we hastened back to our dressing room. Semantha was +still there. She moved stiffly about, packing together her few +belongings; but her manner silenced us. She had taken everything else, +when her eyes fell upon a remnant of that evil-smelling soap. She paused +a bit, <!-- Page 300 --><a name='Page_300'></a>then in that same slow way she said, "You never, never used that +soap after all, Clara?" and when I answered: "Oh, yes, I have. I've used +it several times," she put her hand out quickly, and took the thing, and +slipped it into her pocket, and then she stood a moment and looked +about; and if ever anguish grew in human eyes, it slowly grew in hers. +Her face was pale before; it was white now.</p> + +<p>At last her eyes met mine, then a sudden tremor crossed her face from +brow to chin, a piteous slow smile crept around her lips, and in that +dull and hopeless tone she said, "You see, my fräulein, I'll never be a +big actor after all," and turned her back upon me, and slowly left the +room and the theatre, without one kiss or handshake, even from me. And +I, who knew her, did not guess why. She went out of my life forever, +stepping down to that lower world of which I had only heard, but by +God's mercy did not know.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 301 --><a name='Page_301'></a>That same sad night a group of men, close-guarded, travelled to +Columbus, that city of great prisons and asylums, and one of those +guarded men was poor Semantha's lover, alas! her convicted lover now; +and she, having cast from her her proudest hope, her high ambition, +trusting a little in his innocence, trusting entirely in his love, now +followed him steadily to the prison's very gate.</p> + +<p>After this came a long silence. One girl had fallen from our ranks, but +what of that? Another girl had taken her place. We were still four, +marching on,—eyes front, step firm and regular,—ready when the quick +order came quickly to obey. There could be no halt, no turning back to +the help of the figure already growing dim, of one who had fallen by the +wayside.</p> + +<p>After a time rumours came to us, at first faint and vague—uncertain, +then more distinct—more dreadful! And the stronger the rumours grew, +the lower were the voices <!-- Page 302 --><a name='Page_302'></a>with which we discussed them; since we were +young, and vice was strange to us, and we were being forced to believe +that she who had so recently been our companion was now—was—well, to +be brief, she wore her rouge in daylight now upon the public street.</p> + +<p>Poor, poor Semantha! They were playing "Hamlet," the night of the worst +and strongest rumour, and as I heard Ophelia assuring one of her noble +friends or relatives:—</p> + +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<span>"You may wear your rue with a difference,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I could not help saying to myself that "rue" was not the only thing that +could be so treated, since we all had rouge upon our cheeks; yet +Semantha—ah, God forgive her—wore her rouge with a difference.</p> + +<p>A little longer and we were all in Columbus, where a portion of each +season was passed, our manager keeping his company there during the +sitting of the legislature.<!-- Page 303 --><a name='Page_303'></a> We had secured boarding-houses,—the memory +of mine will never die,—and in fact our round bodies were beginning to +fit themselves to the square holes they were expected to fill for the +next few weeks, when we found ourselves sneezing and coughing our way +through that spirit-crushing thing they call a "February thaw." +Rehearsal had been long, and I was tired. I had quite a distance to +walk, and my mind was full of professional woe. Here was I, a ballet +girl who had taken a cold whose proportions simply towered over that +nursed by the leading lady's self; and as I slipped and slid slushily +homeward, I asked myself angrily what a fairy was to do with a +handkerchief,—and in heaven's name, what was that fairy to do without +one. The dresses worn by fairies—theatrical, of course—in those days +would seem something like a fairy mother-hubbard now, at all events a +home toilet of some sort, so very proper were they; but even so there +was no provision made for handkerchiefs, no <!-- Page 304 --><a name='Page_304'></a>thought apparently that +stage fairies might have colds in their star-crowned heads.</p> + +<p>So as my wet skirt viciously slapped my icy ankles, I almost tearfully +declared to myself I would have to have a handkerchief, even though it +wore pinned to my wings, only who on earth could get it off in time for +me to use? Now if poor Semantha were only—and there I stopped, my eyes, +my mind, fixed upon a woman a little way ahead of me, who stood staring +in a window. Her figure drooped as though she were weary or very, very +sad, and I said to myself, "I don't know what you are looking at, but I +<i>do</i> know it's something you want awfully," and just then she turned and +faced me. My heart gave a plunge against my side. I knew her. One +woman's glance, lightning-quick, mathematically true, and I had her +photograph—the last, the very last I ever took of poor Semantha.</p> + +<p>As her eyes met mine, they opened wide and bright. The rosy colour +flushed into her <!-- Page 305 --><a name='Page_305'></a>face, her lips smiled. She gave a little forward +movement, then before I had completed calling out her name, like a flash +she changed, her brows were knit, her lips close-pressed, and all her +face, save for the shameful red sign on her cheeks, was very white. I +stood quite still—not so, she. She walked stiffly by, till on the very +line with me she shot out one swift, sidelong glance and slightly shook +her head; yet as she passed I clearly heard that grievous sound that +coming from a woman's throat tells of a swallowed sob.</p> + +<p>Still I stood watching her as she moved away, regardless quite of watery +pool or deepest mud; she marched straight on and at the first corner +disappeared, but never turned her head. As she had left me first without +good-by, so she met me now without a greeting, and passed me by without +farewell. And I, who knew her, understood at last the reason why. Poor +wounded, loyal heart, who would deny herself a longed-for <!-- Page 306 --><a name='Page_306'></a>pleasure +rather than put the tiniest touch of shame upon so small a person as a +ballet girl whom one year ago she had so lovingly called friend.</p> + +<p>At last I turned to go. As I came to the window into which Semantha had +so lovingly been gazing, I looked in too, and saw a window full of fine, +thick underwear for men.</p> + +<p>Two crowded, busy years swept swiftly by before I heard once more, and +for the last time, of poor Semantha. I was again in Columbus for a short +time, and was boarding at the home of one of the prison wardens. +Whenever I could catch this man at home, I took pains to make him talk, +and he told me many interesting tales. They were scarcely of a nature to +be repeated to young children after they had gone to bed, that is, if +you wanted the children to stay in bed; but they were interesting, and +one day the talk was of odd names,—his own was funny,—and at last he +mentioned Semantha's. Of course I <!-- Page 307 --><a name='Page_307'></a>was alert, of course I questioned +him—how often I have wished I had not. For the tale he told was sad. +Nothing new, nay, it was common even; but so is "battle, murder, and +sudden death," from which, nevertheless, we pray each day to be +delivered. Ah! his tale was sad if common.</p> + +<p>It seemed that when Semantha followed that treacherous young brute, her +convicted lover, she had at first obtained a situation as a servant, so +she could not come to the prison every visiting day, and what was worse +in his eyes, she was most poorly paid, and had but very small sums to +spend upon extras for him. He grumbled loudly, and she was torn with +loving pity. Then quite suddenly she was stricken down with sickness, +and her precious brute had to do without her visits for a time and the +small comforts she provided for him, until one visiting day he fairly +broke down and roared with rage and grief over the absence of his +tobacco.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 308 --><a name='Page_308'></a>The hospital sheltered Semantha as long as the rules permitted, but +when she left it she was weak and worn and homeless, and as she crept +slowly from place to place, a woman old and well-dressed spoke to her, +calling her Mamie Someone, and then apologized for her mistake. Next she +asked a question or two, and ended by telling Semantha she was the very +girl she wanted—to come with her. She could rest for a few days at her +home, and after that she should have steady employment and better pay, +and—oh! did I not tell you it was a common tale?</p> + +<p>But when on visiting day the child with frightened eyes told what she +had discovered about her new home, the soulless monster bade her stay +there, and every dollar made in her new accursed trade was lavished upon +him.</p> + +<p>By a little sickness and a great deal of fraud the wretch got himself +into the prison hospital for a time, and there my informant <!-- Page 309 --><a name='Page_309'></a>learned to +know the pair quite well. She not only loved him passionately, but she +had for all his faults of selfishness and general ugliness the tender +patience of a mother. And he traded upon her loving pity by pretending +he could obtain the privilege of this or immunity from that if he had +only so many dollars to give to the guard or keeper. And she, poor +loving fool, hastened a few steps farther down the road of shame to +obtain for him the money, receiving in return perhaps a rough caress or +two that brought the sunshine to her heart and joy into her eyes.</p> + +<p>His term of imprisonment was nearly over, and Semantha was preparing for +his coming freedom. His demands seemed unending. His hat would be +old-fashioned, and his boots and his undergarments were old, etc. Then +he wanted her to have two tickets for Bellefontaine ready, that they +might leave Columbus at once, and Semantha was excited and worried. "One +day," said the warden, "she <!-- Page 310 --><a name='Page_310'></a>asked to see me for a moment, and I +exclaimed at sight of her, 'What is it that's happened?'</p> + +<p>"Her face was fairly radiant with joy, and she shook all over. It seemed +as though she could not speak at first, and then she burst forth, 'Mr. +S——, now Mr. S——, you don't much like my poor boy, but joust tink +now how goot he is! Ach, Gott, he tells me ven all der tings are got, +und de tickets too, have I some money left I shall buy a ring, und +then,'—she clutched my arm with both her hands, and dropped her head +forward on them, as she continued in a stifled voice,—und then we go to +a minister and straight we get married.'</p> + +<p>"And," continued Mr. S——, "as I looked at her I caught myself wishing +she were dead, that she might escape the misery awaiting her.</p> + +<p>"At last the day came. Her lover and a pal of his went out together. +Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not <!-- Page 311 --><a name='Page_311'></a>pleased at the pal's +presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to +the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new +finery, but insisted upon going with his friend. Semantha yielded, of +course, and on the way her lover laughed and jested—asked for the +tickets, then the ring, and putting on the latter declared that he was +married to <i>her</i> now, and would wear the ring until they saw the +'Bible-sharp,' and then she should be married to <i>him</i>; and Semantha +brightened up again and was happy.</p> + +<p>"They came at last to the house they sought. It was a low kind of +neighbourhood, had a deserted look, and was next door to a saloon. The +pal said there were no women in the house, and Semantha had better not +come in. The lover bade her wait, and they went in and closed the door, +and left the girl outside. There she waited such a weary time, then at +last she rang—quite timidly at first, then louder, faster, too, and a +scowling fellow from <!-- Page 312 --><a name='Page_312'></a>the saloon told her that the house was empty. She +rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman. Then she ceased, but +walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable +yard. She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her +heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a +good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew +Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with +yer feller and his pal?'</p> + +<p>"'She didn't say nary a word,' said the boy, 'she didn't say nary a +word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same +as a cat's, and I says: "Why, I seed 'em ketch the 4.30 train to +Bellefontaine! They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn't scare +a darn, they just laughed and laughed." And, Boss, something like a +tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up +to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still +<!-- Page 313 --><a name='Page_313'></a>as still after that doglike tremble went away. I got muddled, and at +last I says, "Semantha, hav' yer got no sponds?" She didn't seem to see +me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, "Say, Semantha! +where yer goin' to? what yer goin' ter do now?" and, Boss, she done the +toughest thing I ever seen. She jes' slowly lifted up her hands and +looked at 'em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and +then jes' as slow she turns 'em over, they were bare and empty, and the +palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves 'em a +bit, and then without raisin' up her eyes, she jes' smiles a little +slow, slow smile.</p> + +<p>"'And then she turned 'round and walked away without nary a word at all; +but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and +she dragged her feet along jes' like an old, old woman, what was too +tired to live. I was skeered like, and thought I'd come here and tell +you, but I looked back to watch her. 'Twas almost dark then, and <!-- Page 314 --><a name='Page_314'></a>when +she came to the crossin', the wind was blowin' so she could hardly +stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she +looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to +the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther' +anything there; but ther' wasn't nothin' but them dirty, low-hangin' +clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome. And then right of a suddent +she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together. +It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty +hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, "My God, it is +too much! I cannot, cannot bear it!" Then she draw'd herself up quite +tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could +carry her straight toward the river.'"</p> + +<p>And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor +Semantha. I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more +effectually by remarking:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 315 --><a name='Page_315'></a>Yes, she was a bright, promising, true-hearted girl; but you see she +went wrong, and the sinner has to pay both here and hereafter."</p> + +<p>"Don't," I hotly cried. "Don't go on! don't! Sin? sin? Don't hurl that +word at her, the embodiment of self-sacrifice! Sin? where there is no +law, there can be no sin. And who had taught her anything? She was a +heathen. So far as one person can be the cause of another person's +wrong-doing, so far was Semantha's mother the guilty cause of Semantha's +loving fall. She was a heathen. She had been taught just one law—that +she was always to serve other people. That law she truly kept unto the +end. Of that great book, the Bible, closely packed with all sustaining +promises, she knew naught. I tell you the only Bible she ever held +within her hand was that mimic one of marble her father carved for me. +She was a heathen. Of that all-enduring One—'chief among ten thousand +and altogether lovely,' for whom <!-- Page 316 --><a name='Page_316'></a>there was no thing too small to love, +no sin too great to pardon—she knew nothing. Even that woman who with +wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, +yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and +true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its +necessity, nor its power.</p> + +<p>"Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her. God +placed her; and if she fell by the wayside in ignorance, she <i>did not</i> +fall from the knowledge of her Maker."</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13277 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ad5d87 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13277 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13277) diff --git a/old/13277-8.txt b/old/13277-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47af9ee --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13277-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5463 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Stage Confidences + +Author: Clara Morris + +Release Date: August 25, 2004 [EBook #13277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + + + + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris (1883)_] + + +_STAGE CONFIDENCES_ + +TALKS ABOUT PLAYERS AND PLAY ACTING + +BY + +CLARA MORRIS + + +AUTHOR OF + +"LIFE ON THE STAGE," +"THE PASTEBOARD CROWN," ETC. + + +_ILLUSTRATED_ + + +LONDON +CHARLES H. KELLY + +1902 + + + _To + + MARY ANDERSON + + "THE FAIR + THE CHASTE + THE UNEXPRESSIVE SHE"_ + + + + +_GREETING + + +To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their +confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition. + +Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage +over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can +answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred "tiffs" of angry +disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer +that turneth away the wrath of one. + +Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your +addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are +grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, +very foolish,--yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, +very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who +write to her,--no more can I, and that disturbs me, because I like +girls and I hate to disappoint them. + +But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my +friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of +warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my +assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to +laughter with the absurdities,--that are so funny in their telling, +though so painful in their happening. + +Clara Morris._ + + + + +_CONTENTS_ + + + CHAPTER + + I. A WORD OF WARNING + II. THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE + III. IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S + IV. "MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE + V. THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE + VI. "ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY + VII. A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG" + VIII. THE CAT IN "CAMILLE" + IX. "ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE + X. J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT + XI. STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON" + XII. THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN + XIII. THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE + XIV. THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS + XV. SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES + XVI. THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION + XVII. A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS + XVIII. A BELATED WEDDING + XIX. SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR + XX. FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE + XXI. STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR + XXII. POOR SEMANTHA + + + + +_ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + + CLARA MORRIS (1883) + CLARA MORRIS IN "L' ARTICLE 47" + CHARLES MATTHEWS + CLARA MORRIS IN "ALIXE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "MISS MULTON" + CLARA MORRIS AS "ODETTE" + MRS. GILBERT, AUGUSTIN DALY, JAMES LEWIS, AND LOUIS JAMES + JOHN E. OWENS + "LITTLE BREECHES" + CLARA MORRIS AS "JANE EYRE" + CLARA MORRIS IN "THE SPHINX" + CLARA MORRIS IN "EVADNE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "CAMILLE" + TOMMASO SALVINI + W.J. LE MOYNE + CLARA MORRIS BEFORE COMING TO DALY'S THEATRE IN 1870 + + + + +_CHAPTER I + +A WORD OF WARNING_ + + +Every actress of prominence receives letters from young girls and women +who wish to go on the stage, and I have my share. These letters are of +all kinds. Some are extravagant, some enthusiastic, some foolish, and a +few unutterably pathetic; but however their writers may differ +otherwise, there is one positive conviction they unconsciously share, +and there is one question they each and every one put to me: so it is +_that_ question that must be first answered, and that conviction that +must be shaken. + +The question is, "What chance has a girl in private life of getting on +the stage?" and to reply at once with brutal truthfulness and straight +to the point, I must say, "Almost none." + +But to answer her instant "Why?" I must first shake that positive +conviction each writer has, that she is the only one that burns with the +high ambition to be an actress, who hopes and fears, and secretly +studies Juliet. It would be difficult to convince her that her own +state, her own city, yes, her own block, could each produce a girl who +firmly believes that _her_ talent is equally great, and who has just the +same strength of hope for the future stage existence. + +Every city in the country is freely sprinkled with stage-loving, or, as +they are generally termed, "stage-struck" girls. It is more than +probable that at least a half-dozen girls in her own circle secretly +cherish a hope for a glorious career on the stage, while her bosom +friend most likely knows every line of _Pauline_ and has practised the +death scene of _Camille_ hundreds of times. Surely, then, the would-be +actresses can see that their own numbers constitute one of the greatest +obstacles in their path. + +But that is by no means all. Figures are always hard things to manage, +and there is another large body of them, between a girl and her chances, +in the number of trained actresses who are out of engagements. There is +probably no profession in the world so overcrowded as is the profession +of acting. "Why, then," the manager asks, "should I engage a girl who +does not even know how to walk across the stage, when there are so many +trained girls and women to choose from?" + +"But," says or thinks some girl who reads these words, "you were an +outsider, poor and without friends, yet you got your chance." + +Very true; I did. But conditions then were different. The stage did not +hold then the place in public estimation which it now does. Theatrical +people were little known and even less understood. Even the people who +did not think all actors drunkards and all actresses immoral, did think +they were a lot of flighty, silly buffoons, not to be taken seriously +for a moment. The profession, by reason of this feeling, was rather a +close corporation. The recruits were generally young relatives of the +older actors. There was plenty of room, and people began at the bottom +quite cheerfully and worked up. When a "ballet" was wanted, the manager +advertised for extra girls, and sometimes received as many as three +applicants in one day--when twenty were wanted. Such an advertisement +to-day would call out a veritable mob of eager girls and women. _There_ +was my chance. To-day I should have no chance at all. + +The theatrical ranks were already growing crowded when the "Schools of +Acting" were started, and after that--goodness gracious! actors and +actresses started up as suddenly and numerously as mushrooms in an old +pasture. And they, even _they_ stand in the way of the beginner. + +I know, then, of but three powers that can open the stage door to a girl +who comes straight from private life,--a fortune, great influence, or +superlative beauty. With a large amount of money a girl can +unquestionably tempt a manager whose business is not too good, to give +her an engagement. If influence is used, it must indeed be of a high +social order to be strong enough favourably to affect the box-office +receipts, and thus win an opening for the young débutante. As for +beauty, it must be something very remarkable that will on its strength +alone secure a girl an engagement. Mere prettiness will not do. Nearly +all American girls are pretty. It must be a radiant and compelling +beauty, and every one knows that there are not many such beauties, +stage-struck or otherwise. + +The next question is most often put by the parents or friends of the +would-be actress; and when with clasped hands and in-drawn breath they +ask about the temptations peculiar to the profession of acting, all my +share of the "old Adam" rises within me. For you see I honour the +profession in which I have served, girl and woman, so many years, and it +hurts me to have one imply that it is filled with strange and terrible +pitfalls for women. I have received the confidences of many +working-women,--some in professions, some in trades, and some in +service,--and on these confidences I have founded my belief that every +woman who works for her living must eat with her bread the bitter salt +of insult. Not even the plain girl escapes paying this penalty put upon +her unprotected state. + +Still, insult does not mean temptation, by any means. But careful +inquiry has shown me that temptation assails working-women in any walk +of life, and that the profession of acting has nothing weird or novel to +offer in the line of danger; to be quite frank, all the possibilities of +resisting or yielding lie with the young woman herself. What will tempt +one beyond her powers of resistance, will be no temptation at all to +another. + +However, parents wishing to frighten their daughters away from the stage +have naturally enough set up several great bugaboos collectively known +as "temptations"--individually known as the "manager," the "public," +etc. + +There seems to be a general belief that a manager is a sort of dramatic +"Moloch," upon whose altar is sacrificed all ambitious femininity. In +declaring that to be a mistaken idea, I do not for a moment imply that +managers are angels; for such a suggestion would beyond a doubt secure +me a quiet summer at some strictly private sanitarium; but I do mean to +say that, like the gentleman whom we all know by hearsay, but not by +sight, they are not so black as they are painted. + +Indeed, the manager is more often the pursued than the pursuer. Women +there are, attractive, well-looking, well-dressed, some of whom, alas! +in their determination to succeed, cast morality overboard, as an +aeronaut casts over ballast, that they may rise more quickly. Now while +these women bestow their adulation and delicate flattery upon the +manager, he is not likely to disturb the modest and retiring newcomer in +his company by unwelcome attentions. And should the young stranger prove +earnest and bright, she would be doubly safe; for then she would have +for the manager a commercial value, and he would be the last man to hurt +or anger her by a too warmly expressed admiration, and so drive her into +another theatre, taking all her possible future popularity and drawing +power with her. + +One other and better word I wish to add. If the unprotected young +beginner finds herself the victim of some odious creature's persistent +advances, letters, etc., let her not fret and weep and worry, but let +her go quietly to her manager and lay her trouble before him, and, my +word for it, he will find a way of freeing her from her tormentor. Yes, +the manager is, generally speaking, a kindly, cheery, sharp business +man, and no Moloch at all. + +As for the "public," no self-respecting girl need be in danger from the +"public." Admiring young rakes no longer have coaches waiting round the +corner, into which they thrust their favourite actress as she leaves the +theatre. If a man sends an actress extravagant letters or flowers, +anonymously, she can of course do nothing, but equally of course she +will not wear his flowers and so encourage him boldly to step up and +speak to her some day. If the gentleman sends her jewellery or valuable +gifts of any kind, rest assured his name will accompany the offering; +then the actress has but one thing to do, send the object back at once. +If the infatuated one is a gentleman and worthy of her notice, he will +surely find a perfectly correct and honourable way of making her +acquaintance, otherwise she is well rid of him. No, I see no danger +threatening a young actress from the "public." + +There is danger in drifting at any time, so it may be well to warn young +actresses against drifting into a too strong friendship. No matter how +handsome or clever a man may be, if he approaches a modest girl with +coarse familiarity, with brutalities on his lips, she is shocked, +repelled, certainly not tempted. But let us say that the young actress +feels rather strange and uncomfortable in her surroundings, that she is +only on a smiling "good morning and good evening" footing with the +company, and she has been promised a certain small part, and then at the +last moment the part is given to some one else. The disappointment is +cruel, and the suspicion that people are laughing in their sleeves over +the slight put upon her makes her feel sick and faint with shame, and +just then a friendly hand places a chair for her and a kind voice says: +"I'm awfully sorry you missed that chance, for I'm quite sure you would +do the part far and away better than that milliner's block will. But +don't distress yourself, your chance will come, and you will know how to +make the most of it--I am sure." + +And all the time the plain, perhaps the elderly man is speaking, he is +shielding her from the eyes of the other people, and from her very soul +she is grateful to him, and she holds up her head and smiles bravely. + +Not long after, perhaps, she does get a chance, and with joyous eyes she +watches for the coming of the man who comforted her, that she may tell +him of her good luck. And his pleasure is plain, and he assures her that +she will succeed. And he, an experienced actor, waits in the entrance to +see her play her small part, and shakes her hand and congratulates her +when she comes off, and even tells her what to do next time at such a +point, and her heart warms within her and is filled with gratitude for +this "sympathetic friend," who helps her and has faith in her future. +The poor child little dreams that temptation may be approaching her, +softly, quietly, in the guise of friendship. So, all unconsciously, she +grows to rely upon the advice of this quiet, unassuming man. She looks +for his praise, for his approval. By and by their companionship reaches +beyond the walls of the theatre. She respects him, admires, trusts him. +Trusts him--he may be worthy, he may not! But it would be well for the +young actresses to be on their guard against the "sympathetic friend." + +Since we are speaking about absolute beginners, perhaps a word of +warning may be given against _pretended_ critics. The young actress +trembles at the bare words "newspaper man." She ought to know that a +critic on a respectable paper holds a responsible position. When he +serves a prominent and a leading journal, he is frequently recognized as +an authority, and has a social as well as a professional position to +maintain. Further, the professional woman does not strongly attract the +critic personally. There is no glamour about stage people to him; but +should he desire to make an actress's acquaintance, he would do so in +the perfectly correct manner of a gentleman. But this is not known to +the young stranger within the theatrical gates, and through her +ignorance, which is far from bliss, she may be subjected to a +humiliating and even dangerous experience. I am myself one of several +women whom I know to have been victimized in early days. + +The beginner, then, fearing above all things the newspaper, receives one +evening a note common in appearance, coarse in expression, requesting +her acquaintance, and signed "James Flotsam," let us say. Of course she +pays no attention, and two nights later a card reaches her--a very +doubtful one at that--bearing the name "James Flotsam," and in the +corner, _Herald_. She may be about to refuse to see the person, but some +one will be sure to exclaim, "For mercy's sake! don't make an enemy on +the 'press.'" + +And trembling at the idea of being attacked or sneered at in print, +without one thought of asking what _Herald_ this unknown represents, +without remembering that Miller's Pond or Somebody-else's Corners may +have a _Herald_ she hastens to grant to this probably ignorant young +lout the unchaperoned interview she would instantly refuse to a +gentleman whose name was even well known to her; and trembling with fear +and hope she will listen to his boastings "of the awful roasting he gave +Billy This or Dick That," referring thus to the most prominent actors of +the day, or to his promises of puffs for herself "when old Brown or +Smith are out of the office" (the managing and the city editors both +being jealous of him, and blue pencilling him just for spite); and if +Mr. Flotsam does not, without leave, bring up and present his chum, Mr. +Jetsam, the young woman will be fortunate. + +A little quiet thought will convince her that an editor would not assign +such a person to report the burning of a barn or the interruption of a +dog fight, and with deep mortification she will discover her mistake. +The trick is as old as it is contemptible, and many a great paper has +had its name put to the dishonourable use of frightening a young actress +into an acquaintance with a self-styled critic. + +Does this seem a small matter to you? Then you are mistaken. There are +few things more serious for a young woman than an unworthy or +undesirable acquaintance. She will be judged, not by her many correct +friends, but by her one incorrect one. Again, feeling fear of his power +to work her injury, she ceases really to be a free agent, and Heaven +knows what unwise concessions she may be flurried into; and of all the +dangers visible or invisible in the path of a good girl, the most +terrible is "opportunity." If you wish to avoid danger, if you wish to +save yourself some face-reddening memory, give no one the "opportunity" +to abuse your confidence, to wound you by word or deed. Ought I to point +out one other unpleasant possibility? Temptation may approach the +somewhat advanced young actress through money and power in the guise of +the "patron of Art"--not a common form of temptation by any means. But +what _has_ been may be again, and it is none the easier to resist +because it is unusual. When a young girl, with hot impatience, feels she +is not advancing as rapidly as she should, the wealthy "patron of Art" +declares it is folly for her to plod along so slowly, that he will free +her from all trammels, he will provide play, wardrobe, company, and +show the world that she is already an artist. To her trembling objection +that she could only accept such tremendous aid from one of her own +family, he would crushingly reply that "Art" (with a very big A) should +rise above common conventionalities; that he does not think of _her_ +personally, but only the advance of professional "Art"; and if she must +have it so, why-er, she may pay him back in the immediate future, though +if she were the passionate lover of "Art" he had believed her to be, she +would accept the freedom he offered and waste no thought on "ways and +means" or "hows and whys." + +Ah, poor child, the freedom he offers would be a more cruel bondage than +slavery itself! The sensitive, proud girl would never place herself +under such heavy obligations to any one on earth. She would keep her +vanity in check, and patiently or impatiently hold on her way,--free, +independent,--owing her final success to her own honest work and God's +blessing. Every girl should learn these hard words by heart, _Rien ne se +donne, tout se paye ici-bas!_ "Everything is paid for in this world!" + +A number of young girls have asked me to give them some idea of the +duties of a beginner in the profession, or what claims the theatre makes +upon her time. Very well. We will first suppose you a young and +attractive girl. You have been carefully reared and have been protected +by all the conventionalities of refined social life. Now you enter the +theatrical profession, depending solely upon your salary for your +support, meaning to become a great actress and to keep a spotless +reputation, and you will find your work cut out for you. At the stage +door you will have to leave quite a parcel of conventional rules. In the +first place, you will have to go about _alone_ at night as well as by +day. Your salary won't pay for a maid or escort of any kind. That is +very dreadful at first, but in time you will learn to walk swiftly, +with stony face, unseeing eyes, and ears deaf to those hyenas of the +city streets, who make life a misery to the unprotected woman. The rules +of a theatre are many and very exacting, and you must scrupulously obey +them or you will surely be forfeited a stated sum of money. There is no +gallantry in the management of a company, and these forfeits are +genuine, be you man or woman. + +You have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness, here you will +learn that _punctuality_ is next to godliness. As you hope for fame here +and life hereafter, never be late to rehearsal. That is the theatrical +unpardonable sin! You will attend rehearsal at any hour of the day the +manager chooses to call you, but that is rarely, if ever, before 10 A.M. +Your legitimate means of attracting the attention of the management are +extreme punctuality and quick studying of your part. If you can come to +the second rehearsal perfect in your lines, you are bound to attract +attention. Your fellow-players will not love you for it, because they +will seem dull or lazy by comparison; but the stage manager will make a +note, and it may lead to better things. + +Your gowns at this stage of your existence may cause you great anguish +of mind--I do not refer to their cost, but to their selection. You will +not be allowed to say, "I will wear white or I will wear pink," because +the etiquette of the theatre gives the leading lady the first choice of +colours, and after her the lady next in importance, you wearing what is +left. + +In some New York theatres actresses have no word in the selection of +their gowns: they receive plates from the hand of the management, and +dress accordingly. This is enough to whiten the hair of a sensitive +woman, who feels dress should be a means of expression, an outward hint +of the character of the woman she is trying to present. + +Should you not be in a running play, you may be an understudy for one +or two of the ladies who are. You will study their parts, be rehearsed +in their "business," and will then hold yourself in readiness to take, +on an instant's notice, either of their places, in case of sickness, +accident, or ill news coming to either of them. If the parts are good +ones, you will be astonished at the perfect immunity of actresses from +all mishaps; but all the same you may never leave your house without +leaving word as to where you are going and how long you expect to stay. + +You may never go to another theatre without permission of your own +manager; indeed, she is a lucky "understudy" who does not have to report +at the theatre at 7 o'clock every night to see if she is needed. And it +sometimes happens that the only sickness the poor "understudy" knows of +during the whole run of the play is that sickness of deferred hope which +has come to her own heart. + +Not so very hard a day or night, so far as physical labour goes, is it? +But, oh! the sameness, the deadly monotony, of repeating the same words +to the same person at the same moment every night, sick or well, sad or +happy--the same, same words! + +A "one-play" company offers the worst possible chance to the beginner. +The more plays there are, the more you learn from observation, as well +as from personal effort, to make the parts you play seem as unlike one +another as possible. A day like this admits of no drives, no calls, no +"teas"; you see, then, a theatrical life is not one long picnic. + +If there is one among my readers to whom the dim and dingy half-light of +the theatre is dearer than the God-given radiance of the sunlight; if +the burnt-out air with its indescribable odour, seemingly composed of +several parts of cellar mould, a great many parts of dry rot or unsunned +dust, the whole veined through and through with small streaks of escaped +illuminating gas--if this heavy, lifeless air is more welcome to your +nostrils than could be the clover-sweetened breath of the greenest +pasture; if that great black gulf, yawning beyond the extinguished +footlights, makes your heart leap up at your throat; if without noting +the quality or length of your part the just plain, bald fact of "acting +something" thrills you with nameless joy; if the rattle-to-bang of the +ill-treated old overture dances through your blood, and the rolling up +of the curtain on the audience at night is to you as the magic +blossoming of a mighty flower--if these are the things that you feel, +your fate is sealed: Nature is imperious; and through brain, heart, and +nerve she cries to you, ACT, ACT, ACT! and act you must! Yes, I know +what I have said of the difficulties in your way, but I have faith to +believe that, if God has given you a peculiar talent, God will aid you +to find a way properly to exercise that talent. You may receive many +rebuffs, but you must keep on trying to get into a stock company if +possible, or, next best, to get an engagement with a star who produces +many plays. Take anything, no matter how small, to begin with. You will +learn how to walk, to stand still--a tremendous accomplishment. You will +get acquainted with your own hands, and cease to worry about them. + +You can train your brain by studying Shakespeare and the old comedies. +Study not merely the leading part, but all the female parts; it is not +only good training, but you never know when an opportunity may come to +you. The element of "chance" enters very largely into the theatrical +life. Above all, try to remember the lines of every female character in +the play you are acting in; it might mean a sudden rise in your position +if you could go on, at a moment's notice, and play the part of some one +suddenly taken ill. + +Then work, work, and above all observe. Never fail to watch the acting +of those about you. Get at the cause of the effects. Avoid the faults, +and profit by the good points of the actors before you, but never permit +yourself to imitate them. + +One suggestion I would make is to keep your eyes open for signs of +character in the real life about you. The most successful bit of +business I had in "Camille" I copied from a woman I saw in a Broadway +car. If a face impresses you, study it, try afterward to recall its +expression. Note how different people express their anger: some are +redly, noisily angry; some are white and cold in their rage. All these +things will make precious material for you to draw upon some day, when +you have a character to create; and you will not need to say, "Let me +see, Miss So-and-So would stand like this, and speak very fast, or very +slow," etc. + +You will do independent work, good work, and will never be quite +satisfied with it, but will eagerly try again, for great artists are so +constituted; and the hard life of disappointments, self-sacrifices, and +many partings, where strong, sweet friendships are formed only to be +broken by travelling orders, will all be forgotten when, the glamour of +the footlights upon you, saturated with light, thrilling to music, +intoxicated with applause, you find the audience is an instrument for +you to play upon at will. And such a moment of conscious, almost divine +power is the reward that comes to those who sacrifice many things that +they may act. + +So if you really are one of these, I can only say, "Act, act!" and +Heaven have you in its holy keeping. + +But, dear gifted woman, pause before you put your hand to the plough +that will turn your future into such strange furrows; remember, the life +of the theatre is a hard life, a homeless life; that it is a wandering +up and down the earth; a life filled full with partings, with sweet, +lost friendships; that its triumphs are brilliant but brief. If you do +truly love acting, simply and solely for the sake of acting, then all +will be well with you, and you will be content; but verily you will be a +marvel. + +For the poor girl or woman who, because she has to earn her own living, +longs to become an actress, my heart aches. + +You will say good-by to mother's petting; you will live in your trunk. +The time will come when that poor hotel trunk (so called to distinguish +it from the trunk that goes to the theatre, when you are travelling or +en route), with its dents and scars, will be the only friendly object to +greet you in your desolate boarding-house, with its one wizened, +unwilling gas-burner, and its outlook upon back yards and cats, or roofs +and sparrows, its sullen, hard-featured bed, its despairing carpet; for +you see, you will not have the money that might take you to the front of +the house and four burners. Rain or shine, you will have to make your +lonely, often frightened way to and from the theatre. At rehearsals you +will have to stand about, wearily waiting hours while others rehearse +over and over again their more important scenes; yet you may not leave +for a walk or a chat, for you do not know at what moment your scene may +be called. You will not be made much of. You will receive a "Good +morning" or "Good evening" from the company, probably nothing more. If +you are travelling, you will literally _live_ in your hat and cloak. You +will breakfast in them many and many a time, you will dine in them +regularly, that you may rise at once and go to the theatre or car. You +will see no one, go nowhere. + +If you are in earnest, you will simply endure the first year,--endure +and study,--and all for what? That, after dressing in the corner +farthest from the looking-glass, in a dismal room you would scarcely use +for your housemaid's brooms and dusters at home, you may stand for a few +moments in the background of some scene, and watch the leading lady +making the hit in the foreground. Will these few, well-dressed, +well-lighted, music-thrilled moments repay you for the loss of home +love, home comfort, home stardom? + +To that bright, energetic girl, just home from school, overeducated, +perhaps, with nothing to do, restless,--forgive me,--vain, who wants to +go upon the stage, let me say: "Pause a moment, my dear, in your +comfortable home, and think of the unemployed actresses who are +suffering from actual want. Is there one among you, who, if you had the +chance, would care to strike the bread from the hand of one of these? +Ask God that the scales of unconscious selfishness may fall from your +eyes. Look about you and see if there is not some duty, however small, +the more irksome the better, that you may take from your mother's daily +load, some service you can render for father, brother, sister, aunt; +some daily household task, so small you may feel contemptuous of it, +yet some one must do it, and it may be a special thorn in that some +one's side. So surely as you force yourself to do the small things +nearest your hand, so surely will you be called upon for greater +service." + +And oh! my dears, my dears, a loving mother's declaration, "I don't know +what I should do without my daughter," is sweeter and more precious than +the careless applause of strangers. Try, then, to be patient; find some +occupation, if it is nothing more than the weekly putting in order of +bureau drawers for some unusually careless member of the family; and, +having a good home, thank God and your parents, and stay in it. + +And now, having added the insult of preaching at you to the injury of +disappointing you, I suppose you will accuse me of rank hypocrisy; but +you will be wrong, because with outstretched hands I stand and proclaim +myself your well-wisher and your friend. + + + + +_CHAPTER II + +THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE_ + + +How often we hear people say, "Oh, that's only a play!" or "That could +only happen in a play!" and yet it's surprising how often actors receive +proof positive that their plays are reflecting happenings in real life. + +When Mr. Daly had "L'Article 47" on, at the 5th Avenue Theatre, for +instance, the key-note of the play was the insanity of the heroine. In +the second, most important act, before her madness had been openly +proclaimed, it had to be indicated simply by manner, tone, and gesture; +and the one action of drawing the knee up into her clasping arms, and +then swaying the body mechanically from side to side, while muttering +rapidly to herself, thrilled the audience with the conviction of her +affliction more subtly than words could have done. One night, when that +act was on, I had just begun to sway from side to side, when from the +auditorium there arose one long, _long_, agonizing wail, and that wail +was followed by the heavy falling of a woman's body from her chair into +the centre aisle. + +In an instant all was confusion, every one sprang to his feet; even the +musicians, who were playing some creepy, incidental music, as was the +fashion then, stopped and half rose from their places. It was a dreadful +moment! Somehow I kept a desperate hold upon my strained and startled +nerves and swayed on from side to side. Mr. Stoepel, the leader, glanced +at me. I caught his eye and said quick and low, "Play! play!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "L'Article 47"_] + +He understood; but instead of simply resuming where he had left off, +from force of habit he first gave the leader's usual three sharp taps +upon his music desk, and then--so queer a thing is an audience--those +people, brought to their feet in an agony of terror, of fire, panic, and +sudden death by a woman's cry, now at that familiar tap, tap, tap, broke +here and there into laughter. By sixes and sevens, then by tens and +twenties, they sheepishly seated themselves, only turning their heads +with pitying looks while the ushers removed the unconscious woman. + +When the act was over, Mr. Daly--a man of few words on such +occasions--held my hands hard for a moment, and said, "Good girl, good +girl!" and I, pleased, deprecatingly remarked, "It was the music, sir, +that quieted them," to which he made answer, "And it was you who ordered +the music!" + +Verily, no single word could be spoken on his stage without his +knowledge. Later that evening we learned that the lady who had cried out +had been brought to the theatre by friends who hoped to cheer her up +(Heaven save the mark!) and help her to forget her dreadful and recent +experience of placing her own mother in an insane asylum. Learned, too, +that her very first suspicion of that poor mother's condition had come +from finding her one morning sitting up in bed, her arms embracing her +knees, while she swayed from side to side unceasingly, muttering low and +fast all the time. + +Poor lady! no wonder her worn nerves gave way when all unexpectedly that +dread scene was reproduced before her, and worse still before the +staring public. + +Then Mr. Charles Matthews, the veteran English comedian, came over to +act at Mr. Daly's. His was a graceful, polished, volatile style of +acting, and he had a high opinion of his power as a maker of fun; so +that he was considerably annoyed one night when he discovered that one +of his auditors would not laugh. Laugh? would not even smile at his +efforts. + +Mr. Matthews, who was past seventy, was nervous, excitable,--and, well, +just a wee bit _cranky_; and when the play was about half over, he came +"off," angrily talking to himself, and ran against Mr. Lewis and me, as +we were just about "going on." Instantly he exclaimed, "Look here! look +here!" taking from his vest pocket a broad English gold piece and +holding it out on his hand, then added, "And look there! look there!" +pointing out a gentleman sitting in the opposite box. + +"Do you see that stupid dolt over there? Well, I've toiled over him till +I sweat like a harvest hand, and laugh--he won't; smile--he won't." + +I remarked musingly, "He looks like a graven image"; while Lewis +suggested cheerfully, "Perhaps he is one." + +"No, no!" groaned the unfortunate star, "I'm afraid not! I'm--I'm +almost certain I saw him move once. But look here now, you're a deucedly +funny pair; just turn yourselves loose in this scene. I'll protect you +from Daly,--do anything you like,--and the one who makes that wooden man +laugh, wins this gold piece." + +It was not the gold piece that tempted us to our fall, but the hope of +succeeding where the star had failed. I seized one moment in which to +notify old man Davidge of what was going on, as he had a prominent part +in the coming scene, and then we were on the stage. + +The play was "The Critic," the scene a burlesque rehearsal of an +old-time melodrama. Our opportunities were great, and Heaven knows we +missed none of them. New York audiences are quick, and in less than +three minutes they knew the actors had taken the bit between their teeth +and were off on a mad race of fun. Everything seemed to "go." We three +knew one another well. Each saw another's idea and caught it, with the +certainty of a boy catching a ball. The audience roared with laughter; +the carpenters and scene-shifters--against the rule of the +theatre--crowded into the entrances with answering laughter; but the man +in the box gave no sign. + +Worse and worse we went on. Mr. Daly, white with anger, came behind the +scene, gasping out, "Are they utterly mad?" to the little Frenchman whom +he had made prompter because he could not speak English well enough to +prompt us; who, frantically pulling his hair, cried, "Oui! oui! zey are +all mad--mad like ze dog in ze summer-time!" + +Mr. Daly stamped his feet and cleared his throat to attract our +attention; but, trusting to Mr. Matthews's protection, we grinned +cheerfully at him and continued on our downward path. At last we reached +the "climax," and suddenly I heard Mr. Matthews say, "She's got +him--look--I think she's won!" + +I could not help it--I turned my head to see if the "graven image" could +really laugh. Yes, he was moving! his face wore some faint expression; +but--but he was turning slowly to the laughing audience, and the +expression on his face was one of _wonder!_ + +Matthews groaned aloud, the curtain fell, and Daly was upon us. Matthews +said the cause of the whole business was that man in the box; while Mr. +Daly angrily declared, "The man in the box could have nothing to do with +the affair, since he was _deaf_ and _dumb_, and had been all his life." + +I remember sitting down very hard and very suddenly. I remember that +Davidge, who was an Englishman, "blasted" a good many things under his +breath; and then Mr. Matthews, exclaiming with wonder, told us he had +been playing for years in a farce where this very scene was enacted, the +whole play consisting in the actors' efforts to win the approbation of a +man who was a deaf mute. + +So once more a play was found to reflect a situation in real life. + +[Illustration: _Charles Matthews_] + + + + +_CHAPTER III + +IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S_ + + +"Divorce" had just settled down for its long run, when one evening I +received a letter whose weight and bulk made me wonder whether the +envelope contained a "last will and testament" or a "three-act play." On +opening it I found it perfectly correct in appearance, on excellent +paper, in the clearest handwriting, and using the most perfect +orthography and grammar: a gentleman had nevertheless gently, almost +tenderly, reproached me for using _the story of his life_ for the play. + +He said he knew Mr. Daly's name was on the bills as author; but as I +was an Ohio woman, he of course understood perfectly that I had +furnished Mr. D. with _his_ story for the play. He explained at great +length that he forgave me because I had not given Mr. Daly his real +name, and also remarked, in rather an aggrieved way, that _he_ had two +children and only one appeared in the play. He also seemed considerably +surprised that Mr. Harkins (who played my husband) did not wear a large +red beard, as every one, he said, knew _he_ had not shaved for years. + +My laughter made its way over the transom, and in a moment my neighbour +was at the dressing-room door, asking for something she did not need, +that she might find out the why and wherefore of the fun; and when the +red beard had started her off, another came for something she knew I +didn't own, and she too fell before the beard; while a third writhed +over the forgiveness extended to me, and exclaimed:-- + +"Oh, the well-educated idiot, isn't he delicious?" + +By and by the letter started to make a tour of the gentlemen's rooms, +and, unlike the rolling-stone that gathered no moss, it gathered +laughter as it moved. + +It was only Mr. Daly who astonished me by not laughing. He, instead, +seemed quite gratified that his play had so clearly reflected a real +life story. + +In the business world of New York there was known at that time a pair of +brothers; they were in dry-goods. The firm was new, and they were +naturally anxious to extend their trade. The buyer for a merchant in the +far Northwest had placed a small order with the brothers B., which had +proved so satisfactory that the merchant coming himself to New York the +next fall informed the brothers of his intention of dealing heavily with +them. Of course they were much pleased. They had received him warmly and +had offered him some hospitality, which latter he declined; but as it +was late in the day, and as he was an utter stranger to the city, he +asked if there was anything going on that would help pass an evening for +him; and the elder Mr. B. had instantly answered, Yes; that there was a +big success "on" at Daly's Theatre, right next door to the Fifth Avenue +Hotel, at which the stranger was stopping. And so with thanks and bows, +and a smiling promise to be at the store at ten o'clock the next +morning, ready for business, the brothers and the Western merchant +parted. + +I happened to be in the store next morning before ten, and the elder B., +who was one of my few acquaintances, was chatting to me of nothing in +particular, when I saw such an expression of surprise come into his +face, that I turned at once in the direction his glance had taken, and +saw a man plunging down the aisle toward us, like an ugly steer. He +looked a cross between a Sabbath-school superintendent and a cattle +dealer. He was six feet tall and very clumsy, and wore the black +broadcloth of the church and the cow-hide boots, big hat, and woollen +comforter of the cattle man; while his rage was so evident that even +organ-grinders and professional beggars fled from his presence. On he +came, stamping and shaking his head steerlike. One expected every moment +to hear him bellow. When he came up to Mr. B., it really did seem that +the man must fall in a fit. When he could speak, he burst into +vituperation and profanity. He d----d the city, its founders, and its +present occupants. He d----d Mr. B., his ancestors, his relatives near +and distant, by blood and by law; but he was exceptionally florid when +he came to tell Mr. B. how many kinds of a fool he was. + +When his breath was literally gone, my unfortunate friend, who had +alternately flushed and paled under the attack, said:-- + +"Mr. Dash, if you will be good enough to explain what this is all +about--" + +"Explain!" howled the enraged man, "explain! in the place where I come +from our jokes don't need to be explained. You ring-tail gibbering ape, +come out here on the sidewalk, and I'll explain!" + +Then he paused an instant, as a new thought came to him. + +"Oh, yes," he cried, "and if I take you out there, to lick some of the +_fun_ out of you, one of your constables will jump on to me! You're a +sweet, polite lot, to play jokes on strangers, and then hide behind your +constables!" + +Then his voice fell, his eyes narrowed, he looked an ugly customer as he +approached Mr. B., saying:-- + +"You thought it d----d funny to send me to that play last night, on +purpose to show me you knew I had just got a divorce from my wife! And +if I have divorced her, let me tell you she's a finer woman than you +ever knew in your whole fool life! It was d----d funny, wasn't it, to +send a lonely man--a stranger--into a playhouse to see his own misery +acted out before him! Well, in New York that may be fun, and call for +laughter, but at my home it would call for _bullets_--and get 'em too!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Alixe"._] + +And he turned and strode out. Mr. B. had failed to mention the name of +the play when he recommended it; and the Western man, whose skin seemed +as sensitive as it was thick, thought that he was being made fun of, +when the play of "Divorce" unfolded before him. + +When "Alixe" was produced, there was one feature of the play that +aroused great curiosity. Mr. Daly was called upon again and again to +decide wagers, and considerable money changed hands over the question, +before people could be convinced that it was I who was carried upon the +stage, and not a waxen image of me. + +Many people will remember that in that heart-rending play, Alixe, the +innocent victim of others' wrong-doing, is carried on dead,--drowned,--and +lies for the entire act in full view of the audience. Now that was the +only play I ever saw before playing in it; and in Paris the Alixe had +been so evidently alive that the play was quite ruined. + +When I had that difficult scene intrusted to me, I thought long and +hard, trying to find some way to conceal my breathing. I knew I could +"make-up" my face all right--but that evident breathing. I had always +noticed that the tighter a woman laced, the higher she breathed and the +greater was the movement of her chest and bust. That gave me a hint. I +took off my corset. Still when lying down there was movement that an +opera glass would betray. + +Then I tried a little trick. Alixe wore white of a soft crépy material. +I had duplicate dresses made, only one was very loose in the waist. Then +I had a great big circular cloak of the same white material, quite +unlined; and when I was made up for the death scene, with lilies and +grasses in hand and hair, I stood upon a chair and held a corner of the +great soft cloak against my breast, while my maid carefully wound the +rest of it loosely about my body, round and round, right down to my +ankles, and fastened it there; result: a long, white-robed figure, +without one trace of waist line or bust, and beneath ample room for +natural breathing, without even the tremor of a fold to betray it. + +At once the question rose, was it a wax figure or was it not? One +gentleman came to Mr. Daly and asked him for the artist's address, +saying the likeness to Miss Morris was so perfect it might be herself, +and he wanted to get a wax model of his wife. Nor would he be convinced +until Mr. Daly finally brought him back to the stage, and he saw me +unpin my close drapery, and trot off to my dressing-room. + +The play was a great success, and often the reading of the suicide's +letter was punctuated by actual sobs from the audience, instead of +those from the mother. Young club-men used to make a point of going to +the "Saturday Funeral," as they called the "Alixe" matinee. They would +gather afterward, opposite to the theatre, and make fun of the women's +faces as they came forth with tear-streaked cheeks, red noses, and +swollen eyes, and making frantic efforts to slip powder-puffs under +their veils and repair damages. If glances could have killed, there +would have been mourning in earnest in the houses of the club-men. + +One evening, as the audience was nearly out and the lights were being +extinguished in the auditorium, a young man came back and said to an +usher:-- + +"There is a gentleman up there in the balcony; you'd better see to him, +before the lights are all put out." + +"A gentleman? what's he doing there, at this time, I'd like to know?" +grumbled the usher as he climbed up the stairs. But next moment he was +calling for help, for there in a front seat, fallen forward, with his +head on the balcony rail, sat an old man whose silvery white hair +reflected the faint light that fell upon it. They carried him to the +office; and after stimulants had been administered he recovered and +apologized for the trouble he had caused. As he seemed weak and shaken, +Mr. Daly thought one of the young men ought to see him safely home, but +he said:-- + +"No, he was only in New York on business--he was at a hotel but a few +steps away, and--and--" he hesitated. "You are thinking I had no right +to go to a theatre alone," he added, "but I am not a sick +man--only--only to-night I received an awful shock." + +He paused. Mr. Daly noted the quiver of his firm old lips. He dismissed +the usher; then he turned courteously to the old gentleman and said:-- + +"As it was in my theatre you received that shock, will you explain it +to me?" + +And in a low voice the stranger told him that he had had a daughter, an +only child, a little blond, laughing thing, whom he worshipped. She was +a mere child when she fell in love. Her choice had not pleased him, and +looking upon the matter as a fancy merely, he had forbidden further +intercourse between the lovers. "And--and it was in the summer, +and--dear God, when that yellow-haired girl was carried dead upon the +stage to-night, even the grass clutched between her fingers, it was a +repetition of what occurred in my country home, sir, three years ago." + +Then Mr. Daly gave his arm to the old stranger, and in dead silence they +walked to the hotel and parted. + +Once more the play had reflected real life. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV + +"MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +Mr. Palmer had produced "Miss Multon" at the Union Square, and we were +fast settling down to our steady, regular gait, having got over the +false starts and breaks and nervous shyings of the opening performance, +when another missive of portentous bulk reached me. + +It was one of those letters in which you can find everything except an +end; and the writer was one of those men whose subjects, like an +unhealthy hair, always split at the end, making at least two subjects +out of one. + +For instance, he started to show me the resemblance between his life and +the story of the play; but when he came to mention his wife, the hair +split, and instead of continuing, he branched off, to tell me she was +the step-daughter of "So-and-so," that her own father, who was +"Somebody," had died of "something," and had been buried "somewhere"; +and then that hair split, and he proceeded to expatiate on the two +fathers' qualities, and state their different business occupations, +after which, out of breath, and far, far from the original subject, he +had to hark back two and a half pages and tackle his life again. + +Truth to tell, it was rather pathetic reading when he kept to the point, +for love for his wife cropped out plainly between the lines after years +of separation. Suddenly he began to adorn me with a variety of fine +qualities. He assured me that I had penetration, clear judgment, and a +sense of justice, as well as a warm heart. + +I was staggering under these piled-up traits, when he completely floored +me, so to speak, by asking me to take his case under consideration, +assuring me he would act upon my advice. If I thought he had been too +severe in his conduct toward his wife, to say so, and he would seek her +out, and humble himself before her, and ask her to return to him. + +He also asked me whether, as a woman, I thought she would be influenced +wholly by the welfare of her children, or whether she would be likely to +retain a trace of affection for himself. + +That letter was an outrage. The idea of appealing to me, who had not had +the experience of a single divorce to rely upon! Even my one husband was +so recent an acquisition as to be still considered a novelty. And yet I, +all unacquainted with divorce proceedings, legal separations, and +common law ceremonies, was called upon to make this strange man's +troubles my own, to sort out his domestic woes, and say:-- + +"This sin" is yours, but "that sin" is hers, and "those other sins" +belong wholly to the co-respondent. + +What a useful word that is! It has such a decent sound, almost +respectable. We are a refined people, even in our sins, and I know no +word in the English language we strive harder to avoid using in any of +its forms than that word of brutal vulgarity, but terrific +meaning--adultery. + +The adulterer may be in our midst, but we have refinement enough to +refer to him as the "So-and-So's" co-respondent. + +I was engaged in saying things more earnest and warm than correct and +polished--things I fear the writer of the letter could not have approved +of--when I was pulled up short by the opening words of another +paragraph, which said: "God! if women suffer in real life over the loss +of children, husband, and home, as you suffered before my very eyes last +night in the play; if my wife is tortured like that, it would have been +better for me to have passed out of life, and have left her in peace. +But I did not know that women suffered so. Help me, advise me." + +I could not ignore that last appeal. What my answer was you will not +care to know; but if it was brief, it was at least not flippant; and +before writing it, I, in my turn, appealed for help, only my appeal was +made upon my knees to the Great Authority. + + * * * * * + +On election nights it is customary for the manager to read or have read +to the audience the returns as fast as they come in from various points, +showing how the voting has gone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris and James Parselle in 3d Act of "Miss +Multon"_] + +An election was just over, when one evening a small incident occurred +during a performance of "Miss Multon" that we would gladly have +dispensed with. In the quarrel scene between the two women, the first +and supposedly dead wife, in her character of governess to her own +children, is goaded by the second wife into such a passion that she +finally throws off all concealment and declares her true character and +name. + +The scene was a strong one, and was always looked forward to eagerly by +the audience. + +On the evening I speak of the house was packed almost to suffocation. +The other characters in the play had withdrawn, and for the first time +the two women were alone together. Both keyed up almost to the breaking +point, we faced each other, and there was a dead, I might almost say a +_deadly_ pause before either spoke. + +It was very effective--that silence before the storm. People would lean +forward and fairly hold their breath, feeling there was a death struggle +coming. And just at that very moment of tensest feeling, as we two +women silently measured each other, a man's voice clearly and +exultantly declared:-- + +"Well, _now_, we'll get the returns read, I reckon." + +In one instant the whole house was in a roar of laughter. Under cover of +the noise I said to my companion, who was showing her annoyance, "Keep +still! keep still!" + +And as we stood there like statues, utterly ignoring the interruption, +there was a sudden outbreak of hissing, and the laughter stopped as +suddenly as it had burst out, and our scene went on, receiving even more +than its usual meed of applause. But when the curtain had fallen, I had +my own laugh; for _it was_ funny, very funny. + +In Boston there was an interruption of a different nature. It was at a +matinee performance. There were tear-wet faces everywhere you looked. +The last act was on. I was slipping to my knees in my vain entreaty to +be allowed to see my children as their mother, not merely as their +dying governess, when a tall, slim, black-robed woman rose up in the +parquet. She flung out her arms in a superb gesture, and in a voice of +piercing anguish cried:-- + +"For God's sake, let her have her children! I've lived through such +loss, but she can't; it will kill her!" + +Tears sprang to the eyes of every one on the stage, and there was a +perceptible halt in the movement of the play. And when, at the death +scene, a lady was carried out in a faint, we were none of us surprised +to hear it was _she_ who had so far forgotten where she was as to make +that passionate plea for a woman whose suffering was probably but a +faint reflection of her own. + + + + +_CHAPTER V + +THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +One night at the Union Square Theatre, when the "New Magdalen" was +running, we became aware of the presence of a distinguished visitor--a +certain actress from abroad. + +As I looked at the beautiful woman, magnificently dressed and jewelled, +I found it simply impossible to believe the stories I had heard of her +frightful poverty, in the days of her lowly youth. + +Her manner was listless, her expression bored; even the conversation +which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while +her applause was so plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss +being a courtesy at all. + +When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful +five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister +is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear, +lest her _ennui_ should find some unpleasant outward expression. +However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could. + +As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my +lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was +almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her +face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn. + +I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:-- + +"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation." + +Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of her chair, and she lifted +herself upright. I went on:-- + +"I was alone--the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak +closely about her.) "The night was coming on--and--and--I +begged--_openly_--LOUDLY--as only a hungry child can beg." + +She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the +perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at +her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour. + +The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I +responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch +of roses. + +A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when +with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she +said:-- + +"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite +please me." + +"I do not understand," I answered. + +She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a +sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it +amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own +childhood." + +At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't--please don't--" + +I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she +understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look +shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly +toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the +opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was the play reflecting +real life. + +But surely I have given instances enough in illustration of my original +claim that the most dramatic scenes in plays are generally the mere +reflections of happenings in real life; while the recognition of such +scenes often causes a serious interruption to the play, though goodness +knows there are plenty of interruptions from other causes. + +One that comes often to my mind occurred at Daly's. He once tried to +keep the theatre open in the summer-time--that was a failure. Two or +three plays were tried, then he abandoned the scheme. But while "No +Name" was on, Mr. Parks was cast for a part he was utterly unsuited for. +He stamped and stammered out his indignation and objection, but he was +not listened to, so on he went. + +During the play he was found seated at a table; and he not answering a +question put to him, his housekeeper knelt at his side, lifted his hand, +and let it fall, heavily, then in awed tones exclaimed, "He is dead!" + +Now there is no use denying that, clever actor as he was, he was very, +_very_ bad in that part; and on the third night, when the housekeeper +let his hand fall and said, "He is dead!" in clear and hearty response +from the gallery came the surprising words, "Thank God!" + +The laughter that followed was not only long-continued, but it broke +out again and again. As one young woman earnestly remarked next day: +"You see he so perfectly expressed all our feelings. We were all as +thankful as the man in the gallery, but we didn't like to say so." + +Parks, however, was equal to the occasion. He gravely suggested that Mr. +Daly would do well to engage that chap, as he was the only person who +had made a hit in the play. + +Parks was, by the way, very droll in his remarks about theatrical +matters. One day Mr. Daly concluded he would "cut" one of the acts we +were rehearsing, and it happened that Parks's part, which was already +short, suffered severely. He, of course, said nothing, but a little +later he introduced a bit of business which was very funny, but really +did not suit the scene. Mr. Daly noticed it, and promptly cut that out +too. Then was Parks wroth indeed. + +After rehearsal, he and Mr. Lewis were walking silently homeward, when +they came upon an Italian street musician. The man ground at his movable +piano, the wife held the tambourine, while his leggy little daughter +danced with surprising grace on the stone walk. As she trotted about +gathering her harvest of pennies, Parks put his hand on her shoulder and +said solemnly:-- + +"You ought to be devilish glad you're not in Daly's company; he'd cut +that dance out if you were." + +One evening in New Orleans, when we were playing "Camille," a coloured +girl, who had served me as dressing-maid, came to see me, and I gave her +a "pass," that she might see from the "front" the play she had so often +dressed me for. She went to the gallery and found herself next to a +young black man, who had brought his sweetheart to see her first play. + +The girl was greatly impressed and easily moved, and at the fourth act, +when Armand hurled the money at me, striking me in the face, she turned +to her young man, saying savagely, "You, Dave, you got ter lay for dat +white man ter night, an' lick der life outen him." + +Next moment I had fallen at Armand's feet. The curtain was down and the +girl was excitedly declaring, I was dead! while Dave assured her over +and over again, "No, honey, she carn't be dead yit, 'cause, don' yer +see, der's anudder act, an' she just nacherly's got ter be in it." + +When, however, the last act was on, it was Dave himself who did the +business. The pathetic death scene was almost over, when applause broke +from the upper part of the house. Instantly a mighty and unmistakable +negro voice, said: "Hush--hush! She's climin' der golden stair dis time, +shure--keep still!" + +My devoted "Nannine" leaned over me to hide my laughing face from the +audience, who quickly recovered from the interruption, while for once +Camille, the heart-broken, died with a laugh in her throat. + +In the same city I had, one matinee, to come down three steps on to the +stage. I was quite gorgeous in one of my best gowns; for one likes to +dress for Southern girls, they are so candidly pleased with your pretty +things. My skirt caught on a nail at the very top step, so that when I +reached the stage my train was stretched out full length, and in the +effort a scene-hand made to free it, it turned over, so that the +rose-pink lining could be plainly seen, when an awed voice exclaimed, +"For de Lor's sake, dat woman's silk lin'd clear frou!" and the +performance began in a gale of laughter. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI + +"ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY_ + + +An odd and somewhat touching little incident occurred one evening when +we were in the far Northwest. There was a blizzard on just then, and the +cold was something terrible. I had a severe attack of throat trouble, +and my doctor had been with me most of the day. His little boy, hearing +him speak of me, was seized with a desire to go to the theatre, and +coaxed so well that his father promised to take him. + +The play was "Odette." The doctor and his pretty little son sat in the +end seats of the parquet circle, close to the stage and almost facing +the whole house. The little fellow watched his first play closely. As +the comedy bit went on, he smiled up at his father, saying audibly, "I +like her--don't you, papa?" + +Papa silenced him, while a few people who had overheard smiled over the +child's unconsciousness of observers. But when I had changed my dress +and crept into the darkened room in a _robe de chambre_; when the +husband had discovered my wrong-doing and was driving me out of his +house, a child's cry of protest came from the audience. At the same +moment, the husband raised his hand to strike. I repelled him with a +gesture and went staggering off the stage; while that indignant little +voice cried, "Papa! papa! can't you have that man arrested?" and the +curtain fell. + +One of the actors ran to the peep-hole in the curtain, and saw the +doctor leading out the little man, who was then crying bitterly, the +audience smiling and applauding him, one might say affectionately. + +A bit later the doctor came to my dressing-room to apologize and to tell +me the rest of it. When the curtain had fallen, the child had begged: +"Take me out--take me out!" and the doctor, thinking he might be ill, +rose and led him out. No sooner had they reached the door, however, than +he pulled his hand away, crying: "Quick, papa! quick! you go round the +block that way, and I'll run round this way, and we'll be sure to find +that poor lady that's out in the cold--just in her nighty!" + +In vain he tried to explain, the child only grew more wildly excited; +and finally the doctor promised, if the child would come home at once, +only two blocks away, he would return and look for the lady--in the +nighty. And he had taken the little fellow home and had seen him fling +himself into his mother's arms, and with tears and sobs tell her of the +"poor lady whose husband had driven her right out into the blizzard, +don't you think, mamma, and only her nighty on; and, mamma, she hadn't +done one single bad thing--not one!" + +Poor, warm-hearted, innocent little man; he was assured later on that +the lady had been found and taken to a hotel; and I hope his next play +was better suited to his tender years. + +In Philadelphia we had a very ludicrous interruption during the last act +of "Man and Wife." The play was as popular as the Wilkie Collins' story +from which it had been taken, and therefore the house was crowded. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Odette"_] + +I was lying on the bed in the darkened room, in that profound and +swift-coming sleep known, alas! only to the stage hero or heroine. The +paper on the wall began to move noiselessly aside, and in the opening +thus disclosed at the head of the bed, lamp-illumined, appeared the +murderous faces of Delamain and Hesther Detheridge. As the latter +raised the wet, suffocating napkin that was to be placed over my face, a +short, fat man in the balcony started to his feet, and broke the creepy +silence with the shout:-- + +"Mein Gott in Himmel! vill dey murder her alreaty?" + +Some one tried to pull him down into his seat, but he struck the hand +away, crying loudly, "Stob it! stob it, I say!" And while the people +rocked back and forth with laughter, an usher led the excited German +out, declaring all the way that "A blay vas a blay, but somedings might +be dangerous even in a blay! unt dat ting vat he saw should be stobbed +alreaty!" Meantime I had quite a little rest on my bed before quiet +could be restored and the play proceed. + +I have often wondered if any audience in the world can be as quick to +see a point as is the New York audience. During my first season in this +city there was a play on at Mr. Daly's that I was not in, but I was +looking on at it. + +In one scene there stood a handsome bronze bust on a tall pedestal. From +a careless glance I took it to be an Ariadne. At the changing of the +scene the pedestal received a blow that toppled it over, and the +beautiful "bronze" bust broke into a hundred pieces of white plaster. + +The laughter that followed was simply caused by the discovery of a stage +trick. The next character coming upon the stage was played by Miss +Newton, in private life known as Mrs. Charles Backus, wife of the then +famous minstrel. No sooner did she appear upon the stage, not even +speaking one line, than the laugh broke forth again, swelled, and grew, +until the entire audience joined in one great roar. I expected to see +the lady embarrassed, distressed; but not she! After her first startled +glance at the house, she looked at the pedestal, and then she, too, +laughed, when the audience gave a hearty round of applause, which she +acknowledged. + +A scene-hand, noticing my amazed face, said, "You don't see it, do you?" + +"No," I answered. + +"Well," said he, "did you know who that bust was?" + +"Yes," I replied, "I think it was Ariadne." + +"Oh, no!" he said, "it was a bust of Bacchus; then, when Mrs. Backus +appeared--" + +"Oh!" I interrupted. "They all said to themselves: 'Poor Backus is +broken all up! Backus has busted!'" + +And that was why they laughed; and she saw it and laughed with them, and +they saw _that_ and applauded her. Well, that's a quick-witted +audience--an opinion I still retain. + +People are fond of saying, "A woman can't keep a secret." Well, perhaps +she doesn't keep her secrets forever; but here's how two women kept a +secret for a good many years, and betrayed it through a scene in a +play. + +Mr. Daly's treasurer had given tickets to some friends for a performance +of "Divorce." They were ladies--mother and daughter. At first greatly +pleased, the elder lady soon began to grow nervous, then tearful as the +play went on; and her daughter, watching her closely, was about to +propose their retirement, when the mother, with clasped hands and +tear-blurred eyes, seeing the stealing of my little son by the order of +his father, thrilled the audience and terrified her daughter by flinging +up her arms and crying wildly: "Don't do it! for God's sake, don't do +it! You don't know what agony it means!" and fell fainting against the +frightened girl beside her. + +Great confusion followed; the ushers, assisted by those seated near, +removed the unconscious woman to Mr. Daly's private office; but so +greatly had her words affected the people, that when the men on the +stage escaped through the window with the child in their arms, the +curtain fell to a volley of hisses. + +In the office, as smelling salts, water, and fresh air were brought into +requisition, in answer to a question of Mr. Daly's, the treasurer was +saying, "She is Mrs. W----, a widow," when a faint voice interrupted, +"No--no; I'm no widow!" + +The treasurer smiled pityingly, and continued, "I have known her +intimately for twelve years, sir; she is the widow of--" + +"No--no!" came the now sobbing voice. "No--no! Oh, Daisy, dear, tell +him! tell him!" + +And the young girl, very white, and trembling visibly, said: "I hope you +will forgive us, Mr. W----, but from causeless jealousy my father +deserted mother, and--and he stole my little brother, mamma's only son! +We have never heard of either of them since. Widowhood seemed a sort of +protection to poor mamma, and she has hidden behind its veil for +sixteen years. She meant no harm. She would have told you before--" + +She turned crimson and stopped, but that burning blush told its story +plainly; and Mr. Daly busied himself over the pouring of a glass of wine +for the robbed mother, while the treasurer in low tones assured Daisy +there was nothing to forgive, and gratefully accepted the permission +granted him to see the poor things safely home. + +Sixteen years' silence is not so bad for a sex who can't keep a secret! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII + +A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"_ + + +It was before I came to New York that I one night saw a really fine +performance almost ruined by a single interruption. It was a domestic +tragedy of English rural life, and one act began with a tableau copied +exactly from a popular painting called "Waiting for the Verdict," which +was also the title of the play. + +The scene gave an exterior view of the building within which the husband +and father was being tried for his life on a charge of murder. The +trembling old grandsire leaned heavily on his staff; the devoted wife +sat wearily by the closed iron gate, with a babe on her breast, tired +but vigilant; a faithful dog stretched himself at her feet, while his +shaggy shoulders pillowed the head of the sleeping child, who was the +accused man's darling. + +The curtain rose on this picture, which was always heartily greeted, and +often, so well it told its pathetic story, a second and a third round of +applause greeted it before the dialogue began. The manager's little +daughter, who did the sleeping child, contracted a cold and was advised +not to venture out of the house for a fortnight, so a substitute had to +be found, and a fine lot of trouble the stage-manager had. He declared +half the children of Columbus had been through his sieve; and there was +the trouble--they all went through, there was no one left to act as +substitute. But at last he found two promising little girls, sisters +they were, and very poor; but the mother vowed her children must be in +bed at nine, theatre or no theatre; yes, she would like to have the +money, but she'd do without it rather than have a child out of bed at +all hours. At first she held out for nine o'clock, but at last yielded +the additional half-hour; and to the great disappointment of the younger +child, the elder one was accepted, for the odd reason that she looked so +much younger than her sister. + +The company had come from Cleveland, and there were the usual slight +delays attendant on a first night; but the house was "good"; the star +(Mr. Buchanan) was making a fine impression, and the play was evidently +a "go." The big picture was looked forward to eagerly, and when it was +arranged, we had to admit that the pale, pinched little face of the +strange child was more effective as it rested on the dog's shoulder than +had been the plump, smiling face of the manager's little one. The +curtain went up, the applause followed; those behind the scenes crowded +to the "wings" to look on; no one noted that the hands of the clock +stood at 9.40; no one heard through the second burst of applause the +slam of the stage door behind the very, very small person who entered, +and silently peering this way and that, found her stern, avenging way to +the stage, and that too-favoured sister basking in the sunlight of +public approval. + +The grandsire had just lifted his head and was about to deliver his +beautiful speech of trust and hope, when he was stricken helpless by the +entrance upon the stage of a boldly advancing small person of most +amazing appearance. Her thin little legs emerged from the shortest of +skirts, while her small body was well pinned up in a great blanket +shawl, the point of which trailed fully a quarter of a yard on the floor +behind her. She wore a woman's hood on her head, and from its cavernous +depth, where there gleamed a pale, malignant small face, a voice +issued--the far-reaching voice of a child--that triumphantly +commanded:-- + +"You, Mary Ann, yu're ter get up out of that an' com' home straight +away--an' yu're ter go ter bed, too,--mother says so!" and the small +Nemesis turned on her heel and trailed off the stage, followed by +laughter that seemed fairly to shake the building. Nor was that all. No +sooner had Mary Ann grasped the full meaning of this dread message than +she turned over on her face, and scrambling up by all fours, she eluded +the restraining hands of the actress-mother and made a hasty exit to +perfect shrieks of laughter and storms of applause; while the climax was +only reached when the dog, trained to lie still so long as the pressure +of the child's head was upon his shoulder, finding himself free, rose, +shook himself violently, and trotted off, waving his tail pleasantly as +he went. + +That finished it; the curtain had to fall, a short overture was played, +and the curtain rose again without the complete tableau, and the action +of the play was resumed; but several times the laughter was renewed. It +was only necessary for some person to titter over the ludicrous +recollection, and instantly the house was laughing with that person. The +next night the manager's child, swathed in flannel, with a mouth full of +cough-drops, held the well-trained dog in his place until the proper +moment for him to rise, and the play went on its way rejoicing. + +And just to show how long-lasting is the association of ideas, I will +state that years, many years afterward, I met a gentleman who had been +in the auditorium that night, and he told me he had never since seen a +blanket shawl, whether in store for sale or on some broad back, that he +had not instantly laughed outright, always seeing poor Mary Ann's +obedient exit after that vengeful small sister with her trailing shawl. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII + +THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"_ + + +It was in "Camille," one Friday night, in Baltimore, that for the only +time in my life I wished to wipe an animal out of existence. I love +four-footed creatures with extravagant devotion, not merely the finely +bred and beautiful ones, but the poor, the sick, the halt, the maimed, +the half-breeds or the no breeds at all; and almost all animals quickly +make friends with me, divining my love for them. But on this one +night--well! it was this way. In the last act, as Camille, I had +staggered from the window to the bureau and was nearing that dread +moment when in the looking-glass I was to see the reflection of my +wrecked and ruined self. The house was giving strained attention, +watching dim-eyed the piteous, weak movements of the dying woman; and +right there I heard that (----h!) quick indrawing of the breath startled +womanhood always indulges in before either a scream or a laugh. My heart +gave a plunge, and I thought: What is it? Oh, what is wrong? and I +glanced down at myself anxiously, for really I wore so very little in +that scene that if anything should slip off--gracious! I did not know +but what, in the interest of public propriety, the law might interfere. +But that one swift glance told me that the few garments I had assumed in +the dressing-room still faithfully clung to me. But alas! there was the +dreaded titter, and it was unmistakably growing. What was it about? They +could only laugh at me, for there was no one else on the stage. Was +there not, indeed! In an agony of humiliation I turned half about and +found myself facing an absolutely monstrous cat. Starlike he held the +very centre of the stage, his two great topaz eyes were fixed roundly +and unflinchingly upon my face. On his body and torn ears he carried the +marks of many battles. His brindled tail stood straightly and +aggressively in the air, and twitched with short, quick twitches, at its +very tip, truly as burly an old buccaneer as I ever saw. + +No wonder they giggled! But how to save the approaching death scene from +total ruin? All was done in a mere moment or two; but several plans were +made and rejected during these few moments. Naturally my first thought, +and the correct one, was to call back "Nannine," my faithful maid, and +tell her to remove the cat. But alas! my Nannine was an unusually +dull-witted girl, and she would never be able to do a thing she had not +rehearsed. My next impulse was to pick up the creature and carry it off +myself; but I was playing a dying girl, and the people had just seen me, +after only three steps, reel helplessly into a chair; and this cat might +easily weigh twelve pounds or more; and then at last my plan was formed. +I had been clinging all the time to the bureau for support, now I +slipped to my knees and with a prayer in my heart that this fierce old +Thomas might not decline my acquaintance, I held out my hand, and in a +faint voice, called "Puss--Puss--Puss! come here, Puss!" + +It was an awful moment: if he refused to come, if he turned tail and +ran, all was over; the audience would roar. + +"Puss--Puss!" I pleaded. Thomas looked hard at me, hesitated, stretched +out his neck, and working his whiskers nervously, sniffed at my hand. + +"Puss--Puss!" I gasped out once more, and lo! he gave a little "meow," +and walking over to me, arched his back amicably, and rubbed his dingy +old body against my knee. In a moment my arms were about him, my cheek +on his wicked old head, and the applause that broke forth from the +audience was as balm of Gilead to my distress and mortification. Then I +called for Nannine, and when she came on, I said to her, "Take him +downstairs, Nannine, he grows too heavy a pet for me these days," and +she lifted and carried Sir Thomas from the stage, and so I got out of +the scrape without sacrificing my character as a sick woman. + +My manager, Mr. John P. Smith, who was a wag, and who would willingly +give up his dinner, which he loved, for a joke, which he loved better, +was the next day questioned about this incident. One gentleman, a music +dealer, said to him: "Mr. Smith, I wish you to settle a question for me. +My wife and I are at variance. We saw 'Camille' last night, and my wife, +who has seen it several times in New York, insisted that that beautiful +little cat-scene belongs to the play and is always done; while I am +sure I never saw it before, and several of my customers agree with me, +one lady declaring it to have been an accident. Will you kindly set us +right?" + +"Certainly," heartily replied Mr. Smith; "your wife is quite right, the +cat scene is always done. It is a great favourite with Miss Morris, and +she hauls that cat all over the country with her, ugly as he is, just +because he's such a good actor." + + + + +_CHAPTER IX + +"ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE_ + + +During the run of "Alixe," at Daly's Theatre, I had suffered from a +sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs, and before I was well the +doctor was simply horrified to learn that Mr. Daly had commanded me to +play at the Saturday performance, saying that if the work made me worse, +the doctor would have all day Sunday to treat me in. He really seemed to +think that using a carriage did away with all possible danger in passing +from a warm room, through icy streets, to a draughty theatre. But +certain lesions that I carry about with me are proofs of his error. +However, I dared not risk losing my engagement, so I obeyed. My chest, +which had been blistered and poulticed during my illness, was +excruciatingly tender and very sensitive to cold; and the doctor, +desiring to heal, and at the same time to protect it from chill, to my +unspeakable mortification anointed me lavishly with goose grease and +swathed me in flannel and cotton wadding. + +That I had no shape left to me was bad enough; but to be a moving +abomination was worse, and of all vile, offensive, and vulgar odours +commend me to that of goose grease. With cheeks wet from tears of sheer +weakness, I reached the theatre resolved to keep as silent as the grave +on the subject of my flamboyant armour of grease and flannel. But the +first faint muttering of the coming storm reached me even in my +dressing-room, when the theatre maid (I had none of my own yet) entered, +and frowningly snapped out: "I'd like to know what's the matter with +this room? It never smelled like this before. Just as soon as you go +out, Miss Morris, I'll hunt it over and see what the trouble is." + +I had been pale, but at that speech one might have lighted matches at my +scarlet face. While in the entrance I had to be wrapped up in a great +big shawl, through which the odour could not quite penetrate, so no one +suspected me when making kindly inquiries about my health; but when it +was thrown off, and in my thin white gown I went on the stage--oh! + +In the charming little love scene, as Henri and I sat close, oh, very +close together, on the garden seat, and I had to look up at him with +wide-eyed admiration, I saw him turn his face aside, wrinkling up his +nose, and heard him whisper: "What an infernal smell! What is it?" + +I shook my head in seeming ignorance and wondered what was ahead--if +this was the beginning. It was a harrowing experience; by the time the +second act was on, the whole company was aroused. They were like an +angry swarm of bees. Miss Dietz kept her handkerchief openly to her +pretty nose; Miss Morant, in stately dudgeon, demanded that Mr. Daly +should be sent for, that he might learn the condition of his theatre, +and the dangers his people were subjected to in breathing such poisoned +air; while right in the very middle of our best scene, Mr. Louis James, +the incorrigible, stopped to whisper, "Can't we move further over and +get out of this confounded stench?" + +In that act I had to spend much of my time at the piano, with the result +that when the curtain fell, the people excitedly declared that awful +smell was worst right there, and I had the misery of seeing the prompter +carefully looking into the piano and applying his long, sharp nose to +its upright interior. + +There had been a moment in that act when I thought James Lewis suspected +me. I had just taken my seat opposite him at the chess table, when he +gave a little jerk at his chair, exclaiming under his breath, "Blast +that smell--there it is again!" + +[Illustration: _Mrs. Gilbert, Augustin Daly, James Lewis, Louis James_] + +I remained silent, and there I was wrong; for Lewis, knowing me well, +knew my habit of extravagant speech, and instantly his blue pop eyes +were upon my miserable face, with suspicion sticking straight out of +them. With trembling hand I made my move at chess, saying, "Queen to +Queens rook four," and he added in aside, "Seems to me you're mighty +quiet about this scent; I hope you ain't going to tell me you can't +smell it?" + +But the assurance that "I did--oh, I did, indeed! smell a most +outrageous odour," came so swiftly, so convincingly from my lips, that +his suspicions were lulled to rest. + +The last act came, and--and--well, as I said, it was the last act. White +and rigid and lily-strewn, they bore me on the stage,--Louis James at +the shoulders and George Clarke at the feet. Their heads were bent over +me. James was nearest to the storm centre. Suddenly he gasped, then as +we reached the centre of the stage Clarke gave vent to "phew!" They +gently laid me on the sofa, but through the sobs of the audience and of +the characters I heard from James the unfinished, half-doubting +sentence, "Well, I believe in my soul it's--" But the mother (Miss +Morant) approached me then, took my hand, touched my brow, called for +help, for a physician; then with the wild cry, "She is dead! she is +dead!" flung herself down beside the sofa with her head upon my +goose-grease breast. Scarcely had she touched me, however, when with a +gasping snort of disgust she sprang back, exclaiming violently, "It's +you, you wretch! it's _you_!" and then under cover of other people's +speeches, I being dead and helpless, Clarke stood at my head and James +at my feet and reviled me, calling me divers unseemly names and mocking +at me, while references were made every now and then to chloride of lime +and such like disinfectants. + +They would probably have made life a burden for me ever after, had I not +after the performance lifted tearful eyes to them and said, "I am so +sorry for your discomfort, but you can go out and get fresh air; but, +boys, just think of me, I can't get away from myself and my goose-grease +smell a single moment, and it's perfectly awful!" + +"You bet it is!" they all answered, as with one voice, and they were +merciful to me, which did not prevent them from sending the prompter +(who did not know of the discovery) with a lantern to search back of the +scenes for the cause of the offensive odour. Perhaps I may add that +goose grease does not figure in my list of "household remedies." + +But the next week I was able, in a measure at least, to heal their +wounded feelings. Actresses used to receive a good many little gifts +from admirers in the audience. They generally took the form of flowers +or candy, but sometimes there came instead a book, a piece of music, or +an ornament for the dressing-table; but Alixe's altar could boast an +entirely new votive offering. I received a letter and a box. The letter +was an outburst of admiration for Alixe, the "lily maid the tender, the +poetical," etc. The writer then went on to tell me how she had yearned +to express to me her feelings; how she had consulted her husband on the +matter, and how he had said certainly to write if she wished, and send +some little offering, which seemed appropriate, and "therefore she sent +_this_"; and with visions of a copy of Keats or Shelley or a +lace-trimmed pin-cushion, I opened the box and found the biggest mince +pie I ever saw. + +Certainly the lady's idea of an appropriate gift was open to criticism, +but not so her pie. That was rich perfection. Its fruity, spicy interior +was evenly warmed with an evident old French brandy,--no savagely +burning cooking brandy, mind,--and when the flaky marvel had stood upon +the heater for a time, even before its cutting up with a paper-knife, +the odour of goose grease was lost in the "Araby the Blest" scent of +mince meat. + + + + +_CHAPTER X + +J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT_ + + +The late John E. Owens, while acting in Cincinnati, had a severe cold. +He was feverish, and fearing for his throat, which was apt to give him +trouble, he had his physician, an old friend, come to see him back of +the scenes. The doctor brought with him an acquaintance, and Mr. Owens +asked them to wait till the next act was over to see how his throat was +going to behave. + +It's always a dangerous thing to turn outsiders loose behind the +scenes; for if they don't fall into traps, or step into paint pots, they +are sure to pop on to the stage. + +Mr. Owens supposed the gentlemen would stop quietly in his room, but not +they. Out they wandered on discovery intent. A well-painted scene caught +the doctor's eye. He led his friend up to it, to take a better look; +then as only part of it was visible from where they stood, they followed +it along. + +Mr. Owens and I were on the stage. Suddenly his eyes distended. "What in +the devil?" he whispered. I looked behind me, and at the same moment the +audience burst into shouts of laughter; for right into the centre of the +stage had walked, with backs toward the audience, two tall gentlemen, +each with a shining bald head, each tightly buttoned in a long black +overcoat, and each gesticulating with a heavy cane. + +I whispered to Mr. Owens, "The two Dromios"; but he snapped out, "Two +blind old bats." + +When they heard the roar behind them, they turned their heads, and then +a funnier, wilder exit I never saw than was made by these two dignified +old gentlemen; while Owens added to the laughter by taking me by the +hand, and when we had assumed their exact attitude, singing "Two +wandering boys from Switzerland." + +I am reminded that the first performance I ever saw in my life had one +of the most grotesque interruptions imaginable. At a sort of country +hotel much frequented by driving parties and sleighing parties, a +company of players were "strapped,"--to use the theatrical term, +stranded,--unable either to pay their bills or to move on. There was a +ballroom in the house, and the proprietor allowed them to erect a +temporary stage there and give a performance, the guests in the house +promising to attend in a body. + +One of the plays was an old French farce, known to English audiences as +"The Hole in the Wall." The principal comedy part was a clerk to two +old misers, who starved him outrageously. + +I was a little, stiffly starched person, and I remember that I sat on +some one's silk lap, and slipped and slipped, and was hitched up and +immediately slipped again until I wished I might fall off and be done +with it. Near me sat a little old maiden lady, who had come in from her +village shop to see "the show." She wore two small, sausage curls either +side of her wrinkled cheeks, large glasses, a broad lace collar, while +three members of her departed family gathered together in one fell group +on a mighty pin upon her tired chest. She held a small bag on her knee, +and from it she now and then slid a bit of cake which, as she nibbled +it, gave off a strong odour of caraway seed. + +[Illustration: _John E. Owens_] + +Now the actor was clever in his "make-up," and each time he appeared he +looked thinner than he had in the scene before. Instead of laughing, +however, the old woman took it seriously, and she had to wipe her +glasses with her carefully folded handkerchief several times before +that last scene, when she was quite overcome. + +His catch phrase had been, "Oh! oh! how hungry I am!" and every time he +said it, she gave a little involuntary groan; but as he staggered on at +the last, thin as a bit of thread paper, hollow-cheeked, white-faced, +she indignantly exclaimed, "Well now, _that's_ a shame!" + +The people laughed aloud; the comedian fixed his eyes upon her face, and +with hands pressed against his stomach groaned, "O-h! how hungry I am!" +and then she opened that bag and drew forth two long, twisted, fried +cakes, rose, stood on her tip-toes, and reaching them up to him +tearfully remarked:-- + +"Here, you poor soul, take these. They are awful dry; but it's all I've +got with me." + +The audience fairly screamed; but poor and stranded as that company was, +the comedian was an artist, for he accepted the fried cakes, ate them +ravenously to the last crumb, and so kept well within the character he +was playing, without hurting the feelings of the kind-hearted, little +old woman. + +It's pleasant to know that that clever bit of acting attracted the +attention and gained the interest of a well-to-do gentleman, who was +present, and who next day helped the actors on their way to the city. + +A certain foreign actor once smilingly told me "I was a crank about my +American public." I took his little gibe in good part; for while he knew +foreign audiences, he certainly did _not_ know American ones as well as +I, who have faced them from ocean to ocean, from British Columbia to +Florida. Two characteristics they all share in common,--intelligence and +fairness,--otherwise they vary as widely, have as many marked +peculiarities, as would so many individuals. New York and Boston are +_the_ authorities this side of "the Great Divide," while San Francisco +sits in judgment by the blue Pacific. + +One never-to-be-forgotten night I went to a fashionable theatre in New +York City to see a certain English actress make her début before an +American audience, which at that time was considered quite an +interesting event, since there were but one or two of her countrywomen +over here then. The house was very full; the people were of the +brightest and the "smartest." I sat in a stage box and noted their +eagerness, their smiling interest. + +The curtain was up, there was a little dialogue, and then the stage door +opened. I dimly saw the actress spreading out her train ready to "come +on," the cue was given, a figure in pale blue and white appeared in the +doorway, stood for one single, flashing instant, then lurched forward, +and with a crash she measured her full length upon the floor. + +The shocked "O-h-h" that escaped the audience might have come from one +pair of lips, so perfect was its spontaneity, and then dead and perfect +silence fell. + +The actress lay near but one single piece of furniture (she was alone in +the scene, unfortunately), and that was one of those frail, useless, +gilded trifles known as reception chairs. She reached out her hand, and +lifting herself by that, had almost reached her knee, when the chair +tipped under her weight, and they both fell together. + +It was awful. A deep groan burst from the people in the parquet. I saw +many women hide their eyes; men, with hands already raised to applaud, +kept the attitude rigidly, while their tight-pressed lips and frowning +brows showed an agony of sympathy. Then suddenly an arm was thrust +through the doorway; I knew it for the head carpenter's. Though in a +shirt sleeve, it was bare to the elbow, and not over clean, but strong +as a bough of living oak. She seized upon it and lifting herself, with +scarlet face and neck and breast, she stood once more upon her feet. And +then the storm broke loose; peal on peal of thunderous applause shook +the house. But four times in my life have I risked throwing flowers +myself; but that night mine were the first roses that fell at her feet. +She seemed dazed; quite distinctly I heard her say "off" to some one in +the entrance, "But what's the matter?" + +At last she came forward. She was plump almost to stoutness, but she +moved most gracefully. Her bow was greeted with long-continued applause. +Sympathy, courtesy, encouragement, welcome--all were expressed in that +general and enthusiastic outburst. + +"Why," said she after all was over, "at home they would have hissed me, +had that happened there." + +"Oh!" exclaimed one who heard, "never; they could not be so cruel." + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "_afterward_ they might have applauded, but +not at first. Surely they would have hissed me." + +And with these words ringing in my ears, no wonder that, figuratively +speaking, I knelt at the feet of a New York audience and proudly kissed +its hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI + +STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"_ + + +In the play of "Miss Multon" a number of children are required for the +first act. They are fortunately supposed to be the children of the poor, +and they come to a Christmas party. As I had that play in my +_repertoire_ for several years, I naturally came in contact with a great +number of little people, and that's just what they generally were, +little men and women, with here and there at long intervals a _real_ +child. + +They were of all kinds and qualities,--some well-to-do, some very poor, +some gentle and well-mannered, some wild as steers, some brazen-faced +and pushing, some sweet and shy and modest. I had one little child--a +mere tot--take hold of the ribbon with which I tied my cape and ask me +how much it was a yard; she also inquired about the quality of the +narrow lace edge on my handkerchief, and being convinced that it was +real, sharply told me to look out "it didn't get stoled." One little +girl came every night, as I sat waiting for my cue, to rub her fingers +up and down over the velvet collar of my cape. Touching the soft +yielding surface seemed to give her exquisite pleasure, and I caught the +same child standing behind me when I wore the rich red dress, holding +her hands up to it, as to a fire, for warmth. Poor little soul! she had +sensibility and imagination both. + +The play requires that one child should be very small; and as it was no +unusual thing for the little one to get frightened behind the scenes, I +used to come to the rescue, and as I found a question about "Mamma" won +their attention the quickest, I fell into the habit of saying, first +thing: "Where's mamma? Is she here? Show me, where." And having once won +attention, it had gone hard with me indeed had I failed to make friends +with the youngster. + +One Monday evening as I came to my place, I saw the new baby standing +all forlorn, with apparently no one at all to look after her, not even +one of the larger children. She was evidently on the very verge of +frightened tears, and from old habit I stooped down and said to her, +"Where's mamma, dear?" + +She lifted two startled blue eyes to my face and her lips began to +tremble. I went on, "Is mamma here?" The whole little face drew up in a +distressed pucker, and with gasps she whispered, "She's in er box." + +I raised my head and glanced across the stage. An old gentleman sat in +the box opposite, and I knew a merry young party had the one on our own +side, so I answered: "Oh, no, dear, mamma's not in the box; she's--" +when the poor baby cried, "Yes, she is, my mamma's in a box!" and buried +her curly head in the folds of my skirt and burst into sobs. + +At that moment a hard-voiced, hard-faced, self-sufficient girl pushed +forward, and explained in a patronizing way: "Oh, she's too little to +say it right. She ain't got no mother; she's dead, and it's the coffin +Annie means by the box." + +Oh, poor baby, left behind! poor little scrap of humanity! + +In another city the child was older, nearly five, but so very small that +she did nicely in the tiny trousers (it is a boy's part, as I should +have said before), and when the act was over, I kissed the brightly +pretty face and offered her a little gift. She put out her hand eagerly, +then swiftly drew it back again, saying, "It's money." + +"Yes," I answered. "It's for you, take it." + +[Illustration: _"Little Breeches"_] + +She hung her head and murmured, "It's money, I dar'sent." + +"Why not?" I asked. + +"'Cause we're too poor," she replied, which was certainly the oddest +reason I ever heard advanced for not accepting offered money. I was +compelled to hurry to my dressing-room to prepare for the next act; but +I saw with what disappointed eyes she followed me, and as I kept +thinking of her and her queer answer I told my maid to go out and see if +the pretty, very clean little girl was still there, and, if so, to send +her to my room. Presently a faint tap, low down on the door, told me my +expected visitor had arrived. Wide-eyed and smiling she entered, and +having some cough drops on my dressing-table, I did the honours. Cough +drops of strength and potency they were, too, but sweet, and therefore +acceptable to a small girl. She looked at them in her wistful way, and +then very prettily asked, "Please might she eat one right then?" + +I consented to that seemingly grave breach of etiquette, and then asked +if her mother was with her. + +"Oh, no! Sam had brought her." (Sam was the gas man.) + +"Why," I went on, "did you not take that money, dear?" (her eyes +instantly became regretful). "Don't you want it?" + +"Oh, yes, ma'am," she eagerly answered. "Yes, ma'am, I want it, thank +you; but you see I might get smacked again--like I did last week." + +Our conversation at this embarrassing point was interrupted by the +appearance of Sam, who came for the little one. I sent her out with a +message for the maid, and then questioned Sam, who, red and apologetic, +explained that "the child had never seen no theatre before; but he knew +that the fifty cents would be a godsend to them all, and an honest +earned fifty cents, too, and he hoped the kid hadn't given me no +trouble," and he beamed when I said she was charming and so +well-mannered. + +"Yes," he reckoned, "they aimed to bring her up right. Yer see," he +went on, "her father's my pal, and he married the girl that--a +girl--well, the best kind of a girl yer can think of" (poor Sam), "and +they both worked hard and was gettin' along fine, until sickness come, +and then he lost his job, and it's plumb four months now that he's been +idle; and that girl, the wife, was thin as a rail, and they would die +all together in a heap before they'd let any one help 'em except with +work." + +"What," I asked, "did the child mean by getting a smacking last week?" + +"Oh," he answered, "the kid gets pretty hungry, I suppose, and t'other +day when she was playin' with the Jones child, there in the same house, +Mrs. Jones asks her to come in and have some dinner; and as she lifted +one of the covers from the cooking-stove, the kid says: 'My, you must be +awful rich, you make a fire at both ends of your stove at once. My mamma +only makes a fire under just one hole, 'cause we don't have anything +much to cook now 'cept tea.' The speech reached the mother's ears, and +she smacked the child for lettin' on to any one how poor they are. Lord, +no, Miss, she dar'sent take no money, though God knows they need it bad +enough." + +With dim eyes I hurriedly scribbled a line on a bit of wrapping paper, +saying:--"This little girl has played her part so nicely that I want her +to have something to remember the occasion by, and since I shall not be +in the city to-morrow, and cannot select anything myself, I must ask you +to act for me." Then I folded it about a green note, and calling back +the child, I turned her about and pinned both written message and money +to the back of her apron. The little creature understood the whole thing +in a flash. She danced about joyously: "Oh, Sam," she cried, "the lady's +gived me a present, and I can't help myself, can I?" + +And Sam wiped his hand on his breeches leg, and, clearing his throat +hard, asked "if I'd mind shakin' hands?" + +And I didn't mind it a bit. Then, with clumsy care, he wrapped the child +in her thin bit of a cape, and led her back to that home which gave +lodgement to both poverty and pride. + +While the play was new, in the very first engagement outside of New +York, I had a very little child for that scene. She was flaxen blond, +and her mother had dressed her in bright sky-blue, which was in itself +an odd colour for a little boy to wear. Then the small breeches were so +evidently mother-made, the tiny bits of legs surmounted with such an +enormous breadth of seat, the wee Dutch-looking blue jacket, and the +queer blue cap on top of the flaxen curls, gave the little creature the +appearance of a Dutch doll. The first sight of her, or, perhaps, I +should say "him," the first sight of him provoked a ripple of merriment; +but when he turned full about on his bits of legs and toddled up stage, +giving a full, perfect view of those trousers to a keenly observant +public, people laughed the tears into their eyes. And this baby noted +the laughter, and resented it with a thrust-out lip and a frowning knit +of his level brows that was funnier than even his blue clothing--and +after that one Parthian glance at the audience, he invariably toddled to +me, and hid his face in my dress. From the very first night the child +was called "Little Breeches," and to this day I know her by no other +name. + +Time passed by fast--so fast; years came, years went. "Miss Multon" had +been lying by for a number of seasons. "Renée de Moray," "Odette," +"Raymonde," etc., had been in use; then some one asked for "Miss +Multon," and she rose obediently from her trunk, took her manuscript +from the shelf, and presented herself at command. One evening, in a +Southern California city, as I left my room ready for the first act of +this play, the door-man told me a young woman had coaxed so hard to see +me, for just one moment, that ignoring orders he had come to ask me if +he might bring her in; she was not begging for anything, just a moment's +interview. Rather wearily I gave permission, and in a few moments I saw +him directing her toward me. A very slender, very young bit of a woman, +a mere girl, in fact, though she held in her arms a small white bundle. +As she came smilingly up to me, I perceived that she was very blond. I +bowed and said "Good evening" to her, but she kept looking in smiling +silence at me for a moment or two, then said eagerly, "Don't you know +me, Miss Morris?" + +I looked hard at her. "No," I said; "and if I have met you before, it's +strange, for while I cannot remember names, my memory for faces is +remarkable." + +"Oh," she said, in deep disappointment, "can't you remember me at +all--not at all?" + +Her face fell, she pushed out her nether lip, she knit her level, +flaxen brows. + +I leaned forward suddenly and touched her hand, saying, "You are +not--you can't be--my little--" + +"Yes, I am," she answered delightedly. "I am Little Breeches." + +"And this?" I asked, touching the white bundle. + +"Oh," she cried, "this is _my_ Little Breeches; but I shan't dress him +in bright blue." + +"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how old are you, and how old am I?" + +"Well," she replied, "I'm almost eighteen, and as you look just exactly +as you did when I saw you last, it doesn't matter, so far as I can see, +how many years have passed." (Oh, clever Little Breeches!) + +Then, having had Little Breeches 2d kissed and honestly admired, she +trotted away satisfied; and only as I made my entrance on the stage did +it occur to me that I had not asked her name; so she ends as she began, +simply Little Breeches. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII + +THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN_ + + +In looking over my letters from the gentle "Unknown," I find that the +question, "What advantage has the stage over other occupations for +women?" is asked by a Mrs. Some One more often than by the more +impulsive and less thoughtful girl writer, and it is put with frequency +and earnestness. + +Of course there is nothing authoritative in these answers of mine, +nothing absolute. They are simply the opinion of one woman, founded upon +personal experience and observation. We must, of course, to begin +with, eliminate the glamour of the stage--that strange, false lustre, as +powerful as it is intangible--and consider acting as a practical +occupation, like any other. And then I find that in trying to answer the +question asked, I am compelled, after all, to turn to a memory. + +I had been on the stage two years when one day I met a schoolmate. Her +father had died, and she, too, was working; but she was bitterly envious +of my occupation. I earnestly explained the demands stage wardrobe made +upon the extra pay I drew; that in actual fact she had more money for +herself than I had. Again I explained that rehearsals, study, and +preparation of costumes required time almost equal to her working hours, +with the night work besides; but she would not be convinced. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried, "I am at service, that means I'm a +dependant, I labour for another. You serve, yes, but you labour for +yourself," and lo! she had placed her stubby little finger upon the sore +spot in the working-woman's very heart, when she had divined that in the +independence of an actress lay her great advantage over other workers. + +Of course this independence is not absolute; but then how many men there +are already silver-haired at desk or bench or counter who are still +under the authority of an employer! Like these men, the actress's +independence is comparative; but measured by the bondage of other +working-women, it is very great. We both have duties to perform for +which we receive a given wage, yet there is a difference. The +working-girl is expected to be subservient, she is too often regarded as +a menial, she is ordered. An actress, even of small characters, is +considered a necessary part of the whole. She assists, she attends, she +obliges. Truly a difference. + +Again, women shrink with passionate repugnance from receiving orders +from another woman; witness the rarity of the American domestic. A pity? +Yes; but what else can you expect? The Americans are a dominant race. +Free education has made all classes too nearly equal for one woman to +bend her neck willingly and accept the yoke of servitude offered by +another woman. + +And even this is spared to the actress, since her directions are more +often received from the stage manager or manager than from a woman star. +True, her life is hard, she has no home comforts; but, then, she has no +heavy duties to perform, no housework, bed-making, sweeping, +dish-washing, or clothes-washing, and when her work is done, she is her +own mistress. She goes and comes at her own will; she has time for +self-improvement, but best of all she has something to look forward to. +That is a great advantage over girls of other occupations, who have such +a small chance of advancement. + +Some impetuous young reader who speaks first and thinks afterward may +cry out that I am not doing justice to the profession of acting, even +that I discredit it in thus comparing it with humble and somewhat +mechanical vocations; so before I go farther, little enthusiasts, let me +remind you of the wording of this present query. It does not ask what +advantage has acting over other professions, over other arts, but "What +advantage has it over other occupations for women?" + +A very sweeping inquiry, you see; hence this necessary comparison with +shop, factory, and office work. As to the other professions, taking, for +instance, law or medicine, preparations for practice must be very +costly. A girl puts her family to a great strain to pay her college +expenses, or if some family friend advances funds, when she finally +passes all the dreaded examinations, and has the legal right to hang out +her shingle, she starts in the race of life handicapped with crushing +debts. + +The theatre is, I think, the only place where a salary is paid to +students during all the time they are learning their profession; surely +a great, a wonderful advantage over other professions to be +self-sustaining from the first. + +Then the arts, but ah! life is short and art, dear Lord, art is long, +almost unto eternity. And she who serves it needs help, much help, and +then must wait, long and wearily, for the world's response and +recognition, that, even if they come, are apt to be somewhat uncertain, +unless they can be cut on a marble tomb; then they are quite positive +and hearty. But in the art of acting the response and recognition come +swift as lightning, sweet as nectar, while you are young enough to enjoy +and to make still greater efforts to improve and advance. + +So it seems to me the great advantage of acting over work is one's +independence, one's opportunity to improve oneself. Its advantage over +the professions is that it is self-sustaining from the start. Its +advantage over the arts is its swift reward for earnest endeavour. + +It must be very hard to endure the contempt so often bestowed upon the +woman who simply serves. I had a little taste of it once myself; and +though it was given me by accident, and apologies and laughter followed, +I remember quite well that even that tiny taste was distinctly +unpleasant--yes, and bitter. I was abroad with some very intimate +friends, and Mrs. P----, an invalid, owing to a mishap, was for some +days without a maid. We arrived in Paris hours behind time, late at +night, and went straight to our reserved rooms, seeing no one but some +sleepy servants. + +Early next morning, going to my friends' apartments, I came upon this +piteous sight: Mrs. P----, who had a head of curly hair, was not only +without a maid, but also without the use of her right arm. The fame of +Charcot had brought her to Paris. Unless she breakfasted alone, which +she hated, her hair must be arranged. Behold, then, the emergency for +which her husband, Colonel P----, had, boldly not to say recklessly, +offered his services. + +I can see them now. She, with clenched teeth of physical suffering and +uplifted eye of the forgiving martyr, sat in combing jacket before him; +and he, with the maid's white apron girt tight about him just beneath +his armpits, had on his soldierly face an expression of desperate +resolve that suggested the leading of a forlorn hope. A row of hair-pins +protruded sharply from between his tightly closed lips; a tortoise-shell +back-comb, dangling from one side of his full beard where he placed it +for safety, made this amateur hairdresser a disturbing sight both for +gods and men. + +With legs well braced and far apart, his arms high lifted like outspread +wings, he wielded the comb after the manner of a man raking hay. For one +moment all my sympathy was for the shrinking woman; then, when +suddenly, in despite of the delicious morning coolness, a great drop of +perspiration splashed from the Colonel's corrugated brow, down into the +obstreperous curly mass he wrestled with, I pitied him, too, and +cried:-- + +"Oh, I'll do that. Take care, you'll swallow a pin or two if you +contradict me. Your spirit is willing, Colonel, but your flesh, for all +you have such a lot of it, is weak, when you come to hair-dressing!" + +And regardless of his very earnest protest, I took the tangled, +tormented mass in hand and soon had it waving back into a fluffy knot; +and just as I was drawing forth some short locks for the forehead, there +came a knock and in bounced the mistress of the house, our landlady, +Mme. F----, who, missing our arrival the night before, came now to bid +us welcome and inquire as to our satisfaction with arrangements, etc. +She was a short woman, of surprising breadth and more surprising +velocity of speech. She could pronounce more words to a single breath +than any other person I have ever met. She was German by birth, and +spoke French with a strong German accent, while her English was a thing +to wring the soul, sprinkled as it was with German "unds," "ufs," and +"yousts," and French "zees" and "zats." Our French being of the slow and +precise kind, and her English of the rattling and at first +incomprehensible type, the conversation was somewhat confused. But even +so, my friends noticed with surprise, that Madame did not address one +word of welcome to me. They hastened to introduce me, using my married +name. + +A momentary annoyance came into her face, then she dropped her lids +haughtily, swept me from head to foot with one contemptuous glance, and +without even the faintest nod in return to my "Bon jour, Madame," she +turned to Mrs. P----, who, red with indignation, was trying to sputter +out a demand for an explanation, and asked swiftly:-- + +"Und zat ozzer lady? you vas to be t'ree--n'est-ce pas? She hav' not +com' yed? to-morrow, perhaps, und--und" (I saw what was coming, but my +companions suspected nothing), "und"--she dropped her lids again and +indicated me with a contemptuous movement of the head--"she, zat maid, +you vant to make arrange for her? You hav' not write for room for zat +maid?" + +I leaned from the window to hide my laughter, for it seemed to me that +Colonel P---- jumped a foot, while the cry of his wife drowned the sound +of the short, warm word that is of great comfort to angry men. Before +they could advance one word of explanation, an aproned waiter fairly +burst into the room, crying for "Madame! Madame! to come quick, for that +Jules was at it very bad again!" And she wildly rushed out, saying over +her shoulder, "By und by we zee for zat maid, und about zat udder lady, +by und by also," and so departed at a run with a great rattling of +starch and fluttering of cap ribbons; for Jules, the head cook, already +in the first stages of delirium tremens, was making himself interesting +to the guests by trying to jump into the fountain basin to save the +lives of the tiny ducklings, who were happily swimming there, and Madame +F---- was sorely needed. + +Yes, I laughed--laughed honestly at the helpless wrath of my friends, +and pretended to laugh at the mistake; but all the time I was saying to +myself, "Had I really been acting as maid, how cruelly I should have +suffered under that contemptuous glance and from that withheld bow of +recognition." She had found me well-dressed, intelligent, and +well-mannered; yet she had insulted me, because she believed me to be a +lady's maid. No wonder women find service bitter. + +We had retired from the breakfast room and were arranging our plans for +the day, when a sort of whirlwind came rushing through the hall, the +door sprang open almost without a pronounced permission, and Madame +F---- flung herself into the room, caught my hands in hers, pressed them +to her heart, to her lips, to her brow, wept in German, in French, in +English, and called distractedly upon "Himmel!" "Ciel!" and "Heaven!" +But she found her apologies so coldly received by my friends that she +was glad to turn the flood of her remorse in my direction, and for very +shame of the scene she was making I assured her the mistake was quite +pardonable--as it was. It was her manner that was almost unpardonable. +Then she added to my discomfort by bursting out with fulsome praise of +me as an actress; how she had seen me and wept, and so on and on, she +being only at last walked and talked gently out of the room. + +But that was not the end of her remorse. A truly French bouquet with its +white paper petticoat arrived in about an hour, "From the so madly +mistooken Madame F----," the card read, and that act of penance was +performed every morning as long as I remained in Paris. But one day she +appealed to the Colonel for pity and sympathy. + +"Ah!" said she, "I hav' zee two tr'ubles, zee two sorrows! I hav' zee +grief to vound zee feelin's of zat so fine actrice Americaine--zat ees +one tr'ubles, und den I hav' zee shame to mak' zat grande fool +meestak'--oh, mon Dieu! I tak' her for zee maid, und zare my most great +tr'uble come in! I hav' no one with zee right to keek me--to keek me +hard from zee back for being such a fool. I say mit my husband dat +night, 'Vill you keek me hard, if you pleas'?' Mais, he cannot, he hav' +zee gout in zee grande toe, und he can't keek vurth one sou!--und zat is +my second tr'uble!" + +Behind her broad back the Colonel confessed that had she expressed such +a wish on the occasion of the mistake, he would willingly have obliged +her, as he was quite free from gout. + +So any woman who goes forth to win her living as an actress will at +least be spared the contemptuous treatment bestowed on me in my short +service as an amateur lady's maid. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII + +THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE_ + + +What is the bane of a young actress's life? + +Under the protection of pretty seals stamped in various tints of wax, I +find one question appearing in many slightly different forms. A large +number of writers ask, "What is the greatest difficulty a young actress +has to surmount?" In another pile of notes the question appears in this +guise, "What is the principal obstacle in the way of the young actress?" +While two motherly bodies ask, "What one thing worries an actress the +most?" After due thought I have cast them all together, boiled them +down, and reduced them to this, "What is the bane of a young actress's +life?" which question I can answer without going into training, with one +hand tied behind me, and both eyes bandaged, answer in one +word--_dress_. Ever since that far-away season when Eve, the beautiful, +inquiring, let-me-see-for-myself Eve, made fig leaves popular in Eden, +and invented the apron to fill a newly felt want, dress has been at once +the comfort and the torment of woman. + +Acting is a matter of pretence, and she who can best pretend a splendid +passion, a tender love, or a murderous hate, is admittedly the finest +actress. Time was when stage wardrobe was a pretence, too. An actress +was expected to please the eye, she was expected to be historically +correct as to the shape and style of her costume; but no one expected +her queenly robes to be of silk velvet, her imperial ermine to be +anything rarer than rabbit-skin. My own earliest ermine was humbler +still, being constructed of the very democratic white canton flannel +turned wrong side out, while the ermine's characteristic little black +tails were formed by short bits of round shoe-lacing. The only advantage +I can honestly claim for this domestic ermine is its freedom from the +moths, who dearly love imported garments of soft fine cloth and rare +lining. I have had and have seen others have, in the old days, really +gorgeous brocades made by cutting out great bunches of flowers from +chintz and applying them to a cheaper background, and then picking out +the high lights with embroidery silk, the effect being not only +beautiful, but rich. All these make-believes were necessary then, on a +$30 or $35 a week salary, for a leading lady drew no more. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Jane Eyre"_] + +But times are changed, stage lighting is better, stronger. The opera +glass is almost universally used, deceptions would be more easily +discovered; and more, oh, so much more is expected from the actress of +to-day. Formerly she was required, first of all, to sink her own +individuality in that of the woman she pretended to be; and next, if +it was a dramatized novel she was acting in, she was to make herself +look as nearly like the described heroine as possible; otherwise she had +simply to make herself as pretty as she knew how in her own way, that +was all. But now the actresses of a great city are supposed to set the +fashion for the coming season. They almost literally dress in the style +of to-morrow: thus the cult of clothes becomes harmful to the actress. +Precious time that should be given to the minute study, the final +polishing of a difficult character, is used instead in deciding the +pitch of a skirt, the width of a collar, or open sleeve-strap, or no +sleeve at all. + +Some ladies of my acquaintance who had been to the theatre three times, +avowedly to study as models the costumes, when questioned as to the +play, looked at one another and then answered vaguely: "The performance? +Oh, nothing remarkable! It was fair enough; but the dresses! They are +really beyond anything in town, and must have cost a mint of money!" + +So we have got around to the opposite of the old-time aim, when the +answer might possibly have been: "The acting was beyond anything in +town. The dresses? Nothing remarkable! Oh, well, fair enough!" + +I have often been told by famous women of the past that the beautiful +Mrs. Russell, then of Wallack's Theatre, was the originator in this +country of richly elegant realism in stage costuming. When it was known +that the mere linings of her gowns cost more than the outside of other +dresses; that all her velvet was silk velvet; all her lace to the last +inch was real lace; that no wired nor spliced feathers curled about her +splendid leghorns, only magnificent single plumes, each worth weeks of +salary, this handsome woman, superbly clad, created a sensation, but +alas! at the same time, she unconsciously scattered seed behind her that +sprang up into a fine crop of dragon's teeth for following young +actresses to gather. _Qui donne le menu, donne la faim!_ And right here +let me say, I am not of those who believe the past holds a monopoly of +all good things. I have much satisfaction in the present, and a strong +and an abiding faith in the future, and even in this matter of dress, +which has become such an anxiety to the young actress, I would not ask +to go back to those days of primitive costuming. In Shakespere's day +there appeared over a "drop," or curtain of green, a legend plainly +stating, "This is a street in Verona," and every man with an imagination +straightway saw the Veronese street to his complete satisfaction; but +there were those who had no imagination, and to hold their attention and +to keep their patronage, scenes had to be painted for them. One would +not like to see a woman draped in plain grey with an attached placard +saying, "This is a ball gown" or "This is a Coronation robe," the +imagination would balk at it. But there is a far cry between that and +the real Coronation robe of velvet, fur, and jewels. What I would ask +for is moderation, and above all freedom for the actress from the burden +of senseless extravagance which is being bound upon her shoulders--not +by the public, not even by the manager, but by the mischievous small +hands of sister actresses, who have private means outside of their +salaries. How generous they would be if they could be content to dress +with grace and elegance while omitting the mad extravagance that those +who are dependent upon their salaries alone will surely try to emulate, +and sometimes at what a price, dear Heaven, at what a price! + +Let us say an actress plays the part of a woman of fashion--of rank. As +she makes her first appearance, she is supposed to have returned from +the opera. Therefore, though she may wear them but one moment, hood and +opera cloak are needed because they will help out the illusion. Suppose, +then, she wears a long cloak of velvet or cloth, with a lining of +delicate tinted quilted satin or fur; if the impression of warmth or +elegance and comfort is given, its work has been well done. But suppose +the actress enters in an opera cloak of such gorgeous material that the +elaborate embroidery on it seems an impertinence--a creation lined with +the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real +lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels--what happens? The cloak pushes +forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob +this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak +whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its +beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten +to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of +that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama. + +Extravagance is inartistic--so for that reason I could wish for +moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be +to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for +the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when, +during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five +dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes +for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my +gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the +dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc., +and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up +fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and +they will come to see the new dresses." + +And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are +acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I +can't object any longer. You see, I was under the impression people +came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me +my error." + +For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our +unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am +surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I +surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the +open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial +revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for +me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after +one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill. + +Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she +could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her--that is very +bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and when +the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more +than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest +fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, +fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists +joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best +hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now. + +So the young actress--unless she has some little means, aside from a +salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke +that salary out--is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; +for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and +besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the +poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs. + +Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I +think, have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming +pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in +her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her +$200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 +parasol." + +Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or +beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious +one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those +flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a +spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become +necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is +forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes +were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply +pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter +envy and fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the +mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their +owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the +under girl, in the struggle for clothes! + +In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe +for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and +shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes +of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite +taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for +production after production, it would seem that the management must +share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very +much higher than they were a few years ago. + +In France the stage, no doubt, partly fills the place of the departed +court in presenting new fashions to the public eye, doing it with the +graceful aplomb that has carried many a doubtful innovation on to sure +success. Those beautiful and trained artists take pleasure in first +presenting the style other women are to follow, and yet they share the +honour (?) with another class, whose most audacious follies in dress, +while studied from the corner of a downcast eye, are nevertheless often +slavishly followed. + +How many of the thousands of women, who years ago wore the large, +flaring back, felt hat, knew they were following the whim of a woman +known to the half-world as Cora Pearl? Not pretty, but of a very +beautiful figure, and English by birth, she was, one might say, of +course, a good horse-woman. She banqueted late one night--so late that +dawn was greying the windows and the sodden faces of her guests when +they began to take leave. She had indulged in too much wine for comfort; +her head was hot. She was seized with one of the wild whims of her +lawless class--she would mount then and there and ride in the Bois. +Remonstrances chilled her whim to iron will. Horses were sent for, her +maid aroused. She flung on her habit, and held her hand out for her +chapeau. There was none. + +"Mademoiselle should recall the new riding hat had been too small, had +been returned for blocking." + +"Tres bien, le vieux donc, vite!" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, il fut donné." A quick blow stopped further explanation. + +"Quelle que cruche, que cette fille," then a moment's silence, a roving +about of the small hot eyes, and with a bound she tore from an American +artist's hand his big soft felt hat. Turning the flapping brim up, she +fastened it to the crown in three places with jewelled pins, tore a +bunch of velvet from her dinner corsage, secured it directly in front, +and clapping the hat on the back of her head, dashed downstairs and was +in the saddle with a scrabble and a bound, and away like mad, followed +by two men, who were her unwilling companions. Riding longer than she +had intended, she returned in broad daylight. All Paris was agog over +her odd head gear. Her impudent, laughing face caught their fancy yet +again, and she trotted down from the Arc de Triomphe between two +rippling little streams of comment and admiration, with, "Comme elle est +belle!" "Quelle aplomb!" "Matin, quelle chic!" "Elle est forte +gentille!" "C'est le coup de grace!" "Le chapeau! le chapeau!" "La belle +Pearl! la belle Pearl!" reaching her distinctly at every other moment. + +And that was the origin of the back-turned, broad-brimmed hat that had +such vogue before the arrival of the Gainsborough or picture hat. + +If I were a young actress, I would rather be noted for acting than for +originating a new style of garment; but it is a free country, thank God, +and a big one, with room for all of us, whatever our preferences. And +though the young actress has the clothes question heavy on her mind now, +and finds it hard to keep up with others and at the same time out of +debt, she has the right to hope that by and by she will be so good an +actress, and so valuable to the theatre, that a fat salary will make the +clothes matter play second fiddle, as is right and proper it should, to +the question of fine acting. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV + +THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS_ + + +Thousands of persons who do not themselves use slang understand and even +appreciate it. The American brand is generally pithy, compact, and +expressive, and not always vulgar. Slang is at its worst in contemptuous +epithets, and of those the one that is lowest and most offensive seems +likely to become a permanent, recognized addition to the language. No +more vulgar term exists than "masher," and it is a distinct comfort to +find Webster ascribing the origin of the word to England's reckless +fun-maker,--_Punch_. + +Beaux, bucks, lady-killers, Johnnies,--all these terms have been applied +at different periods to the self-proclaimed fascinator of women, and +to-day we will use some one, any of them, rather than that +abomination,--masher. Nor am I "puttin' on scallops and frills," as the +boys say. I know a good thing when I hear it, as when a very much +overdressed woman entered a car, and its first sudden jerk broke her +gorgeous parasol, while its second flung her into the arms of the +ugliest, fattest man present and whirled her pocket-book out of the +window, I knew that the voice of conviction that slowly said, "Well, she +is up against it," slangily expressed the unfortunate woman's exact +predicament. Oh, no, I'm not "puttin' on frills," I am only objecting +with all my might and main to a term, as well as to the contemptible +creature indicated by it,--masher. + +In a certain school, long ago, there was a very gentle, tender-hearted +teacher, who was also the comforter and peacemaker of her flock. +Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one +else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, +and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the +teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks +of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent +floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue +and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, +"There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll +all be quite happy." I am sure we all thought that it was the eleventh +commandment, "Not to say anything more about it." + +Now every one of us suffered more or less from our encounters with the +multiplication table. Of course _fives_ and _tens_ were at a +premium--even very stupid little girls could get through them, and +_twos_ were not so bad, but the rest of the tables were tear-washed +daily. _Sevens_ were, however, my own especial nightmare--even to this +day my fingers instinctively begin to move when I multiply any figure by +seven. Standing in class on the platform, the _sevens_ one day fell to +me. Being charged to put my hands before me, that I should not by chance +forget and count by their aid, I staggered and reeled through the table +so far as seven times seven, when, moistening my lips, I hoarsely +whispered, "Forty-nine," and the shock of finding the answer correct +destroyed me utterly. Seven times eight was anything they liked in +figures, and so I recklessly cried out, "Oh, sixty-two, I guess," and +burst into tears. Recess came, and I would not move from my desk; and +then the teacher dried my tears on her own cool, sweet handkerchief, and +was comforting me as best she could, when suddenly I stole her thunder +by pressing my damp cheek to hers and saying eagerly, "Don't let us say +anything more about the _sevens_, Miss Sands, and then we'll all be +quite happy." + +Poor little tots! Poor multiplication table! and now, oh, how I would +like to cry, "Don't let us say anything more about the masher, and then +we'll all be quite happy;" but to calm the needless fears of many, let +me say at once, the creature is a nuisance, but not a danger. The +stealthy, crafty, determined pursuer of the young and honest actress is +a product of the imagination. These "Johnnies" who hang about stage +doors and send foolish and impertinent notes to the girlhood of the +stage are not in love--they are actuated by vanity, pure and simple. +These young "taddies," with hair carefully plastered down, are as like +one another as are the peas of one pod,--each wishes to be considered a +very devil of a fellow; but how can that be unless he is recognized as a +fascinator of women, a masher; and the quickest way to obtain that +reputation is to be seen supping or driving with pretty actresses. + +One of the odd things of the professional life is that in the artistic +sense you are not considered an "actress" until you have shown some +merit, have done some good, honest work; but for the purposes of gossip +or scandal, ballet girls, chorus girls, or figurantes become actresses +full fledged. Mammas and aunties of would-be young artists seem to have +made a veritable bogy-man of this would-be lady-killer. What nonsense! +Any well-brought-up young woman, respecting the proprieties, can protect +herself from the attentions of this walking impertinence. Letters are +his chief weapon. If they are signed, it is easy to return them, if one +cares to take so much trouble. A gift would be returned; if sent without +a signature, it need not be shown nor worn. If the creature presumes to +hang about the stage door, a word of complaint to the manager will be +sufficient; the "masher" will at once "take notice" of some other door +and probably of some other actress. But I am asked, Why does he exist? +And I suppose he could not if he were not encouraged, and there does +exist a certain body of girls who think it great fun to get a jolly +supper or a ride to the races out of the Johnny's pocket-book. Wait, +now; please don't jump instantly to the conclusion that these chorus or +ballet girls are thoroughly bad because they smash to smithereens the +conventional laws regulating the conduct of society girls. Most of them, +on the contrary, are honest and, knowing how to take care of themselves, +will risk hearing a few impudent, wounding words rather than lose one +hour of merriment their youth craves. Of course this is not as it should +be, but these girls are pretty; life has been hard; delicate +sensibilities have not been cultivated in them. Before we harshly +condemn, let us first bow to that rough honesty that will defend +itself, if need be, with a blow. A refined girl would never put herself +in a position requiring such drastic measures; but it is, I think, to +these reckless young wretches, and a few silly, sentimental simpletons +who permit themselves to be drawn into a mawkish correspondence with +perfect strangers, that we really owe the continued existence of the +stage-door "masher," who wishes to be mistaken for a member of the +_jeunesse dorée_. + +But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another +reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over +is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising +artist, Miss G----, is not his style. He is not looking for brains, +"don't yer know." He fancies No. 3 in the second row, she with the +flashing eyes and teeth; or No. 7 in the front row, that has the cutest +kick in the whole crowd. And his cheap and common letters of fulsome +compliment and invitation go to her accordingly. But the daring little +free lance who accepts these attentions pays a high price for the bit of +supper that is followed by gross impertinences. One would think that the +democratic twenty-five-cent oyster stew, and respect therewith, would +taste better than the small bird and the small bottle with insult as a +_demi-tasse_. Then, too, she loses caste at once; for it is not enough +that a girl should not do evil: she must also avoid the appearance of +evil. She will be judged by the character of her companions, and a few +half-hearted denials, a shrug of the shoulders, a discreetly suppressed +smile, will place her among the list of his "mashes." Oh, hideous word! + +Of course, now and again, at long, long intervals, a man really falls in +love with a woman whom he has seen only upon the stage; but no "masher" +proceedings are taken in such cases. On the other hand, very determined +efforts are made to locate the actress's family or friends, and through +them to be properly presented. + +Believing, as I did, that every girl had a perfect right to humiliate a +"masher" to the extent of her ability, I once went, it's hard to admit +it, but really I did go, too far in reprisal. Well, at all events, I was +made to feel rather ashamed of myself. We were presenting "Alixe" at Mr. +Daly's Broadway Theatre, just after the fire, and the would-be +lady-killer was abroad in the land and unusually active. There was +seldom a night that some one was not laughing contemptuously or frowning +fiercely over a "drop letter," as we called them. One evening my box +held a most inflammable communication. It was not written upon club +paper, nor had it any private monogram; in fact, it was on legal cap. +The hand was large, round, and laboriously distinct. The i's were +dotted, the t's crossed with painful precision, while toward capitals +and punctuation marks the writer showed more generosity than +understanding. His sentiment and romance were of the old-time rural +type, and I am certain he longed to quote, "The rose is red, the +violet's blue." I might have been a little touched but for the +signature. I loathed the faintest hint of anonymity, and simply could +not bring myself to believe that any man really and truly walked up and +down the earth bearing the name of Mr. A. Fix. Yet that was the +signature appended to the long, rapturous love-letter. I gave it a pitch +into the waste-basket and dressed for the play. Of course I spoke of the +name, and of course it was laughed at; but three nights later another +letter came--oh, well, it was just a letter. The writer was very +diffuse, and evidently had plenty of paper and ink and time at his +disposal. He dwelt on his sufferings as each day passed without a letter +from me. He explained just what efforts he had made, vainly made, to +secure sleep each night. He did not live in a large city when at home, +and he described how nearly he had come to being run over in trying to +cross our biggest street--while thinking of me. Oh, Mr Fix! He bravely +admitted he was due at the store out home, but he kept a-thinking I +might not have got that first letter, or maybe I wanted to look him over +before writing. So he had waited and was coming to the theatre that very +night, and his seat was in the balcony,--No. 3, left side, front +row,--and for fear I might not feel quite sure about him, he would hold +high to his face, in his left hand, a large white handkerchief. + +It didn't seem to occur to him that such an attitude would give him a +very grief-stricken aspect; he only desired to give me a fair chance "to +look him over." Without a second thought, I read that portion of the +letter in the greenroom, and the laughter had scarcely died away when +that admirable actor, but perfectly fiendish player of tricks, Louis +James, was going quietly from actor to actor arranging for the downfall +of A. Fix. + +So it happened that James, Clarke, and Lewis, instead of entering in a +group, came on in Indian file, each holding in the left hand a large +pocket-handkerchief. I being already on the stage, there was of course a +line spread of canvas in the balcony. The audience, ever quick to catch +on to a joke, seeing each man glance upward, followed suit, spied the +enormous handkerchief held high in the left hand, and realizing the +situation, burst into hilarious laughter. Uselessly I pleaded; at every +possible opportunity the white handkerchief appeared in some left hand, +while the stage manager vainly wondered why the audience laughed in such +unseemly places that night. + +The next day that young person, whom I had treated as a common "masher," +heaped a whole shovelful of hot, hot coals upon my guilty head by +writing me a letter less carefully dotted and crossed, somewhat more +confused in metaphor than before, but beginning with: "I am afraid you +are cruel. I think you must have betrayed me to your mates, for I do not +remember that they did such things before last night with their +handkerchiefs." + +Then, after telling me his home address, his business, and his exact +standing socially, he laid these specially large hot coals carefully +upon my brow, "So, though you make a laughing-stock of me, now don't +think I shall be mad about it; but remember if any trouble or sickness +comes to you, no matter how far from now, if you will just write me one +word, I'll help you to my plumb last cent," and truly Mr. Fix left me +ashamed and sorry. + +He had suffered for his name, which I believed to be an assumed one. +Poor young man, I offer an apology to his memory. + +One scamp wrote so brazenly, so persistently, demanding answers to be +sent to a certain prominent club, that I one day laid the letters before +Mr. Daly, and he advertised in the theatre programme that "if Mr. +B.M.B., of such a club, would call at the box office, he would receive +not the answer he expected, but the one he deserved," and Mr. Daly was +highly delighted when he heard that B.M.B., who was a "masher" _par +excellence_, had been literally chaffed out of the club rooms. + +Those creatures that, like poisonous toadstools, spring up at street +corners to the torment of women, should be taken in hand by the police, +since they encumber the streets and are a menace and a mortification to +female citizens. Let some brazen woman take the place of one of these +street "mashers," and proceed to ogle passers-by, and see how quickly +the police would gather her in. + +But so far as the stage "masher" is concerned, dear and anxious mamma, +auntie, or sister, don't worry about the safety of your actress to be. +The "masher" is an impertinence, a nuisance; but never, dear madam, +never a danger. + + + + +_CHAPTER XV + +SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES_ + + +"What social conditions exist behind the scenes?" + +This fourth question is one that Charles Dickens would have called an +"agriwator," and as it is repeated every now and again, I ask myself +where is the curiosity about the theatre, its people, and its life to +end? The question is, What social conditions exist behind the scenes? +Now to be quite frank, the first few times this query appeared, I was +distinctly aggravated. I said to myself, do these ladies and +gentlemen--yes, three males are in this inquiring group--do they think +we are a people so apart from all others that we require a separate and +distinctly different social code; that we know nothing of the law +governing the size, style, and use of the visiting card; that +congratulations, condolences, are unknown rites; that invitations, +acceptances, and regrets are ancient Hebrew to us, and calls, teas, +dinners, and dances are exalted functions far above our comprehension? +And then I read the question again, and saw I was making a ninny of +myself--an easy thing to do with the thermometer at ninety-nine in the +shade. That it said "behind the scenes," and with a laugh I recalled the +little child who had delightedly witnessed her first Christmas +pantomime; and being told afterward I was one of the people of the play, +she watched and listened eagerly some time before coming and resting a +dimpled hand on mine, to ask disappointedly, "Please, does all the +actin' people have 'emselves jes' same as any one?" + +Poor blue-eyed tot, she had expected at least a few twirls about the +room, a few bounds and hand kisses; and here I was "'having" just like +any one. So all my mistaken vexation gone, I'll try to make plain our +social condition behind the scenes. + +In the first place, then, a theatrical company is almost exactly like +one large family. Our feeling for one another is generally one of warm +good-fellowship. In our manners there is an easy familiarity which we +would not dream of using outside of our own little company circle. We +are a socially inclined people, communicative, fond of friendly +conversation, and hopelessly given over to jokes, or, as we put it, "to +guying." + +But don't imagine there's any _socialism_ about a theatre that means +community of property and association; on the contrary, we enter into +the keenest competition with one another. + +I dare say an outsider, as the non-professional has been termed time out +of mind, watching our conduct for a few days and nights, would conclude +that, though quite harmless, we are all a little _mad_. For the actor's +funny habit of injecting old, old lines of old, old plays into his +everyday conversation must be somewhat bewildering to the uninitiated:-- + +If an elderly, heavy breathing, portly gentleman, lifting his hat to a +gentle, dignified little lady, remarks, "Beshrew me, but I do love thee +still. Isn't it hot this morning; take this chair." Or if a very slender +pop-eyed young comedian, while wiping his brow, says, "Now could I drink +hot blood and hold it not a sin," and some one else calmly answers, "You +haven't got those words right, and you couldn't drink anything hot +to-day without having a fit." Or if two big, stalwart men, meeting in +the "entrance," fall suddenly into each other's arms, with a cry of +"Camille!" "Armand!" Or if a man enters the greenroom with his hat on, +and a half-dozen people call, "Do you take this for an ale-house, that +you can enter with such a swagger?" and the hat comes off with a +laughing apology. Or if the man with the cane is everlastingly +practising "carte and tierce" on somebody, or doing a broadsword fight +with any one who has an umbrella. If a woman passes with her eyes cast +down, reading a letter, and some one says, "In maiden meditation, fancy +free." If she eats a sandwich at a long rehearsal, and some one +instantly begins, "A creature not too bright nor good for human nature's +daily food." If she appears in a conspicuously new gown and some one +cries, "The riches of the ship have come on shore," ten to one she +replies, "A poor thing, but mine own." + +These things will look and sound queer and flighty to the outsider, who, +not acquainted with the lines or the plays they are from, cannot of +course see how aptly some of them adapt themselves to the situation. But +this one is plain to all. A young girl, who was a very careless dresser, +was trailing along the "entrance" one evening, when behind her the +leading man, quoting Juliet, remarked, "'Thou knowest the mask of night +is on my cheek,' or I would not dare tell you your petticoat is coming +off;" a perfect gale of laughter followed, in which the little sloven +joined heartily. + +Then one morning, rehearsal being dismissed, I was hurrying away, +intending to enjoy a ride on horse-back, when Mr. Davidge, Mr. Daly's +"old man," lifting his hat politely, and twisting Macbeth's words very +slightly, remarked, "I wish your horse swift and sure of foot, and so I +do commend you to its back," and as I laughed, "Macbeth, Act III," we +parted in mutual admiration for each other's knowledge of the great +play. + +The gentlemen are attentive to the ladies' small needs, providing seats +when possible, bringing a wrap, a glass of water, fanning you if you are +warm, carrying your long train if it is heavy; but never, never losing +the chance to play a joke on you if they can. + +There is generally some ringleader of greenroom fun; for most actors +are very impatient of "waits" between the scenes, and would rather pass +such time in pranks than in quiet conversation. On one occasion some of +the actors had made noise enough to reach the managerial ear, and they +were forfeited. The actresses laughed at their discomfiture, and revenge +was at once in order. Next night, then, four young men brought bits of +calico and threaded needles with them, and when their "wait" came, they +all sat quietly in a row and sewed steadily. The sight was so ludicrous +the women went off into unbounded laughter, and were in their turn +forfeited. + +Nothing excuses the use of swear words behind the scenes, and even a +very mild indulgence is paid for by a heavy forfeit. One actor, not too +popular with the company, used always to be late, and coming into the +dressing room, he would fling everything about and knock things over, +causing any amount of annoyance to his room-mates. He went on in but +one act, the third, and the lateness of the hour made his lack of +business promptitude the more marked. A joke was, of course, in order, +and a practical joke at that. + +One evening he was extra late, and that was the opportunity of the +joking room-mates. They carefully dropped some powerful, strong-holding +gum into the heels of his patent leather shoes, and had barely put them +in place, when the ever-late actor was heard coming on the run down the +passage. In he tore, flinging things right and left, overturning +make-ups, and knocking down precious silk hats. He grabbed his shoes, +jammed his foot into one, scowled and exclaimed disgustedly, "What the +deuce! there's something in this shoe. Bah," he went on, "and in this +one, too!" + +"Take them off and shake 'em," suggested the dropper of the gum. + +"No time," growled the victim; "I'll get docked if I'm a second late. +But these confounded things feel damp in the heels," and he kicked and +stamped viciously. + +"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the +heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now, +personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like--like a +china nest-egg, don't you know; but _damp heels_, it doesn't sound +right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!" + +And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you +spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then +asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place, +"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?" + +"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I +have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This +while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy known in +its fulness to the practical joker alone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"_] + +The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment +his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could +scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried +nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the +street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas, +alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint, +his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck, +it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,--that +they brought both sock and skin with them. + +Three men, with tears in their eyes, had pencils, and kept tally of his +remarks as he danced about after each frantic tug at a glued-on shoe. +One took down every wounding, malicious word. A second caught and +preserved every defamatory word. While the third and busiest one secured +every profane word that fell from his enraged lips. + +Finally he poured the contents of the alcohol bottle into his shoes and, +swearing like a madman, waited for the gum to soften. And the manager, +who was not deaf, proved that his heart was harder than the best gum and +could not be softened at all. And to this day no member of the company +knows how much of the victim's salary was left to him that week after +forfeits for bad words were all paid up. But some good came from the +affair, for the actor was never again so late in arriving as not to have +time to look into his shoes for any strange substance possibly lurking +there. + +Personally, I detest the practical joke, but I have, alas! never been +above enjoying my share of the greenroom fun. Some members of Mr. Daly's +company were very stately and dignified, and he would have been glad had +we all been like them. But there were others who would have had fun with +the tombs of the Egyptian kings, and who could wring smiles from a +graven image. Mr. Daly forfeited at last so recklessly, that either the +brakes had to be put upon our fun or some one would have to do picket +duty. The restless element had a wait of an entire long act in one play, +and among those who waited was a tiny little bit of an old, old man. He +wore rags in his "part," and on the seat of his trousers was an enormous +red patch. He had been asked to stand guard in the greenroom door, and +nothing loath, he only argued deprecatingly: "You'll all get caught, I'm +afraid. You see, Mr. Daly's so sharp, if I cough, he'll hear me, too, +and will understand. If I signal, he'll see me, and we'll all get +forfeited together." + +For a moment we were silently cast down. Then I rose to the occasion +beautifully. I took the wee little man and placed him in the greenroom +doorway, leaning with his back against the door-jamb. When he saw Mr. +Daly in the distance, he simply was to turn his bright red patch +_toward_ us--we would do the rest. + +It was a glorious success. We kept an eye on the picket, and when the +red patch danger signal was shown, silence fell upon the room. Forfeits +ceased for a long time. Of course we paid our watchman for his +services--paid him in pies. He had a depraved passion for bakers' pies, +which he would not cut into portions, because he said it spoiled their +flavour--he preferred working his way through them; and that small grey +face seen near the centre of a mince pie whose rim was closing gently +about his ears was a sight to make a supreme justice smile. + +But our evil course was almost run: our little pie-eater, who was just a +touch odd, or what people call "queer," on Thanksgiving Day permitted +himself to be treated by so many drivers of pie wagons that at night he +was tearful and confused, and though he watched faithfully for the +coming of Mr. Daly, while we laughingly listened to a positively +criminal parody on "The Bells," watched for and saw him in ample time, +he, alas! confusedly turned his red patch the wrong way, and we, every +one, came to grief and forfeiture in consequence. + +Obliging people, generous, ever ready to give a helping hand. Behind the +scenes, then, our social condition, I may say, is one of good-mannered +informality, of jollity tempered by respect and genuine good-fellowship. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVI + +THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION_ + + +Nothing in my autobiography seems to have aroused so much comment, so +much surprise, as my admission that I prayed in moments of great +distress or anxiety, even when in the theatre. + +One man writes that he never knew before that there was such a thing as +a "praying actress." Poor fellow, one can't help feeling there's lots of +other things he doesn't know; and though I wish to break the news as +gently as possible, I have to inform him that I am not a _rara avis_, +that many actresses pray; indeed, the woods are full of us, so to +speak. + +One very old gentleman finds this habit of prayer "commendable and +sweet," but generally there seems to be a feeling of amazement that I +should dare, as it were, to bring the profession of acting to the +attention of our Lord; and yet we are authorized to pray, "Direct us, O +Lord, in _all our doings_, and further us with thy continual help, that +in all our work we may glorify thy holy name." + +It is not the work, but the motive, the spirit that actuates the work; +whether embroidering stoles, sawing wood, washing dishes, or acting, if +it is done honestly, for the glory of the holy name, why may one not +pray for divine help? + +One lady, who, poor soul, should have been born two or three hundred +years ago, when her narrowness would have been more natural, is shocked, +almost indignant; and though she is good enough to say she does not +accuse me of "intentional sacrilege," still, addressing a prayer to God +from a theatre is nothing less in her eyes than profanation. "For," says +she, "you know we must only seek God in His sanctuary, the church." + +Goodness, mercy! in that case some thousands of us would become heathen +if we never found God save inside of a church. + +Does this poor lady not read her Bible, then? Has she not heard the +psalmist's cry: "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there. If I make +my bed in hell, behold, thou art there also; whither shall I flee from +thy presence?" + +Surely, there are a great many places besides the church between heaven +and hell, and even in a theatre we may not flee from His presence. + +But lest the young girl writers should feel abashed over their +expressions of surprise at my conduct, I will show them what good +company they have had. + +A good many years ago a certain famous scholar and preacher of New York +City called upon me one day. I was absent, attending rehearsal. The +creed of his denomination was particularly objectionable to me, but +having wandered into the big stone edifice on Fourth Avenue one Sunday, +I was so charmed by his clear reasoning, his eloquence, and, above all, +by his evident sincerity, that I continued to go there Sunday after +Sunday. + +In my absence he held converse with my mother as to his regret at +missing me, as to the condition of the weather, as to the age, +attainments, and breed of my small dog, who had apparently been seized +with a burning desire to get into his lap. We afterward found she only +wished to rescue her sweet cracker, which he sat upon. + +In his absent-minded way he then fell into a long silence, his handsome, +scholarly head drooping forward. Finally he sighed and remarked:-- + +"She is an actress, your daughter?" + +My mother, with lifted brows, made surprised assent. + +"Yes, yes," he went on gently, "an actress, surely, for I see my paper +commends her work. I have noted her presence in our congregation, and +her intelligence." (I never sleep in the daytime.) "Our ladies like her, +too; m-m, an actress, and yet takes an interest in her soul's salvation; +wonderful! I--I don't understand! no, I don't understand!" A speech +which did little to endear its maker to the actress's mother, I'm +afraid. + +See how narrowing are some creeds. This reverend gentleman was +personally gentle, kind, considerate, and naturally just; yet, knowing +no actor's life, never having seen the inside of a playhouse, he, +without hesitation, denounced the theatre and declared it the gate of +hell. + +In the amusing correspondence that followed that call, the great +preacher was on the defensive from the first, and in reading over two +or three letters that, because of blots or errors, had to be recopied, I +am fairly amazed at the temerity of some of my remarks. In one place I +charge him with "standing upon his closed Bible to lift himself above +sinners, instead of going to them with the open volume and teaching them +to read its precious message." + +Perhaps he forgave much to my youth and passionate sincerity; at all +events, we were friends. I had the benefit of his advice when needed, +and, in spite of our being of different church denominations, he it was +who performed the marriage service for my husband and myself. + +So, girl writers, who question me, you see there have been other pebbles +on my beach, and some big ones, too. + +The question, then, that has been put so many times is, "Can there be +any compatibility between religion and the stage?" + +Now had it been a question of church and stage, I should have been +forced to admit that the exclusive spirit of the first, and the +unending occupation of the second, kept them uncomfortably far apart. +But the question has invariably been as to a compatibility between +religion and the stage. Now I take it that religion means a belief in +God, and the desire and effort to do His will; therefore I see nothing +incompatible between religion and acting. I am a church-woman now; but +for many years circumstances prevented my entering the great army of +Christians who have made public confession of their faith, and received +baptism as an outward and visible sign of a spiritual change. Yet during +those long years without a church I was not without religion. I knew +naught of "justification," of "predestination," of "transubstantiation." +I only knew I must obey the will of God. Here was the Bible; it was the +word of God. There was Christ, beautiful, tender, adorable, and he said: +"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy +soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment; +and the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as +thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." + +Add to these the old Mosaic "Ten," and you have my religious creed +complete. And though it is simple enough for a child to comprehend, it +is difficult for the wisest to give perfect obedience, because it is not +always easy to love that tormenting neighbour, even a little bit, let +alone as well as oneself. How I wish there was some other word to take +the place of "religion." It has been so abused, so misconstrued. +Thousands of people shrink from the very sound of it, believing that to +be religious means the solemn, sour-faced setting of one foot before the +other in a hard and narrow way--the shutting out of all beauty, the +cutting off of all enjoyment. Oh, the pity! the pity! Can't they read? + +"Let all those that seek thee be joyful and glad in thee, and let such +as love thee and thy salvation say always, The Lord be praised." Again, +"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." But it is not always in giving alone +that He loves cheerfulness. Real love and trust in God--which is +religion, mind you--makes the heart feather light, opens the eye to +beauty, the heart to sympathy, the ear to harmony, and all the merriment +and joy of life is but the sweeter for the reverent gratitude one +returns to the Divine Giver. + +One evening, in a greenroom chatter, the word "religious" had in some +way been applied to me, and a certain actress of "small parts," whose +life had been of the bitterness of gall, suddenly broke out with: +"What--what's that? religious--you? Well, I guess not! Why, you've more +spirits in a minute than the rest of us have in a week, and you are as +full of capers as a puppy. I guess I know religion when I see it. It +makes children loathe the Bible by forcing them to learn a hundred of +its verses for punishment. It pulls down the shades on Sundays, eats +cold meat and pickles, locks up bookcase and piano, and discharges the +girl for walking with her beau. Oh, no! my dear, you're not religious." + +Poor abused word; no wonder it terrifies people. + +How many thousand women, I wonder, are kept from church by their +inability to dress up to the standard of extravagance raised by those +who are more wealthy than thoughtful. Even if the poor woman plucks up +her courage and enters the church, the magnificence of her fortunate +sisters distracts her attention from the service, and fills her with +longing, too often with envy, and surely with humiliation. + +Some years ago a party of ultra-high churchwomen decided to wear only +black during Lent. One of these ladies condescended to know me, and in +speaking of the matter, she said: "Oh, I think this black garb is more +than a fad, it really operates for good. It is so appropriate, you know, +and--and a constant reminder of that first great fast--the origin of +Lent; and as I walk about in trailing black, I know I look devout, and +that makes me feel devout, and so I pray often, and you're always the +better for praying, even if your dress is at the bottom of it--and, oh, +well, I feel that I am in the picture, when I wear black during Lent." + +But the important thing is that before the Lenten season was half over, +female New York was walking the streets in gentle, black-robed dignity, +and evidently enjoying the keeping of Lent because, to use a theatrical +expression, "it knew it looked the part." + +So much influence do these petted, beloved daughters of the rich +exercise over the many, that I have often wished that, for the sake of +the poorer women, the wealthy ones would set a fashion of extreme +simplicity of costume for church-going. Every female thing has an +inalienable right to make herself as lovely as possible; and these +graceful, clever women of fashion would know as well how to make +simplicity charming as does the _grande dame_ of France, who is never +more _grande dame_ than when, in plain little bonnet, simple gown, and a +bit of a fichu, she attends her church. + +These bright butterflies have all the long week to flutter their +magnificence in. Their lunches, dinners, teas, dances, games, yachts, +links, race-courses--everyone gives occasion for glorious display. Will +they not, then, be sweetly demure on Sunday for the sake of the +"picture," spare their sisters the agony of craving for like beautiful +apparel? for God has made them so, and they can't help wanting to be +lovely, too. + +Perhaps some day a woman of fashion, simply clad, will turn up her +pretty nose contemptuously at splendour of dress at church service, and +whisper, "What bad form!" + +Then, indeed, as the tide sets her way, she will realize her power, and +the church will have many more attendants. The very poor woman will not +be so cruelly humiliated, and the wage-earning girl, who puts so much of +her money into finery, will have a more artistic and more suitable model +to follow. + +And you are beginning to think that free silver is not the only mad idea +that has been put forward by a seemingly sane person. Ah, well, it's +sixteen to one, you know, that this is both first and last of the church +dress-reform. + +To those two little maids who so anxiously inquire "if I believe prayer +is of any real service, and why, since my own could not always have been +answered," I can only say, they being in a minority, I have no authority +to answer their question here. Perhaps, though, they may recall the fact +that their loving mothers tenderly refused some of their most passionate +demands in babyhood. And we are yet but children, who often pray +improperly to our Father. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVII + +A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS_ + + +What is the most unpleasant experience in the daily life of a young +actress? + +Without pause for thought, and most emphatically too, I answer, her +passing unattended through the city streets at night; that is made +unalloyed misery, through terror and humiliation. The backwoods girl +makes her lonely way through the forest by blazed trees, but the way of +the lonely girl through the city streets is marked by blazing blushes. + +It is an infamy that a girl's honesty should not protect her by night as +well as by day. Those hideous hyenas of the midnight streets are never +deceived. By one glance they can distinguish between a good woman and +those poor wandering ghosts of dead modesty and honour, who flit +restlessly back and forth from alleys dark to bright gas glare; but +bring one of these men to book, and he will declare that "decent women +have no right to be in the streets after nightfall," as though citizens +were to maintain public highways for the sole use one-half the time of +all the evil things that hide from light to creep out at dark and meet +those companions who are fair by day and foul by night. + +Some girls never learn to face the homeward walk with steady nerves, +others grow used to the swift approach, the rapidly spoken word, and +receive them with set, stony face and deaf ears; but oh, the terror and +the shame of it at first! And this horror of the night takes so many +forms that it is hard to say which one is the most revolting--hard to +decide between the vile innuendo whispered by a sober brute or the +roared ribaldry of a drunken beast. + +In one respect I differ from most of my companions in misery, since +they almost invariably fear most the drunkard; while I ground my greater +fear of the sober man upon the simple fact that I can't outrun him as I +can a drunken one, at a pinch. One night, in returning home from a +performance of "Divorce,"--a very long play that brought me into the +street extra late,--a shrieking man flew across my path, and as a second +rushed after him with knife uplifted for a killing blow, his foot caught +in mine, and as he pitched forward the knife sank into his victim's arm +instead of his back as he had intended; and with the cries of "Murder! +Police!" ringing in my ears, I ran as if I were the murderess. These +things are in themselves a pretty high price to pay for being an +actress. + +I had a friend, an ancient lady, a relative of one of our greatest +actors, who, for independence' sake, taught music in her old age. One +night she had played at a concert and was returning home. Tall and +slight and heavily veiled, she walked alone. Then suddenly appeared a +well-looking young son of Belial, undoubtedly a gentleman by daylight. +He tipped his hat and twirled his mustache; she turned away her head. He +cleared his throat; she seemed quite deaf. He spoke; he called her +"girlie" (the scamp!). She walked the faster; so did he. He protested +she should not walk home alone; she stopped; she spoke, "Will you please +allow me to walk home in peace?" + +But, no, that was just what he would not do, and suddenly she answered, +"Very well, then, I accept your escort, though under protest." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Evadne"_] + +Surprised, he walked at her side. The way was long, the silence grew +painful. He ventured to suggest supper as they passed a restaurant; she +gently declined. At last she stopped directly beneath a gas-lamp, and +from her face, with sorrow-hollowed eyes and temples, where everyone of +her seventy-six years had been stamped in cruel line and crease and +wrinkle, she lifted up the veil and raised her sad old eyes +reproachfully to his. He staggered back, turned red, turned white, +stammered, took off his hat, attempted to apologize, then turned and +fled. + +"And what," I asked, "did you say to him?" + +"Say, say," she repeated; "justice need not be cruel. Why add anything +to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek. + +'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and +well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her +tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient +gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because +fate had left her without a protector. + +Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about; +but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch +your hare and then--" so, just catch your policeman. But believe me, +they rarely appear together,--your tormentor of women and your +policeman,--unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then +what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing +against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best +defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl. + +Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and +turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a +sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish +that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a +pity _I'm_ not," and disappeared in the dark side street. + +After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home +nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past +experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls--they +only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety, +though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk +shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then. + +I recall one snowy January night when I was returning home. It was on a +Saturday, and I had played a five-act play twice with but a sandwich for +my dinner, the weather forbidding my going home after the matinee. So +being without change to ride with, hungry and unutterably weary, I +started, bag in hand, to walk up Sixth Avenue. On the east side stood a +certain club house (it stands there yet, by the way), whose peculiar +feature was a vine-hung veranda across its entire front, from which an +unusually long flight of steps led to the sidewalk. Quite unmolested, I +had walked from the stage door almost to this building, when suddenly, +as if he had sprung from the very earth, a man was at my elbow +addressing me, and the fact that he was not English, and so not +understood, did not in the slightest degree lessen the terror his evil +face inspired. I shrank away from him, and he caught at my wrist. It was +too much. I gave a cry and started to run, when, tall and broad, a man +appeared at the foot of the club-house steps, just ahead of me. Ashamed +to be seen running, I halted, and dropped into a walk again. + +Then with that exaggerated straightening of back and stiffening of knee +adopted by one who tries to walk a floor-crack or chalk-line, the second +man approached me. He was very big, he was silvery grey, and his dignity +was portentous. At every step he struck the pavement a ringing blow with +a splendid malacca cane. Old-fashioned and gold-headed, it looked enough +like its owner to have been his twin brother. He lifted his high silk +hat, and with somewhat florid indignation inquired: "My c-hild, was that +in-nfamous cur annoying you shust now? A-a-h!" he broke off, +flourishing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had +hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted +away, across and down the avenue. + +"An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered +unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you +see at this moment, pray, eh? And, by the way, m' child, what in the +devil's name brings yer on the street alone at this hour, say, tell me +that?" and he assumed a most judicial attitude and manner. + +I replied, "I am going home from my work, sir." + +"Y-your w-what?" he growled. + +"My work, sir, at the theatre." + +"Good Lord!" he groaned, "and t-that crawlin' r-reptile couldn't let you +pass, you poor little soul, you!" + +Upon my word, I thought he was going to weep over me. Next moment he +turned his collar up with a violence that nearly upset him, and +exclaimed: "D-don't you be a-fraid. I'll see you safely home. G-go by +yourself? not much you won't! I'll take you to your mother. S-say, +you've got a mother, haven't you? Yes, that's right; every girl's worth +anythin's got a mother. I-I'll take you to her, sure; receive maternal +thanks, a-and all that. Oh, say, boys! look here!" he shouted, and +holding out the big cane in front of me to prevent my passing, he called +to him two other men, who slowly and with almost superhuman caution were +negotiating the snowy steps. + +"Say, Colonel! Judge! come here and help me p-pr'tect this un-fortunate +child." The Judge at that moment sat heavily and unintentionally down on +the bottom step, and the Colonel remarked pleasantly, though a trifle +vaguely, "T-that's the time he hit it"; while the fallen man asked +calmly from his snowy seat, "P-pr-protect what--f-from who?" + +"This poor ch-i-ld from raging beasts and in-famous scoundrels, Judge," +remarked my bombastic friend. + +"We're gentlemen, my dear; and say, get the Judge up, Colonel, and start +him, and we'll _all_ see her safe home. Damn shame, a la-dy can't walk +in safety, w-without 'er body of able-bodied cit-zens to protect her! +Com'er long, now, child." And he grasped my arm and pushed me gently +forward. + +The Colonel tipped his hat over one eye, gave a military salute, and +wavered back and forth. The Judge muttered something about "Honest woman +against city of New York," and something "and costs," and both fell to +the rear. + +And thus escorted by all these intoxicated old gallants, I made my +mortified way up the avenue, they wobbling and sliding and stammering, +and he who held my arm, I distinctly remember, recited Byron to me, and +told me many times that the Judge was "a p-perfect gentleman, and so was +his wife." + +This startling statement was delivered just as we reached Thirty-second +Street. Like an eel I slipped from his grasp, and whirling about, I said +as rapidly as I could speak, "I'm almost home now. I can see the light +from here, and I can't take you any farther out of your way," and I +darted down the darker street. + +Looking back from my own stoop, I saw the three kindly old sinners +making salutations at the corner. My bombastic friend and the Judge had +their hats off, waving them, and the Colonel saluted with such rigid +propriety, it seems a pity that he was facing the wrong way. + +I laugh, oh, yes, I laugh at the memory, until I think how silvery were +these three wine-muddled old heads, and then I feel "the pity, oh, the +pity of it!" + + + + +_CHAPTER XVIII + +A BELATED WEDDING_ + + +It was in a city in the far West that this small incident took place--a +city of the mountains still so young that some of its stateliest +business buildings of stone or marble, with plate-glass, fine furniture, +and electric lighting, were neighboured not merely by shanties, but +actually by tents. + +But though high up in the mountains, the young city was neither too far +nor too high for vice to reach it; and so it came about that a certain +woman, whose gold-bought smiles had become a trifle too mocking and +satirical to be attractive, had come to the young city and placed +herself at the head of an establishment where, at command, every one +from sunset laughed and was merry, and held out hungry, grasping little +hands for the gold showered upon them--laughed, with weary, pain-filled +eyes--laughed, with stiff, tired lips sometimes--but still laughed till +sunrise--and then, well, who cared what they did _then_? + +And this woman had waxed rich, and owned valuable property and much +mining stock, and was generous to those who were down on their luck, and +was quick with her revolver--as the man who tried to hold her up on a +lonely road found out to his sorrow. + +Now to this city there came a certain actress, and the papers and the +theatre bills announced a performance of the old French play of +"Camille." The wealthy Madame Elize, as she styled herself, had heard +and read much of both actress and play, and knew that it was almost a +nightly occurrence for men to shed tears over two of the scenes, while +women wept deliciously through the whole play. + +She determined that she would go to that performance, though the manager +assured the public, in large letters, that no one of her order could +possibly be admitted. And she declared "that she could sit out that or +any other play without tears. That no amount of play-acting could move +her, unless it was to laughter." + +And so the night came, and the best seat in the best box in all that +crowded theatre was occupied by a woman of forty-five, who looked about +thirty-eight, who, but for the fixed, immovable colour in her cheeks and +her somewhat too large and too numerous diamonds, might from her black +silk, rich dark furs, and her dignified bearing have passed for an +honest woman. + +She watched the first act with a somewhat supercilious manner, but the +second act found her wiping her eyes--very cautiously; there was that +unvarying colour to think of. The third act found her well back in the +shadow of the box curtain, and the last act she watched with a face of +such fixed determination as to attract the wondering comment of several +of the actors. + +When the curtain fell, one of them remarked, "I'd like to know what that +woman will do in the next few hours?" + +This is what she did. Keeping back till the house was nearly empty, she +left the theatre alone. Then she engaged a carriage--of which there were +very, very few in that city of the mountains, where the people did most +of their going and coming on horseback--and had herself conveyed to her +home, ablaze with light and full of laughter; and bidding the driver +wait, she entered quietly and went swiftly to her own apartment, where a +man in slippers and dressing-gown sat in a big armchair, sleeping over +the evening paper. + +She lost no time, but aroused him at once, shaking him by the shoulder, +and in cold, curt tones ordered him "to rise and dress for the street, +and to go with her." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in the 1st Act of "Camille"_] + +But he objected, asking: "Why the deuce he should go out that bitter +night? And was she a fool, or did she take him for one?" + +Upon which she had so savagely ordered him "to get on his boots, his +coat, and overcoat" that the sleepiness had vanished from his sharp +eyes, and he had exclaimed, "What is it, Kate? what's happened to you?" + +And she answered: "I've had a blow--no, don't reach for your gun. I +don't mean that--but, Jim, it hurts. (Here, let me tie that for you.) +I've had a blow straight at the heart, and a woman gave it--God bless +her! (Can't you brush your hair up over that thin place? Jim--why, Jim, +upon my soul, you're grey!) Oh, hurry! here, take your fur coat--you'll +need it. Come now--no, I won't tell till we're outside this house. +Come--on the quiet, now--come," and taking him by the arm she dragged +him down the hall and stairs, and so outside the front door. + +There she stopped. The man shivered at the cold, but kept his gleaming +eyes fastened on her white face, "Well?" he said. + +She stood looking up at the glory of the sky above her, where the stars +glittered with extraordinary brilliancy, and in an abstracted tone she +observed, "There's the 'Dipper.'" + +He watched her still silently; she went on: "Do you remember, Jim, when +I taught school down in Westbury, how we used to look at the 'Dipper' +together, because you didn't dare speak--of anything else? You got seven +dollars a week, then, and I--oh, Jim! why in God's name _didn't_ you +speak? Then I might never have come to this." She struck the lintel of +the door passionately, but went right on: "Yes--yes, I'm going to tell +you, and you've got to make a decision, right here, _now_! You'll think +I'm mad, I know; but see here now, I've got that woman's dying eyes +looking into mine; I've got that woman's voice in my ears, and her words +burnt into my living heart! I'll tell you by and by, perhaps, what +those words are, but first, my proposal: you are free to accept it, you +are free to refuse it, or you are free to curse me for a drivelling +idiot; but look you here, man, if you _laugh_ at it, I swear I'll _kill_ +you! Now, will you help me out of this awful life? Jim, will you get +into that carriage and take me to the nearest minister and marry me, or +will you take this 'wad' and go down that street and out of my life +forever?" + +In the pause that followed they looked hard into one another's eyes. +Then the man answered in six words. Pushing away the hand that offered +him a great tight-rolled mass of paper money, he said, "Put that +away--now, come on," and they entered the carriage, and drove to the +home of a minister. There a curious thing happened. They had answered +satisfactorily the reverend gentleman's many questions before he quite +realized _who_ the woman was. When he did recognize her, he refused to +perform the ceremony, and with words of contemptuous condemnation +literally drove them from the house, and with his ecclesiastical hand +banged the door after them. + +They visited another minister, and their second experience differed from +their first in two points,--the gentleman was quicker in his recognition +and refusal, and refrained from banging the door. And so they drove up +and down and across the city, till at last they stood at the carriage +door and looked helpless at each other. Then the man said, "That's the +last one, Kate," and the woman answered, "Yes, I know--I know." She drew +a long, hard breath that was not far from a sob, and added, "Yes, +they've downed me; but it wasn't a fair game, Jim, for they've played +with marked cards." + +She had entered the carriage when the driver with the all-pervading +knowledge and unlimited assurance of the Western hackman remarked +genially: "Madame Elize, there's another gospel-sharp out on the edge of +the town. He's poorer than Job's turkey, and his whole dorgon'd little +scantlin' church ain't bigger than one of them Saratogy trunks, but his +people just swear by him. Shall I take you out there?" + +Madame Elize nodded an assent, and once more they started. It was a long +drive. The horses strained up killing grades, sending out on the cold +air columns of steam from their dilating nostrils. The driver beat first +one hand and then the other upon his knees, and talked amicably if +profanely to his horses; but inside the carriage there was utter +silence. + +At last they stopped before a poor, cold-looking little cottage, and +entering made their wishes known to a blue-eyed, tall young man, with +thin, sensitive lips, who listened with grave attention. He knew +precisely who and what she was, and very gently told her he would have +to ask one unpleasant question, "Was the man at her side acquainted with +her past, or was he a stranger who was being deceived--victimized, in +fact?" + +And Kate, with shining eyes, turned and said: "Tell him, Jim, how for +six honest, innocent years we were friends. Then tell him how for +fifteen years we've been partners in life. Tell him whether you know me, +Jim, or whether you're victimized." + +And then the young minister had told them he was proud and thankful to +clasp their hands and start them on their new path, with God's blessing +on them. And they were married at last; and as they drove away, they +noted the strange outlines of the mountains, where they reared their +stupendous bulk against the star-sown sky. A sense of awe came upon +them--of smallness, of helplessness. Instinctively they clasped hands, +and presently the woman said: "Oh, Jim, the comfort of a wedding ring! +It circles us about so closely, and keeps out all the rest of the +world." + +And Jim stooped his head and kissed her. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIX + +SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR_ + + +It is not often, I fancy, that one defends one's hero or friend from +himself. Yet that about describes what I am doing now for the famous +Salvini. An acquaintance of mine, a man self-contained and dignified, +who was reading the other day, startled me by muttering aloud, "Oh, that +mine enemy would write a book!" and a moment later, flinging the volume +from him, he cried: "Where were his friends? Why did they permit him to +write of himself?" + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed in bewilderment, "where were whose friends? +Of whom are you speaking, and why are you so excited?" + +"Oh," he answered impatiently, "it's the disappointment! I judged the +man by his splendid work; but look at that book--the personal pronoun +forms one solid third of it. I know it does!" and he handed me the +volume in question. + +"Well," I said, as I glanced at the title,--"Autobiography of Tommaso +Salvini,"--"no matter what the book may say, Tommaso Salvini is a mighty +actor." And then I began to read. At first I was a bit taken aback. I +had thought Mr. Macready considered himself pretty favourably, had made +a heavy demand on the I's and my's in his book; but the bouquets he +presented to himself were modest little nosegays when compared with the +gorgeous floral set pieces provided _ad libitum_ for "Signor Salvini" by +Signor Salvini. + +Then presently I began to smile at the open honesty of this +self-appreciation, at the naïve admiration he expresses for his figure, +his voice, his power. "After all," I said, "when the whole civilized +world has for years and years affirmed and reaffirmed that he is the +greatest actor living, is it strange that he should come to believe the +world?" + +"But," growled my friend, "why could he not be content with the world's +statement? Why had he no reticence? Look at these declarations: that no +words can describe his power, that everybody wished to know him, that +everybody wished to claim his friendship, that everybody made it his +boast to be seen in his company, etc." + +"Well," I answered, "you certainly cannot doubt the truth of the +assertions. I believe every one of them. You see, you are not making any +allowance for temperament or early environment. Those who are humbly +born in a kingdom are lifted by a monarch's praise to the very pinnacle +of pride and joy and superiority. Think of the compliments paid this man +by royalty. Think, too, of his hot blood, his quick imagination. You +can't expect calm self-restraint from him; and just let me tell you, +for your comfort, that this 'book Salvini' is utterly unlike the kindly +gentleman who is the real, everyday Salvini." + +My friend looked at me a moment, then shaking hands he added gravely: +"Thank you. The great actor goes upon his pedestal again, to my own +satisfaction; but--but--don't think I care for this book. I'll wait till +some one else tells of his triumphs and his gifts," and laying it upon +the table he took his departure. + +It is astonishing what a misleading portrait Signor Salvini has drawn of +himself. I worked with him, and I found him a gentleman of modest, even +retiring, disposition and most courtly manners. He was remarkably +patient at the long rehearsals which were so trying to him because his +company spoke a language he could not understand. + +The love of acting and the love of saving were veritable passions with +him, and many were the amusing stories told of his economies; but, in +spite of his personal frugality, he was generous in the extreme to his +dear ones. + +When I had got over my first amazement at receiving a proposal to act +with the great Italian, Mr. Chizzola, his manager, stated terms, and +hastened to say that a way had been found by which the two names could +be presented without either taking preference of the other on the bill, +and that the type would of course be the same in both--questions I +should never have given a thought to, but over which my manager stood +ready to shed his heart's blood. And when I said that I should willingly +have gone on the bills as "supporting Signor Salvini," I thought he was +going to rend his garments, and he indignantly declared that such talk +was nothing less than heresy when coming from a securely established +star. + +At one of our rehearsals for the "Morte Civile," a small incident +occurred that will show how gracious Signor Salvini could be. Most +stars, having the "business" of their play once settled upon, seem to +think it veritable sacrilege to alter it, no matter how good the reason +for an alteration; and a suggestion offered to a star is generally +considered an impertinence. In studying my part of Rosalia, the +convict's wife, a very pretty bit of "business" occurred to my mind. I +was to wear the black cross so commonly seen on the breast of the Roman +peasant women, and once at an outbreak of Conrad's, I thought if I +raised that cross without speaking, and he drooped before it, it would +be effective and quite appropriate, as he was supposed to be +superstitiously devout. I mentioned it to young Salvini, who cried +eagerly, "Did you tell my father--did he see it?" + +"Good heavens!" I answered, "do you suppose I would presume to suggest +'business' to a Salvini? Besides, could anything new be found for him in +a play he has acted for twenty years? No, I have not told your father, +nor do I intend to take such a liberty." + +But next morning, when we came to that scene, Signor Salvini held up +his hand for a halt in the rehearsal, called for Alessandro, and, +bidding him act as interpreter, said, smiling pleasantly, to me, "Now +zee i-dee please you, madame?" for young Alessandro had betrayed my +confidence. There was a mocking sparkle in Salvini's blue eyes, but he +was politely ready to hear and reject "zee i-dee." I felt hot and +embarrassed, but I stood by my guns, and placing Alessandro in the +chair, I made him represent Conrad; and when he came to the furious +outburst, I swiftly lifted the cross and held it before his eyes till +his head sank upon my breast. But in a twinkling, with the cry, "No--no! +I show!" Salvini plucked Alessandro out of the seat, flung himself into +it, resumed the scene, and as I lifted the cross before his convulsed +features, his breath halted, slowly he lifted his face, when, divining +his meaning, I pressed the cross gently upon his trembling lips, and +with a sob his head fell weakly upon my breast. It was beautifully done; +even the actors were moved. Then he spoke rapidly to his son, who +translated to me thus: "How have I missed this 'business' all these +years? It is good--we will keep it always--tell madame that." And so, +courteously and without offence, this greatest of actors accepted a +suggestion from a newcomer in his play. + +A certain English actor, who had been with him two or three seasons, +made a curious little mistake night after night, season after season, +and no one seemed to heed it. Of course Salvini, not speaking English, +could not be expected to detect the error. Where the venomous priest +should humbly bow himself out with the veiled threat, "This may yet end +in a trial--and--conviction!" the actor invariably said, "This may yet +end in a trial of convictions!" Barely three nights had passed when +Signor Salvini said to his son, "Why does Miss Morris smile at that +man's exit? It is not funny. Ask why she smiles." And he was greatly put +out with his actor when he learned the cause of my amusement. A very +observant man, you see. + +He is a thinking actor; he knows _why_ he does a thing, and he used to +be very intolerant of some of the old-school "tricks of the trade." +Mind, when I was acting with him, he had come to understand fairly well +the English of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary, and if he was quite +calm and not on exhibition in any way, he could speak it a little and +quite to the point, as you will see. He particularly disliked the old, +old trick called "taking the stage," that is, when a good speech has +been made, the actor at its end crosses the stage, changing his position +for no reason on earth save to add to his own importance. It seemed +Salvini had tried through his stage manager to break up the wretched +habit; but one morning he saw an actor end his speech at the centre of +the stage, and march in front of every one to the extreme right-hand +corner. A curl came to the great actor's lip, then he said inquiringly, +"What for?" The actor stammered, "I--I--it's my cross, you know--the end +of my speech."--"Y-e-es," sweetly acquiesced the star. "Y-e-es, you +cross, I see--but what for?" The actor hesitated. "You do _so_," went on +Salvini, giving a merciless imitation of the swelling chest and stage +stride of the guilty one, as he had crossed from centre down to extreme +right. "You do so--but for _why_? A-a-ah!" Suddenly he seemed to catch +an idea. "A-a-ah! is it that you have zee business with zee people in +zee box? A-a-ah! you come spik to zose people? No? Not for that you +come? You have _no_ reason for come here, you say? Then, for God's sake, +stay centre till you _have_ a reason!" + +It was an awful lesson, but what delicious acting. The simple, earnest +inquiry, the delighted catching at an idea, the following +disappointment, and the final outburst of indignant authority--he never +did anything better for the public. + +During the short time we acted together but one cloud, a tiny, tiny one +of misunderstanding, rose between us, but according to reports made by +lookers-on a good deal of lightning came out of it. Of course not +understanding each other's language, we had each to watch the other as a +cat would watch a mouse, in order to take our cues correctly. At one +point I took for mine his sudden pause in a rapidly delivered speech, +and at that pause I was to speak instantly. We got along remarkably +well, for his soul was in his work, and I gave every spark of +intelligence I had in me to the effort to satisfy him; so by the fifth +or sixth performance we both felt less anxiety about the catching of our +cues than we had at first. On the night I speak of, some one on +Salvini's side of the stage greatly disturbed him by loud whispering in +the entrance. He was nervous and excitable, the annoyance (of which I +was unconscious) threw him out of his stride, so to speak. He glanced +off warningly and snapped his fingers. No use; on went the giggling and +whispering. At last, in the very middle of a speech, wrath overcame him. +He stopped dead. That sudden stop was my cue. Instantly I spoke. Good +heaven! he whirled upon me like a demon. I understood that a mistake had +been made, but it was not mine. I knew my cue when I got it. The humble +Rosalia was forgotten. With hot resentment my head went up and back with +a fling, and I glared savagely back at him. A moment we stood in silent +rage. Then his face softened, he laid the fingers of his left hand on +his lips, extending his right with that unspeakably deprecating +upturning of the palm known only to the foreign-born. An informing +glance of the eye toward the right, followed by a faint "_Pardon_!" was +enough. I dropped back to meek Rosalia, the scene was resumed, the cloud +had passed. But one man who had been looking on said: "By Jove! you +know, you two looked like a pair of blue-eyed devils, just ready to rend +each other. Talk about black-eyed rage; it's the lightning of the blue +eyes that sears every time." + +I had been quite wild to see Signor Salvini on his first visit to +America, and at last I caught up with him in Chicago, and was so happy +as to find my opportunity in an extra matinee. The play was "Othello," +and during the first act he looked not only a veritable Moor, but, what +was far greater, he seemed to be Shakespeare's own "Moor of Venice." The +splendid presence, the bluff, soldierly manner, the open, honest look, +as the "round unvarnished tale" was delivered, made one understand, +partly at least, how "that maiden never bold, a spirit so still and +quiet," had come at last to see "_Othello's_ visage _in his mind_, and +to his honour and his valiant parts to consecrate her fortune and her +soul!" Through all the noble scene, through all the soldierly dignity +and candid speech, there was that tang of roughness that so naturally +clung to the man whose life from his seventh year had been passed in +the "tented field," and who himself declared, "Rude am I in speech, and +little bless'd with the set phrase of peace." + +In short, Salvini was a delight to eye and ear, and satisfied both +imagination and judgment in that first act. Like many people who are +much alone, I have the habit of speaking sometimes to myself--a habit I +repented of that day, yes, verily I did; for when, at Cyprus, Othello +entered and fiercely swept into his swarthy arms the pale loveliness of +Desdemona, 'twas like a tiger's spring upon a lamb. The bluff and honest +soldier, the English Shakespeare's Othello, was lost in an Italian +Othello. Passion choked, his gloating eyes burned with the mere lust of +the "sooty Moor" for that white creature of Venice. It was revolting, +and with a shiver I exclaimed aloud, "Ugh, you splendid brute!" +Realizing my fault, I drew quickly back into the shadow of the curtain; +but a man's rough voice had answered instantly, "Make it a _beast_, +ma'am, and I'm with you!" I was cruelly mortified. + +[Illustration: _Tommaso Salvini_] + +But there was worse to happen that day. The leading lady, Signora +Piamonti, an admirable actress, was the Desdemona. She played the part +remarkably well, and was a fairly attractive figure to the eye, if one +excepted her foot. It was exceptionally long and shapeless, and was most +vilely shod. Her dresses, too, all tipped up in the front, unduly +exposing the faulty members; many were the comments made, and often the +query followed, "Why doesn't she get some American shoes?" I am sorry to +say that some of our daily papers even were ungracious enough to refer +to that physical defect, when only her work should have been considered +and criticised. + +The actors had reached the last act. The bed stood in the centre of a +shallow alcove, heavily curtained. These hangings were looped up at the +beginning of the act, and were supposed to fall to the floor, completely +concealing the bed and its occupant after the murder. The actor had +long before become again Shakespeare's Othello. We had seen him +tortured, racked, and played upon by the malignant Iago; seen him, while +perplexed in the extreme, irascible, choleric, sullen, morose; but now, +as with tense nerves we waited for the catastrophe, he was truly +formidable. The great tragedy moved on. Desdemona's piteous entreaties +had been choked in her slim throat, the smothering pillow held in place +with merciless strength. Then at Emilia's disconcerting knock and demand +for admission, Othello had let down and closely drawn the two curtains. +But alas and alack a day! though they were thick and rich and wide, they +failed to reach the floor by a good foot's breadth--a fact unnoticed by +the star. You may not be an actor; but really when you add to that +twelve or fourteen-inch space the steep incline of the stage--why, you +can readily understand how advisable it was for the dead Desdemona that +day to stay dead until the play was over. + +Majestically Othello was striding down to the door, where Emilia was +knocking for admittance, when there came that long in-drawn breath--that +"a-a-h!" that from the auditorium always means mischief--and a sudden +bobbing of heads this way and that in the front seats. In an instant the +great actor felt the broken spell, knew he had lost his hold upon the +people--but why? He went on steadily, and then, just as you have seen a +field of wheat surged in one wave by the wind, I saw the closely packed +people in that wide parquet sway forward in a great gust of laughter. +With quick, experienced eye I scanned first Othello's garb from top to +toe, and finding no unseemly rent or flaw of any kind to provoke +laughter, I next swept the stage. Coming to the close-drawn curtains, I +saw--heavens! No wonder the people laughed. The murdered Desdemona had +risen, was evidently sitting on the side of the bed; for beneath the +curtains her dangling feet alone were plainly seen, kicking cheerfully +back and forth. Such utterly unconscious feet they were that I think the +audience would not have laughed again had they kept still; but all at +once they began a "heel-and-toe step," and people rocked back and forth, +trying to suppress their merriment. And then--oh, Piamonti!--swiftly the +toe of the right foot went to the back of the left ankle and scratched +vigorously. Restraint was ended, every one let go and laughed and +laughed. From the box I saw in the entrance the outspread fingers, the +hoisted shoulders, the despairingly shaken heads of the Italian actors, +who could find no cause for the uproar. Salvini behaved perfectly in +that, disturbed, distressed, he showed no sign of anger, but maintained +his dignity through all, even when in withdrawing the curtains and +disclosing Desdemona dead once more the incomprehensible laughter again +broke out. But late as it was and short the time left him, he got the +house in hand again, again wove his charm, and sent the people away sick +and shuddering over his too real self-murder. + +As I was leaving the box I met one connected with the management of the +theatre, who, furious over the _faux pas_, was roughly denouncing the +actress, whom he blamed entirely, and I took it upon myself to suggest +that he pour a vial or two of his wrath upon the heads of his own +property man and the stage manager, who had grossly neglected their duty +in failing to provide curtains of the proper length. And I chuckled with +satisfaction as I saw him plunge behind the scenes, calling angrily upon +some invisible Jim to come forth. I had acted as a sort of lightning-rod +for a sister actress. + +Salvini's relations with his son were charming, though it sounded a bit +odd to hear the stalwart young man calling him "papa." Alessandro had +dark eyes and black hair, so naturally admired the opposite colouring, +and I never heard him speak of his father's English second wife without +some reference to her fairness. It would be "my blond mamma," "my little +fair mamma," "my father's pretty English wife," or "before my little +blond mamma died." He felt the "mamma" and "papa" jarred on American +ears, and often corrected himself; but when Signor Salvini himself once +told me a story of his father, he referred to him constantly as "my +papa," just as he does in this book of his that makes him seem so +egotistical and so determined to find at all costs the vulnerable spot, +the weak joint in the armour, of all other actors. + +Certainly he could not have been an egotist in the bosom of his family. +A friend in London went to call upon his young wife, his "white lily." +She was showing the house to her visitor, when, pausing suddenly before +a large portrait of her famous husband, she became silent, her uplifted +eyes filled, her lips smiled tremulously, she gave a little gasp, and +whispered, "Oh, he's almost like God to me!" + +The friend, startled, even shocked, was about to reprove her, but a +glance into the innocent face showed no sacrilege had been meant, only +she had never been honoured, protected, happy, before--and some women +worship where they love. Could an egotist win and keep such affection +and gratitude as that? + +Among those who complain of his opinionated book I am amused to find one +who fairly exhausted himself in praise, not to say flattery, of this +same Salvini. It is very diverting to the mere looker-on, when the world +first proclaims some man a god, bowing down and worshipping him, and +then anathematizes him if he ventures to proclaim his own godship. I +have my quarrel with the book, I confess it. I am sorry he does not show +how he did his tremendous work, show the nature of those sacrifices he +made. How one would enjoy a word-picture of the place where he obtained +his humble meals in those earliest days of struggle; who shared them, +and in what spirit they were discussed, grave or gay! Italian life is +apt to be picturesque, and these minor circumstances mean much when one +tries to get at the daily life of a man. But Salvini has given us merely +splendid results, without showing us _how_ he obtained them. Yet what a +lesson the telling would have been for some of our indolent actors! Why, +even at the zenith of his career, Salvini attended personally to duties +most actors leave to their dressers. He used to be in his dressing-room +hours before the overture was on, and in an ancient gown he would polish +his armour, his precious weapons or ornaments, arrange his wigs, examine +every article of dress he would require that night, and consequently he +never had mishaps. He used to say: "The man there? Oh, yes, he can pack +and lock and strap and check, but only an actor can understand the care +of these artistic things. What I do myself is well done; this work is +part of my profession; there is no shame in doing it. And all the time I +work, I think--I think of the part--till I have all forgot--_all_ but +just that part's self." + +And yet, O dear, these are the things he does not put in his book. When +he was all dressed and ready for the performance, Salvini would go into +a dark place and walk and walk and walk; sometimes droopingly, sometimes +with martial tread. Once, I said, "You walk far, signor?" + +"_Si, signorina_," he made answer, then eagerly, "_I walk me into him!_" +And while the great man was "walking into the character," the actors who +supported him smoked cigarettes at the stage door until the dash for +dressing room and costume. + +Some women scold because he has not given pictures of the great people +whom he met. "Why," they ask, "did he not describe Crown Princess +Victoria" (the late Empress Frederick) "at least--how she looked, what +she wore? Such portraits would be interesting." But Salvini was not +painting portraits, not even his own--truly. He was giving a list of his +triumphs; and if he has shown self-appreciation, he was at least +perfectly honest. There is no hypocrisy about him. If he knew Uriah +Heep, he did not imitate him; for in no chapter has he proclaimed +himself "'umble." If one will read Signor Salvini's book, remembering +that the pæans of a world have been sung in his honour, and that he +really had no superior in his artistic life, I think the I's and my's +will seem simply natural. + +However he may have been admired in other characters, I do truly believe +that only those who have seen him in "Othello" and "Morte Civile" can +fully appreciate the marvellous art of the actor. I carry in my mind two +pictures of him,--Othello, the perfect animal man, in his splendid +prime, where, in a very frenzy of conscious strength, he dashes Iago to +the earth, man and soldier lost in the ferocity of a jungle male beast, +jealously mad--an awful picture of raging passion. The other, Conrad, +after the escape from prison; a strong man broken in spirit, wasted with +disease, a great shell of a man--one who is legally dead, with the +prison pallor, the shambling walk, the cringing manner, the furtive +eyes. But oh, that piteous salute at that point when the priest +dismisses him, and the wrecked giant, timid as a child, humbly, +deprecatingly touches the priest's hand with his finger-tips and then +kisses them devoutly! I see that picture yet, through tears, just as I +saw for the first time that illustration of supreme humility and +veneration. + +Oh, never mind a little extravagance with personal pronouns! A beloved +father, a very thorough gentleman, but above all else the greatest actor +of his day. There is but the one Salvini, and how can he help knowing +it? So to book and author--ready! _Viva Salvini!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER XX + +FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE_ + + +The circus season was over, the animals had gone into comfortable winter +quarters, while the performers, less fortunate than the beasts, were +scattered far and near, "some in rags and some in tags, and some" (a +very few) "in velvet gowns." But one small group had found midwinter +employment, a party of Japanese men and women, who were jugglers, +contortionists, and acrobats; and as their work was pretty as well as +novel, they found a place on the programme of some of the leading +vaudeville theatres. + +They were in a large Western city. Behind the curtain their retiring +manners, their exquisite cleanliness, their grave and gentle +politeness, made them favourites with the working forces of the theatre, +while before the curtain the brilliant, graceful precision with which +they carried out their difficult, often dangerous, performance won them +the high favour of the public. + +On that special day the matinee was largely attended, the theatre being +filled, even to the upper circles, as at night. Smilingly the audience +had watched the movements of the miniature men and women in their +handsome native costumes, and with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" had seen them +emerge from those robes, already arrayed for acrobatic work, in suits of +black silk tights with trunks and shoulder and wrist trimmings of red +velvet fairly stiffened with gold embroideries; and then came the act +the people liked best, because it contained the element of danger, +because in its performance a young girl and a little lad smilingly +risked life and limb to entertain them. + +The two young things had climbed like cats up to the swinging bars, +high up, where the heat had risen from a thousand gas lights, and the +blood thundered in their ears, and the pulses on their temples beat like +hammers. So high, that looking down through the quivering, bluish mist, +the upturned faces of the people merged together and became like the +waters of a pale, wide pool. Their work was well advanced. With +clocklike precision they had obeyed, ever-smilingly obeyed, the orders +conveyed to them by the sharp tap of the fan their trainer held, though +to the audience the two young forms glittering in black and scarlet and +gold, poising and fluttering there, were merely playing in midair like a +pair of tropical birds. + +They were beginning their great feat, in which danger was so evident +that women often cried out in terror and some covered their eyes and +would not look at all--the music even had sunken to a sort of tremor of +fear. They were for the moment hanging head downward from their +separate bars, when across the stillness came the ominous sound of +cracking, splintering wood; afterward it was known that the rung of a +chair in an upper private box had broken, but then,--but _then_! the +sound was close to the swaying girl's ear! + +Believing it was her bar that was breaking, her strained nerves tore +free from all control! Driven by fear, she made a mad leap out into +space, reaching frantically for the little brown hands that a half +second later would have been ready for her, with life and safety in +their tenacious grasp. + +To those who do their work in space and from high places, the distance +between life and death, between time and eternity, is often measured by +half seconds. Little Omassa had leaped too soon, the small brown hands +with power to save were not extended. She grasped the empty air, gave a +despairing cry, and as she whirled downward, had barely time to realize +that the sun had gone black out in the sky, and that the world with its +shrieking millions was thundering to its end, when the awful crash came. + +There were shouts and shrieks, tears and groans, and here and there +helpless fainting. Ushers rushed from place to place, the police +appeared suddenly. The Japanese, silent, swift, self-controlled, were +moving their paraphernalia that the curtain might be lowered, were +stretching a small screen about the inert, fallen figure, were bringing +a rug to lift her on, and their faces were like so many old, _old_ ivory +masks. + +Tom McDermott, in his blue coat, stood by the silent little figure +waiting for the rug and for the coming of the doctor, and groaned, "On +her face, too--and she a girl child!" + +Tom had seen three battle-fields and many worse sights, but none of them +had misted his eyes as did this little glittering, broken heap, and he +turned his face away and muttered, "If she'd only keep quiet!" for truly +it was dreadful to see the long shudders that ran over the silent, +huddled thing, to see certain red threads broadening into very rivulets. +At last the ambulance, then the all-concealing curtain, the reviving +music, a song, a pretty dance, and _presto_, all was forgotten! + +When Omassa opened her eyes, her brain took up work just where it had +left off; therefore she was astonished to find the sun shining, for had +she not seen the sun go out quite black in the sky? Yet here it was so +bright, and she was--was, where? The room was small and clean, oh, +clean! like a Japanese house, and almost as empty. Could it be? But no, +this bed was American, and then why was she so heavy? What great weight +was upon her? She could not move one little bit, and oh, my! _what_ was +it she could faintly see beyond and below her own nose--was it shadow? +Surely she could not see her own _lip_? She smiled at that, and the +movement wrung a cry of agony from her--when, like magic, a face was +bending over her, so kind and gentle, and then a joyous voice cried to +some one in the next room, "This little girl, not content with being +alive, sir, has her senses--is she not a marvel?" + +And with light, delicate touch the stranger moistened the distended, +immovable lip poor Omassa had dimly seen, through which her lower teeth +had been driven in her fall, and in answer to her pleading, questioning +glances at her own helpless body, told her she was encased in plaster +now, but by and by she would be released, and now she was to be very +quiet and try to sleep. And then she smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the +white quilt, shut out the sunlight, and, smiling kindly back at her, +left Omassa, who obediently fell asleep--partly because her life was one +of obedience, and partly because there was nothing else to do. + +And then began the acquaintance between Mrs. Helen Holmes, nurse, and +Omassa, Japanese acrobat. The other nurses teased Helen Holmes about +her pet patient, saying she was only a commonplace, Japanese child +woman; but Mrs. Holmes would exclaim, "If you could only see her light +up and glow!" + +And so they came to calling Omassa "the lantern," and would jestingly +ask "when she was going to be lighted up"; but there came a time when +Mrs. Holmes knew the magic word that would light the flame and make the +lantern glow, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire; like opal and +tourmaline. + +The child suffered long and terribly; both arms were broken, and in +several places, also her little finger, a number of ribs, her +collar-bone, and one leg, while cuts were simply not counted. During her +fever-haunted nights she babbled Japanese for hours, with one single +English name appearing and reappearing almost continually,--the name of +Frank; and when she called that name it was like the cooing of a pigeon, +and the down-drooping corners of her grave mouth curled upward into +smiles. She spoke English surprisingly well, as the other members of the +troupe only knew a very little broken English; and had she not placed +the emphasis on the wrong syllable, her speech, would have been almost +perfect. + +Generally she was silent and sad and unsmiling, but grateful, +passionately grateful to her "nurse-lady," as she called Mrs. Holmes; +yet when, that kind woman stooped to kiss her once, Omassa shrank from +the caress with such repugnance as deeply to wound her, until the +little Japanese had explained to her the national abhorrence of kissing, +assuring her over and over again that even "the Japan ma'ma not kiss +little wee baby she love." + +Mrs. Holmes ceased to wonder at the girl's sadness when she found she +was absolutely alone in the world: no father, no mother; no, no sister, +no brother, "no what you call c-cousine?--no nothing, nobody have I got +what belong to me," she said. + +One morning, as her sick-room toilet was completed, Mrs. Holmes said +lightly:-- + +"Omassa, who is Frank?" and then fairly jumped at the change in the +ivory-tinted, expressionless face. Her long, narrow eyes glowed, a pink +stain came on either cheek, she raised herself a little on her best arm, +eagerly she cried, "You know him--oh, you know Frank?" + +Regretfully Mrs. Holmes answered, "No, dear, I don't know him." + +"But," persisted Omassa, "you know him, or how could you speak his +name?" + +"I learned the name from you, child, when you talked in the fever. I am +very sorry I have caused you a disappointment. I am to blame for my +curiosity--forgive me." + +All the light faded from her face and very quietly she lay down upon her +pillow, her lips close-pressed, her eyes closed; but she could not hide +the shining of the tears that squeezed between her short, thick lashes +and clung to them. 'Twas long before his name was mentioned again; but +one day something had been said of friends, when Omassa with intense +pride had exclaimed:--"I have got my own self one friend--he--my friend +Frank." + +"What's his other name?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he very poor, he got only one name." + +"But, dear, he must have another name, he is Frank somebody or +something." + +"No! no!" persisted Omassa with gentle obstinacy, "he tell me always +true, he very poor, good man--he got only one name, my Frank Sen." + +"There," cried Mrs. Holmes, triumphantly, "you see he _has_ two names +after all, you have just called him by them both--Frank Sen." + +At which the invalid sent forth a tinkling laugh of amusement, crying: +"Oh, that not one man's name, oh, no! That Sen that like your Mr.--Mrs.; +you nurse-lady, you Holmes Sen. Ito--big Japan fight man, he Ito Sen, +you unnerstand me, nurse-lady?" + +"Yes, child, I understand. Sen is a title, a term of respect, and you +like to show your friend Frank all the honour you can, so you call him +Frank Sen." + +And Omassa with unconscious slanginess gravely answered: "You right _on_ +to it at first try. My boss" (her manager Kimoto) "find _me_ baby in +Japan, with very bad old man. He gamble all time. I not know why he have +me, he not my old man, but he sell me for seven year to Kimoto, and +Kimoto teach me jump, turn, twist, climb, and he send my money all to +old man--_all_. We go Mexico--South America--many Islands--to German +land, and long time here in this most big America--and the world so +big--and then I so little Japan baby--I no play--I no sing--I know +nothing what to do--and just _one_ person in this big lonesome_ness_ +make a kindness to me--my Frank Sen--just one man--just one woman in all +world make goodness to me--my Frank Sen and my nurse-lady," and she +stroked with reverent little fingers the white hand resting on the bed +beside her. + +"What was he like, your Frank?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he one big large American man--he not laugh many times loud, but he +laugh in he blue eye. He got brown mustache and he hair all short, +thick, wavy--like puppy dog's back. He poor--he not perform in circus, +oh, no! He work for put up tents, for wagon, for horses. He ver good man +for fight too--he smash man that hurt horse--he smash man that kick dog +or push me, Japan baby. Oh, he best man in all the world" (the exquisite +Madame Butterfly was not known yet, so Omassa was not quoting). "He tell +me I shall not say some words, 'damn' and 'hell' and others more long, +more bad, and he tell me all about that 'hell' and where is--and how you +get in for steal, for lie, for hurt things not so big as you--and how +you can't get out again where there is cool place for change--and he +smooth my hair and pat my shoulder, for he know Japan people don't ever +be kissed--and he call me one word I cannot know." + +She shook her head regretfully. "He call me 'poor little wave'--why poor +little wave--wave that mean water?" she sighed. "I can't know why Frank +Sen call me that." + +But quick-witted Mrs. Holmes guessed the word had been "waif"--poor +little waif, and she began dimly to comprehend the big-hearted, rough +tent-man, who had tried to guard this little foreign maid from the +ignorance and evil about her. + +"But," resumed Omassa, with perfect conviction, "Frank Sen meaned +goodness for me when he called me 'wave'--I know _that_. What you think +that big American man do for help me little Japan baby--with no sense? +Well, I will tell you. When daylight circus-show over, he take me by +hand and lead me to shady place between tents--he sit down--put me at he +knee, and in what you call primer-book with he long brown finger he +point out and make me know all those big fat letters--yes, he do _that_. +Other mens make of him fun--and he only laugh; but when they say he my +father and say of me names, he lay down primer and fight. When he lay +out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more +letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know _all_, and +_then_ he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, +and so it come that one day next week was going to be his +fête-day,--what you call birsday,--and I make very big large secret." + +She lifted herself excitedly in bed, her glowing eyes were on her +nurse's face, her lips trembled, the "lantern" was alight and glowing +radiantly. + +"What you think I do for my Frank Sen's birsday? I have never one +penny,--I cannot buy,--but I make one big great try. I go to +circus-lady, that ride horse and jump hoops--she read like Frank Sen. I +ask her show me some right letters. Oh, I work hard--for I am very +stupid Japan child; but when that day come, Frank Sen he lead me to +shady place--he open primer--then," her whole face was quivering with +fun at the recollection, "then I take he long finger off--I put _my_ +finger and I slow spell--not cat--not dog--oh, _what_ you think?--I +spell F-r-a-n-k--Frank! He look to me, and then he make a big jump--he +catch me--toss me, high up in air, and he shout big glad shout, and then +I say--'cause for your birsday.' He stop, he put me down, and he eyes +come wet, and he take my hand and he say: 'Thank you, that's the only +birsday gift I ever _re_ceived that was not from my mother. Spell it +again for me,' he said; and then he was very proud and said, 'there was +not any-other birsday gift like that in all the world!' What you think +of _that_? + +"Then the end to season of circus come--Frank Sen he kneel down by +me--he very sad--he say, 'I have nothing to give--I am such a fool--and +the green-cloth--oh, the curse of the green-cloth!' He took off my Japan +slippers and smiled at them and said, 'Poor little feet'; he stroked my +hands and said, 'Poor little hands'; he lifted up my face and said, +'Poor little wave'; then he look up in air and he say, very +troubled-like, 'A few home memories--some small knowledge, all I had, I +have given her. To read a little is not much, but maybe it may help her +some day, and I have nothing more to give!' + +"And I feeling something grow very fast, here and here" (touching throat +and breast), "and I say, '_You_ have nothing to give me? well'--and then +I forget all about I am little Japan girl, and I cry, 'Well, _I_ have +something to give you, Frank Sen, and that is one kiss!' And I put my +arms about he neck and make one big large kiss right on he kind lips." + +Her chin sank upon her night-robed breast. After a moment she smiled +deprecatingly at Mrs. Holmes and whispered: "You forgive me, other day? +You see I Japan girl--and just once I give big American kiss to my +friend, Frank Sen." + + + + +_CHAPTER XXI + +STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR_ + + +It was during the rehearsals of "L'Article 47" that I enjoyed one single +hearty laugh,--a statement that goes far to show my distressed state of +mind,--for generally speaking that is an unusual day which does not +bring along with its worry, work, and pain some bubble of healing +laughter. It was a joke of Mr. Le Moyne's own special brand that found +favour in my eyes and a place in my memory. Any one who has ever served +under Mr. Daly can recall the astounding list of rules printed in fine +type all over the backs of his contracts. The rules touching on +_forfeits_ seemed endless: "For being late," "For a stage wait," "For +lack of courtesy," "For gossiping," "For wounding a companion's +feelings"--each had its separate forfeiture. "For addressing the manager +on business outside of his office," I remember, was considered worth one +dollar for a first offence and more for a second. Most of these rules +ended with, "Or discharge at the option of the manager." But it was well +known that the mortal offence was the breaking that rule whose very +first forfeit was five dollars, "Or discharge at the option of," etc., +that rule forbidding the giving to outsiders of any stage information +whatever; touching the plays in rehearsal, their names, scenes, length, +strength, or story; and to all these many rules on the backs of our +contracts we assented and subscribed our amused or amazed selves. + +When the new French play "L'Article 47" was announced, the title aroused +any amount of curiosity. A reporter after a matinee one day followed me +up the avenue, trying hard to get me to explain its meaning; but I was +anxious not to be "discharged at the option of the manager," and +declined to explain. Many of the company received notes asking the +meaning of the title. At Mr. Le Moyne's house there boarded a walking +interrogation-point of a woman. She wished to know what "L'Article 47" +meant; she would know. She tried Mr. Harkins; Mr. Harkins said he didn't +know. She tossed her head and tried Mr. Crisp; Mr. Crisp patiently and +elaborately explained just why he could not give any information. She +implied that he did not know a lady when he saw one, and fell upon Mr. +Le Moyne, tired, hungry, suavely sardonic. "_He_ was," she assured him, +"a gentleman of the old school. _He_ would know how to receive a lady's +request and honour it." And Le Moyne rose to the occasion. A large +benevolence sat upon his brow, as assuring her that, though he ran the +risk of discharge for her fair sake, yet should she have her will. He +asked if she had ever seen a Daly contract. The bridling, simpering +idiot replied, "She had seen several, and such numbers of silly rules +she had never seen before, and--" + +"That's it," blandly broke in Le Moyne, "there's the explanation of the +whole thing--see? 'L' Article 47' is a five-act dramatization of the +47th rule of Daly's contract." + +"Did you ever?" gasped the woman. + +"No," said Le Moyne, reaching for bread, "I never did; but Daly's up to +anything, and he'd discharge me like a shot if he should ever hear of +this." + +It was almost impossible to get Mr. Daly to laugh at an actor's joke; he +was too generally at war with them, and he was too often the object of +the jest. But he did laugh once at one of the solemn frauds perpetrated +on me by this same Le Moyne. + +On the one hundred and twenty-fifth performance of "Divorce" I had +"stuck dead," as the saying is. Not a word could I find of my speech. I +was cold--hot--cold again. I clutched Mrs. Gilbert's hand. I whispered +frantically: "What is it? Oh! what is the word?" But horror on horror, +in my fall I had dragged her down with me. She, too, was +bewildered--lost. "I don't know," she murmured. There we were, all at +sea. After an awful wait I walked over and asked Captain Lynde (Louis +James) to come on, and the scene continued from that point. I was +angry--shamed. I had never stuck in all my life before, not even in my +little girl days. Mr. Daly was, of course, in front. He came rushing +back to inquire, to scold. Every one joked me about my probable +five-dollar forfeit. Well, next night came, and at that exact line I did +it again. Of course that was an expression of worn-out nerves; but it +was humiliating in the extreme. Mr. Daly, it happened, was attending an +opening elsewhere, and did not witness my second fall from grace. Then +came Le Moyne to me--big and grave and kind, his plump face with the +shiny spots on the cheek-bones fairly exuding sympathetic commiseration. +He led me aside, he lowered his voice, he addressed me gently:-- + +[Illustration: _W.J. Le Moyne_] + +"You stuck again, didn't you, Clara? Too bad! too bad! and of course you +apprehend trouble with Daly? I'm awfully sorry. Ten dollars is such a +haul on one week's salary. But see here, I've got an idea that will help +you out, if you care to listen to it." + +I looked hard at him, but the wretch had a front of brass; his +benevolence was touching. I said eagerly: "Yes, I do care indeed to +listen. What is the idea?" + +He beamed with affectionate interest, as he said impressively, "Well, +now you know that a bad 'stick' generally costs five dollars in this +theatre?" + +"Yes," I groaned. + +"And you stuck awfully last night?" + +"Yes," I admitted. + +"Then to-night you go and repeat the offence. But here is where I see +hope for you. Daly is not here; he does not know yet what you have done. +Watch then for his coming. This play is so long he will be here before +it's over. Go to his private office at once. Get ahead of every one +else; do you understand? Approach him affably and frankly. Tell him +yourself that you have unfortunately stuck again, and then offer him +_the two 'sticks' for eight dollars_. If he's a gentleman and not a Jew, +he'll accept your proposal." + +Just what remarks I made to my sympathetic friend Le Moyne at the end of +that speech I cannot now recall. If any one else can, I can only say I +was not a church member then, and let it pass at that. But when I opened +my envelope next salary day and saw my full week's earnings there, I +went to Mr. Daly's office and told him of my two "sticks" and of Le +Moyne's proposed offer, and for once he laughed at an actor's joke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XXII + +POOR SEMANTHA_ + + +It has happened to every one of us, I don't know why, but every mother's +son or daughter of us can look back to the time when we habitually +referred to some acquaintance or friend as "poor So-and-So"; and the +curious part of it is that if one pauses to consider the why or +wherefore of such naming, one is almost sure to find that, financially +at least, "poor So-and-So" is better off than the person who is doing +the "pooring." Nor is "poor So-and-So" always sick or sorrowful, stupid +or ugly; and yet, low be it whispered, is there not always a trace of +contempt in that word "poor" when applied to an acquaintance? A very +slight trace, of course,--we lightly rub the dish with garlic, we do not +slice it into our salad. So when we call a friend "poor So-and-So," +consciously or unconsciously, there is beneath all our affection the +slight garlic touch of contemptuous pity; how else could I, right to her +merry, laughing face, have called this girl poor Semantha? + +I had at first no cause to notice her especially; she was poor, so was +I; she was in the ballet, so was I. True, I had already had heads nodded +sagely in my direction, and had heard voices solemnly murmur, "That +girl's going to do something yet," and all because I had gone on alone +and spoken a few lines loudly and clearly, and had gone off again, +without leaving the audience impressed with the idea that they had +witnessed the last agonized and dying breath of a girl killed by fright. +I had that much advantage, but we both drew the same amount of salary +per week,--five very torn and very dirty one-dollar bills. Of course +there could have been no rule nor reason for it, but it had so happened +that all the young women of the ballet--there were four--received their +salary in one-dollar bills. However, I was saying that we, the ballet, +dressed together at that time, and poor Semantha first attracted my +attention by her almost too great willingness to use my toilet soap, +instead of the common brown washing soap she had brought with her. At +some past time this soap must have been of the shape and size of a +building brick, but now it resembled a small dumb-bell, so worn was its +middle, so nobby its ends. Then, too, my pins were, to all intents and +purposes, her pins; my hair-pins her hair-pins; while worst of all, my +precious, real-for-true French rouge was _her_ rouge. + +At that point I came near speaking, because poor Semantha was not +artistic in her make-up, and she painted not only her cheeks but her +eyes, her temples, her jaws, and quite a good sample of each side of +her neck. But just as I would be about to speak, I would bethink me of +those nights when, in the interest of art, I had to be hooked up behind, +and I would hold my peace. + +On the artistic occasions alluded to, I hooked Semantha up the back, and +then Semantha hooked up my back. Ah, what a comfort was that girl; as a +hooker-up of waists she was perfection. No taking hold of the two sides +of the waist, planting the feet firmly, and taking a huge breath, as if +the Vendôme column was about to be overthrown. No hooking of two-thirds +of the hooks and eyes, and then suddenly unhooking them, remarking that +there was a little mistake at the top hook. No putting of thumbs to the +mouth to relieve the awful numbness caused by terrible effort and +pinching. Ah, no! Semantha smiled,--she generally did that,--turned you +swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, +fastened that, fluttered to the top, exactly matched the top hook to +the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift +smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your +back was a joy until the act was over. + +That was all I had known of Semantha. Probably it was all I ever should +have known had not a sharp attack of sickness kept me away from the +theatre for a time, during which absence Semantha made the discovery +which was to bring her nearer to me. + +Finding my dressing place but a barren waste of pine board, Semantha +with smiling readiness turned to the dressing place on her left for a +pin or two, and was stricken with amazement when the milder of her two +companions remarked in a grudgingly unwilling tone, "You may take a few +of my pins and hair-pins if you are sure to pay them back again." + +While she was simply stunned for a moment, when the other companion, +with that rare, straightforward brutality for which she became so +deservedly infamous later on, snorted angrily: "No, you don't! Don't you +touch anything of mine! You can't sponge on me as you do on Clara!" + +Now Semantha was a German, as we were apt to find out if ever she grew +excited over anything; and whenever she had a strange word used to her, +she would repeat that word several times, first to make sure she fully +understood its meaning, next to impress it upon her memory; so there she +stood staring at her dressing mate, and slowly, questioningly repeated, +"Spoonge? spoonge? w'at is that spoonge?" And received for answer, +"_What is_ it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," +continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; +that's what sponging is." + +Poor Semantha--astonished, insulted, frightened--turned her quivering +face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, my Fräulein +Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?" + +Then for the first time, and I honestly believe the last time in her +life, that other pretty blond, but woolly-brained, young woman rose to +the occasion--God bless her--and answered stoutly, "No, Clara never +thought you were stealing." + +So it happened that when I returned to work, and Semantha's excited and +very German welcome had been given, I noticed a change in her. When my +eyes met hers, instead of smiling instantly and broadly at me, her eyes +sank to the ground and her face flushed painfully. At last we were left +alone for a few moments. Quick as a flash, Semantha shut the door and +bolted it with the scissors. Then she faced me; but what a strange, new +Semantha it was! Her head was down, her eyes were down, her very body +seemed to droop. Never had I seen a human look so like a beaten dog. She +came quite close, both hands hanging heavily at her sides, and in a +low, hurried tone she began: "Clara, now Clara, now see, I've been usen +your soap--ach, it smells so goot!--nearly all der time!"--"Why," I +broke in, "you were welcome!" + +But she stopped me roughly with one word, "Wait," and then she went on. +"Und der pins--why, I can't no more count. Und der hair-pins, und der +paint," (her voice was rising now), "oh, der lofely soft pink paint! und +I used dem, I used 'em all. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem +all. You see, I be so green, fräulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, +I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, +und by Gott I didn't shteal!" + +I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, +"I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it." + +She looked me brightly in the eyes and answered: "You do? you _truly_ +know dat?" gave a great sigh, and added with a fervour I fear I +ill-appreciated, "Oh, I hope you vill go to heaven!" then quickly +qualified it, "dat is, dat I don't mean right avay, dis minute--only ven +you can't keep avay any longer!" + +Then she sprang to her dress hanging on the hook, and after struggling +among the roots of her pocket, found the opening, and with triumph +breathing from every feature of her face, she brought forth a small +white cube, and cried out, "Youst you look at dat!" + +I did; it seemed of a stony structure, white with a chill thin line of +pink wandering forlornly through or on it (I am sure nothing could go +through it); but the worst thing about it was the strange and evil smell +emanating from it. And this evil, white, hard thing had been purchased +from a pedler under the name of soap, fine shaving or toilet soap, and +now Semantha was delightedly offering it to me, to use every night, and +I with immense fervour promised I would use it, just as soon as my own +was gone; and I mentally registered a solemn vow that the shadow of my +soap should never grow less. + +I soon discovered that poor Semantha was very ambitious; yes, in spite +of her faint German accent and the amusing abundance of negatives in her +conversation, she was ambitious. One night we had been called on to "go +on" as peasants and sing a chorus and do a country dance, and poor +Semantha had sung so freely and danced so gracefully and gayly, that it +was a pleasure to look at her. She was such a contrast to the two +others. One had sung in a thin nasal tone, and the expression of her +face was enough to take all the dance out of one's feet. With frowning +brows and thin lips tightly compressed, she attacked the figures with +such fell determination to do them right or die, that one could hardly +help hoping she _would_ make a mistake and take the consequences. The +other,--the woolly-brained young person,--having absolutely no ear for +music or time, silently but vigorously worked her jaws through the +chorus, and affably ambled about, under everybody's feet, through the +dance, displaying all the stiff-kneed grace of a young, well-meaning +calf. + +When we were in our room, I told Semantha how well she had sung and +danced, and her face was radiant with delight. Then becoming very grave, +she said: "Oh, fräulein, how I vant to be an actor! Not a common van, +but" and she laid her hand with a childish gesture on her breast--"I +vant to be a big actor. Don' you tink I can ever be von--eh?" + +And looking into those bright, intelligent, squirrel-like eyes, I +answered, "I think it is very likely," Poor Semantha! we were to recall +those simple remarks, later on. + +Christmas being near, I was very busy working between acts upon +something intended for a present to my mother. This work was greatly +admired by all the girls; but never shall I forget the astonishment of +poor Semantha when she learned for whom it was intended. + +"Your mutter lets you love her yet--you would dare?" And as I only gazed +dumbly at her, she went on, while slow tears gathered in her eyes, "My +mutter hasn't let me love her since--since I vas big enough to be +knocked over." + +Through the talkativeness of an extra night-hand or scene-shifter, who +knew her family, I learned something of poor Semantha's private life. +Poor child! from the very first she had rested her bright brown eyes +upon the wrong side of life,--the seamy side,--and her own personal +share of the rough patchwork, composed of dismal drabs and sodden browns +and greens, had in it just one small patch of rich and brilliant +colour,--the theatre. Of the pure tints of sky and field and watery +waste and fruit and flower, she knew nothing. But what of that! had she +not secured this bit of rosy radiance, and might it not in time be added +to, until it should incarnadine the whole fabric of her life? + +Semantha's father was dead; her mother was living--worse luck. For had +she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and +reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to +support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she +lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present +rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young +tempers, a hardener of young hearts. Many a woman of quick, short temper +has a kind heart; while even the sullenly sulky woman generally has a +few rich, sweet drops of the milk of human kindness, which she is +willing to bestow upon her own immediate belongings. But Semantha's +mother was not of these. How, one might ask, had this wretch obtained +two good husbands? Yes, Semantha had a stepfather, and the only excuse +for the suicidal marriage act as performed by these two victims was that +the woman was well enough to look upon--a trim, bright-eyed, brown +creature with the mark of the beast well hidden from view. + +When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and +money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and +sullen, silent lips. When the child came home with empty hands, and gave +only cheerfully performed hard manual labour, she was received with +fierce eyes, cruel rankling words, and many a cut and heavy blow, and +was often thrust from the house itself, because 'twas known the girl was +afraid of darkness. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris before coming to Daly's Theatre in 1870_] + +Her stepfather then would secretly let her in, though sometimes she +dared go no farther than the shed, and there she would sit the whole +night through, in all the helpless agony of fright. But all this was as +nothing compared to the cruelty she had yet to meet out to poor +Semantha, whose greatest fault seemed to be her intense longing for some +one to love. Her mother _would not_ be loved, her own father had wisely +given the whole thing up, her step-father _dared_ not be loved. So, when +the second family began to materialize, Semantha's joy knew no bounds. +What a welcome she gave each newcomer! How she worked and walked and +cooed and sang and made herself an humble bond-maiden before them. And +they loved her and cried to her, and bit hard upon her needle stabbed +forefinger with their first wee, white, triumphant teeth, and for just a +little, little time poor Semantha was not poor, but very rich indeed. +And that strange creature, who had brought them all into the world, +looked on and saw the love and smiled a nasty smile; and Semantha saw +the smile, and her heart quaked, as well it might. For so soon as these +little men could stand firmly on their sturdy German legs, their gentle +mother taught them, deliberately taught them, to call their sister +names, the meaning being as naught to them, but enough to break a +sister's heart. To jeer at and disobey her, so that they became a pair +of burly little monsters, who laughed loud, affected laughter at the +word "love," and swore with many long-syllabled German oaths that they +would kick with their copper-toes any one who tried to kiss them. Ah! +when you find a fiercely violent temper allied to a stone-cold heart, +offer you up an earnest prayer to Him for the safety of the souls coming +under the dominion and the power of that woman. + +I recall one action of Semantha's that goes far, I think, to prove what +a brave and loyal heart the untaught German girl possessed. She was very +sensitive to ridicule, and when people made fun of her, though she would +laugh good-humouredly, many times she had to keep her eyes down to hide +the brimming tears. Now her stepfathers name was a funny one to American +ears, and always provoked a laugh, while her own family name was not +funny. Yet because the man had shown her a little timid kindness, she +faithfully bore his name, and through storms of jeering laughter, clear +to the dismal end, she called herself Semantha Waacker. + +Once we spoke of it, and she exclaimed in her excited way: "Yes, I am +alvays Waacker. Why not, ven he is so goot? Why, why, dat man, dat vater +Waacker, he have kissed me two time already. Vunce here" (placing her +finger on a vicious scar upon her check), "von de mutter cut me bad, und +vun odder time, ven I come very sick. Und de mutter seen him in de +glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a +little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out +de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before +everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha +Waacker." + +The unfortunate man's occupation was also something that provoked +laughter, when one first heard of it; but as Semantha herself was my +informant, and I had grown to care for her, I managed by a great effort +to keep my face serious. How deeply this fact impressed her, I was to +learn later on. + +Christmas had come, and I was in high glee. I had many gifts, simple and +inexpensive most of them, but they were perfectly satisfactory to me. My +dressing-room mates had remembered me, too, in the most characteristic +fashion. The pretty, woolly-brained girl had with smiling satisfaction +presented me with a curious structure of perforated cardboard and gilt +paper, intended to catch flies. Its fragility may be imagined from the +fact that it broke twice before I got it back into its box; still there +was, I am sure, not another girl in Cleveland who could have found for +sale a fly-trap at Christmas time. + +The straightforward one had presented me with an expensively repellent +gift in the form of a brown earthenware jug, a cross between a Mexican +idol and a pitcher. A hideous thing, calculated to frighten children or +sober drunken men. I know I should have nearly died of thirst before I +could have forced myself to swallow a drop of liquid coming from that +horrible interior. + +Semantha was nervous and silent, and the performance was well on before +she caught me alone, out in a dark passageway. Then she began as she +always did when excited, with: "Clara, now Clara, you know I told my +vater of you, for dat you were goot to me, und he say, vat he alvays +say--not'ing. Dat day I come tell you vat his work vas, I vent home und +I say, 'Vater Waacker, I told my fräulein you made your livin' in de +tombstone yard,' und he say, quvick like, 'Vell,'--you know my vater no +speak ver goot English" (Semantha's own English was weakening +fast),--"'vell, I s'pose she make some big fool laugh, den, like +everybodies, eh?' Und I say, 'No, she don't laugh! de lips curdle a +little'" (curdle was Semantha's own word for tremble or quiver. If she +shivered even with cold, she curdled with cold), "'but she don't laugh, +und she say, "It vas the best trade in de vorldt for you, 'cause it must +be satisfactions to you to work all day long on somebody's tombstone."'" + +"Oh, Semantha!" I cried, "why did you tell him that?" + +"But vy not?" asked the girl, innocently. "Und he look at me hard, und +his mouth curdle, und den he trow back his head und he laugh, pig +laughs, und stamp de feet und say over und over, 'Mein Gott! mein Gott! +satisfackshuns ter vurk on somebody's tombstones--_some_body's. Und she +don't laugh at my vurk, nieder, eh? Vell, vell! dat fräulein she tinks +sometings! Say, Semantha, don't it dat you like a Kriss-Krihgle present +to make to her, eh?' Und I say, dat very week, dere have to be new shoes +for all de kinder, und not vun penny vill be left. Und he shlap me my +back, une! say, 'Never mindt, I'll make him,' und so he did, und here +it is," thrusting some small object into my hand. "Und if you laugh, +fräulein, I tink I die, 'cause it is so mean und little." + +Then stooping her head, she pressed a kiss on my bare shoulder and +rushed headlong down the stairs, leaving me standing there in the dark +with "it" in my hand. Poor Semantha! "it" lies here now, after all these +years; but where are you, Semantha? Are you still dragging heavily +through life, or have you reached that happy shore, where hearts are +hungry never more, but filled with love divine? + +"It" is a little bit of white marble, highly polished and perfectly +carved to imitate a tiny Bible. A pretty toy it is to other eyes; but to +mine it is infinitely pathetic, and goes well with another toy in my +possession, a far older one, which cost a human life. + +Well, from that Christmas-tide Semantha was never quite herself again. +For a time she was extravagantly gay, laughing at everything or nothing. +Then she became curiously absent-minded. She would stop sometimes in the +midst of what she might be doing, and stand stock-still, with fixed +eyes, and thoughts evidently far enough away from her immediate +surroundings. Sometimes she left unfinished the remark she might be +making. Once I saw a big, hulking-looking fellow walking away from the +theatre door with her. The night was bad, too, but I noticed that she +carried her own bundle, while he slouched along with his hands in his +pocket, and I felt hurt and offended for her. + +And then one night Semantha was late, and we wondered greatly, since she +usually came very early, the theatre being the one bright spot in life +to her. We were quite dressed, and were saying how lucky it was there +was no dance to-night, or it would be spoiled, when she came in. Her +face was dreadful; even the straightforward one exclaimed in a shocked +tone, "You must be awful sick!" + +But Semantha turned her hot, dry-looking eyes upon her and answered +slowly and dully, "I'm not sick." + +"Not sick, with that white face and those poor curdling hands?" + +"I'm not sick, I'm going avay." + +Just then the act was called, and down the stairs we had to dash to take +our places. We wore pages' dresses, and as we went Semantha stood in the +doorway in her shabby street gown and followed us with wistful eyes--she +did so love a page's costume. + +When we were "off" we hastened back to our dressing room. Semantha was +still there. She moved stiffly about, packing together her few +belongings; but her manner silenced us. She had taken everything else, +when her eyes fell upon a remnant of that evil-smelling soap. She paused +a bit, then in that same slow way she said, "You never, never used that +soap after all, Clara?" and when I answered: "Oh, yes, I have. I've used +it several times," she put her hand out quickly, and took the thing, and +slipped it into her pocket, and then she stood a moment and looked +about; and if ever anguish grew in human eyes, it slowly grew in hers. +Her face was pale before; it was white now. + +At last her eyes met mine, then a sudden tremor crossed her face from +brow to chin, a piteous slow smile crept around her lips, and in that +dull and hopeless tone she said, "You see, my fräulein, I'll never be a +big actor after all," and turned her back upon me, and slowly left the +room and the theatre, without one kiss or handshake, even from me. And +I, who knew her, did not guess why. She went out of my life forever, +stepping down to that lower world of which I had only heard, but by +God's mercy did not know. + +That same sad night a group of men, close-guarded, travelled to +Columbus, that city of great prisons and asylums, and one of those +guarded men was poor Semantha's lover, alas! her convicted lover now; +and she, having cast from her her proudest hope, her high ambition, +trusting a little in his innocence, trusting entirely in his love, now +followed him steadily to the prison's very gate. + +After this came a long silence. One girl had fallen from our ranks, but +what of that? Another girl had taken her place. We were still four, +marching on,--eyes front, step firm and regular,--ready when the quick +order came quickly to obey. There could be no halt, no turning back to +the help of the figure already growing dim, of one who had fallen by the +wayside. + +After a time rumours came to us, at first faint and vague--uncertain, +then more distinct--more dreadful! And the stronger the rumours grew, +the lower were the voices with which we discussed them; since we were +young, and vice was strange to us, and we were being forced to believe +that she who had so recently been our companion was now--was--well, to +be brief, she wore her rouge in daylight now upon the public street. + +Poor, poor Semantha! They were playing "Hamlet," the night of the worst +and strongest rumour, and as I heard Ophelia assuring one of her noble +friends or relatives:-- + + "You may wear your rue with a difference," + +I could not help saying to myself that "rue" was not the only thing that +could be so treated, since we all had rouge upon our cheeks; yet +Semantha--ah, God forgive her--wore her rouge with a difference. + +A little longer and we were all in Columbus, where a portion of each +season was passed, our manager keeping his company there during the +sitting of the legislature. We had secured boarding-houses,--the memory +of mine will never die,--and in fact our round bodies were beginning to +fit themselves to the square holes they were expected to fill for the +next few weeks, when we found ourselves sneezing and coughing our way +through that spirit-crushing thing they call a "February thaw." +Rehearsal had been long, and I was tired. I had quite a distance to +walk, and my mind was full of professional woe. Here was I, a ballet +girl who had taken a cold whose proportions simply towered over that +nursed by the leading lady's self; and as I slipped and slid slushily +homeward, I asked myself angrily what a fairy was to do with a +handkerchief,--and in heaven's name, what was that fairy to do without +one. The dresses worn by fairies--theatrical, of course--in those days +would seem something like a fairy mother-hubbard now, at all events a +home toilet of some sort, so very proper were they; but even so there +was no provision made for handkerchiefs, no thought apparently that +stage fairies might have colds in their star-crowned heads. + +So as my wet skirt viciously slapped my icy ankles, I almost tearfully +declared to myself I would have to have a handkerchief, even though it +wore pinned to my wings, only who on earth could get it off in time for +me to use? Now if poor Semantha were only--and there I stopped, my eyes, +my mind, fixed upon a woman a little way ahead of me, who stood staring +in a window. Her figure drooped as though she were weary or very, very +sad, and I said to myself, "I don't know what you are looking at, but I +_do_ know it's something you want awfully," and just then she turned and +faced me. My heart gave a plunge against my side. I knew her. One +woman's glance, lightning-quick, mathematically true, and I had her +photograph--the last, the very last I ever took of poor Semantha. + +As her eyes met mine, they opened wide and bright. The rosy colour +flushed into her face, her lips smiled. She gave a little forward +movement, then before I had completed calling out her name, like a flash +she changed, her brows were knit, her lips close-pressed, and all her +face, save for the shameful red sign on her cheeks, was very white. I +stood quite still--not so, she. She walked stiffly by, till on the very +line with me she shot out one swift, sidelong glance and slightly shook +her head; yet as she passed I clearly heard that grievous sound that +coming from a woman's throat tells of a swallowed sob. + +Still I stood watching her as she moved away, regardless quite of watery +pool or deepest mud; she marched straight on and at the first corner +disappeared, but never turned her head. As she had left me first without +good-by, so she met me now without a greeting, and passed me by without +farewell. And I, who knew her, understood at last the reason why. Poor +wounded, loyal heart, who would deny herself a longed-for pleasure +rather than put the tiniest touch of shame upon so small a person as a +ballet girl whom one year ago she had so lovingly called friend. + +At last I turned to go. As I came to the window into which Semantha had +so lovingly been gazing, I looked in too, and saw a window full of fine, +thick underwear for men. + +Two crowded, busy years swept swiftly by before I heard once more, and +for the last time, of poor Semantha. I was again in Columbus for a short +time, and was boarding at the home of one of the prison wardens. +Whenever I could catch this man at home, I took pains to make him talk, +and he told me many interesting tales. They were scarcely of a nature to +be repeated to young children after they had gone to bed, that is, if +you wanted the children to stay in bed; but they were interesting, and +one day the talk was of odd names,--his own was funny,--and at last he +mentioned Semantha's. Of course I was alert, of course I questioned +him--how often I have wished I had not. For the tale he told was sad. +Nothing new, nay, it was common even; but so is "battle, murder, and +sudden death," from which, nevertheless, we pray each day to be +delivered. Ah! his tale was sad if common. + +It seemed that when Semantha followed that treacherous young brute, her +convicted lover, she had at first obtained a situation as a servant, so +she could not come to the prison every visiting day, and what was worse +in his eyes, she was most poorly paid, and had but very small sums to +spend upon extras for him. He grumbled loudly, and she was torn with +loving pity. Then quite suddenly she was stricken down with sickness, +and her precious brute had to do without her visits for a time and the +small comforts she provided for him, until one visiting day he fairly +broke down and roared with rage and grief over the absence of his +tobacco. + +The hospital sheltered Semantha as long as the rules permitted, but +when she left it she was weak and worn and homeless, and as she crept +slowly from place to place, a woman old and well-dressed spoke to her, +calling her Mamie Someone, and then apologized for her mistake. Next she +asked a question or two, and ended by telling Semantha she was the very +girl she wanted--to come with her. She could rest for a few days at her +home, and after that she should have steady employment and better pay, +and--oh! did I not tell you it was a common tale? + +But when on visiting day the child with frightened eyes told what she +had discovered about her new home, the soulless monster bade her stay +there, and every dollar made in her new accursed trade was lavished upon +him. + +By a little sickness and a great deal of fraud the wretch got himself +into the prison hospital for a time, and there my informant learned to +know the pair quite well. She not only loved him passionately, but she +had for all his faults of selfishness and general ugliness the tender +patience of a mother. And he traded upon her loving pity by pretending +he could obtain the privilege of this or immunity from that if he had +only so many dollars to give to the guard or keeper. And she, poor +loving fool, hastened a few steps farther down the road of shame to +obtain for him the money, receiving in return perhaps a rough caress or +two that brought the sunshine to her heart and joy into her eyes. + +His term of imprisonment was nearly over, and Semantha was preparing for +his coming freedom. His demands seemed unending. His hat would be +old-fashioned, and his boots and his undergarments were old, etc. Then +he wanted her to have two tickets for Bellefontaine ready, that they +might leave Columbus at once, and Semantha was excited and worried. "One +day," said the warden, "she asked to see me for a moment, and I +exclaimed at sight of her, 'What is it that's happened?' + +"Her face was fairly radiant with joy, and she shook all over. It seemed +as though she could not speak at first, and then she burst forth, 'Mr. +S----, now Mr. S----, you don't much like my poor boy, but joust tink +now how goot he is! Ach, Gott, he tells me ven all der tings are got, +und de tickets too, have I some money left I shall buy a ring, und +then,'--she clutched my arm with both her hands, and dropped her head +forward on them, as she continued in a stifled voice,--und then we go to +a minister and straight we get married.' + +"And," continued Mr. S----, "as I looked at her I caught myself wishing +she were dead, that she might escape the misery awaiting her. + +"At last the day came. Her lover and a pal of his went out together. +Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not pleased at the pal's +presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to +the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new +finery, but insisted upon going with his friend. Semantha yielded, of +course, and on the way her lover laughed and jested--asked for the +tickets, then the ring, and putting on the latter declared that he was +married to _her_ now, and would wear the ring until they saw the +'Bible-sharp,' and then she should be married to _him_; and Semantha +brightened up again and was happy. + +"They came at last to the house they sought. It was a low kind of +neighbourhood, had a deserted look, and was next door to a saloon. The +pal said there were no women in the house, and Semantha had better not +come in. The lover bade her wait, and they went in and closed the door, +and left the girl outside. There she waited such a weary time, then at +last she rang--quite timidly at first, then louder, faster, too, and a +scowling fellow from the saloon told her that the house was empty. She +rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman. Then she ceased, but +walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable +yard. She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her +heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a +good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew +Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with +yer feller and his pal?' + +"'She didn't say nary a word,' said the boy, 'she didn't say nary a +word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same +as a cat's, and I says: "Why, I seed 'em ketch the 4.30 train to +Bellefontaine! They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn't scare +a darn, they just laughed and laughed." And, Boss, something like a +tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up +to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still +as still after that doglike tremble went away. I got muddled, and at +last I says, "Semantha, hav' yer got no sponds?" She didn't seem to see +me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, "Say, Semantha! +where yer goin' to? what yer goin' ter do now?" and, Boss, she done the +toughest thing I ever seen. She jes' slowly lifted up her hands and +looked at 'em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and +then jes' as slow she turns 'em over, they were bare and empty, and the +palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves 'em a +bit, and then without raisin' up her eyes, she jes' smiles a little +slow, slow smile. + +"'And then she turned 'round and walked away without nary a word at all; +but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and +she dragged her feet along jes' like an old, old woman, what was too +tired to live. I was skeered like, and thought I'd come here and tell +you, but I looked back to watch her. 'Twas almost dark then, and when +she came to the crossin', the wind was blowin' so she could hardly +stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she +looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to +the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther' +anything there; but ther' wasn't nothin' but them dirty, low-hangin' +clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome. And then right of a suddent +she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together. +It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty +hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, "My God, it is +too much! I cannot, cannot bear it!" Then she draw'd herself up quite +tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could +carry her straight toward the river.'" + +And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor +Semantha. I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more +effectually by remarking:-- + +"Yes, she was a bright, promising, true-hearted girl; but you see she +went wrong, and the sinner has to pay both here and hereafter." + +"Don't," I hotly cried. "Don't go on! don't! Sin? sin? Don't hurl that +word at her, the embodiment of self-sacrifice! Sin? where there is no +law, there can be no sin. And who had taught her anything? She was a +heathen. So far as one person can be the cause of another person's +wrong-doing, so far was Semantha's mother the guilty cause of Semantha's +loving fall. She was a heathen. She had been taught just one law--that +she was always to serve other people. That law she truly kept unto the +end. Of that great book, the Bible, closely packed with all sustaining +promises, she knew naught. I tell you the only Bible she ever held +within her hand was that mimic one of marble her father carved for me. +She was a heathen. Of that all-enduring One--'chief among ten thousand +and altogether lovely,' for whom there was no thing too small to love, +no sin too great to pardon--she knew nothing. Even that woman who with +wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, +yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and +true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its +necessity, nor its power. + +"Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her. God +placed her; and if she fell by the wayside in ignorance, she _did not_ +fall from the knowledge of her Maker." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + +***** This file should be named 13277-8.txt or 13277-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/7/13277/ + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Stage Confidences + +Author: Clara Morris + +Release Date: August 25, 2004 [EBook #13277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + + + + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +[Transcriber's note: Unfortunately high quality illustrations weren't available + for this html version.]<br /> +<br /> +<a name='Clara_Morris'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris (1883)</i>]<br /><br /> + +<!-- Page 1 --><a name='Page_1'></a> +<h1><i>STAGE CONFIDENCES</i></h1><br /> + +<h3>TALKS ABOUT PLAYERS AND PLAY ACTING</h3><br /> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CLARA MORRIS</h2> +<br /> + +<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3> + +<h3>"LIFE ON THE STAGE," +"THE PASTEBOARD CROWN," ETC.</h3> +<br /> + +<h3><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></h3> + +<h3>LONDON +CHARLES H. KELLY</h3> + +<h3>1902</h3> +<!-- Page 2 --><a name='Page_2'></a> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<br /> +<!-- Page 3 --><a name='Page_3'></a> +<h3><i>To</i></h3> +<h2><i>MARY ANDERSON</i></h2><br /> + +<h3><i>"THE FAIR</i><br /> +<i>THE CHASTE</i><br /> +<i>THE UNEXPRESSIVE SHE"</i></h3><br /> + +<br /> + +<!-- Page 4 --><a name='Page_4'></a> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='GREETING'></a><h2><!-- Page 5 --><a name='Page_5'></a><i>GREETING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p><i>To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their +confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition.</i></p> + +<p><i>Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage +over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can +answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred "tiffs" of angry +disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer +that turneth away the wrath of one.</i></p> + +<p><i>Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your +addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are +grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, +very foolish,—yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, +very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who +write to her,—no more can I, and that<!-- Page 6 --><a name='Page_6'></a> disturbs me, because I like +girls and I hate to disappoint them.</i></p> + +<p><i>But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my +friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of +warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my +assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to +laughter with the absurdities,—that are so funny in their telling, +though so painful in their happening.</i></p> + +<p><i>Clara Morris.</i></p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CONTENTS'></a><h2><!-- Page 7 --><a name='Page_7'></a><i>CONTENTS</i></h2> + + + <a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>I. A WORD OF WARNING</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>II. THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>III. IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>IV. "MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>V. THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>VI. "ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>VII. A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>VIII. THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>IX. "ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>X. J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>XI. STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>XII. THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>XIII. THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>XIV. THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>XV. SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'><b>XVI. THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'><b>XVII. A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'><b>XVIII. A BELATED WEDDING</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'><b>XIX. SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XX'><b>XX. FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'><b>XXI. STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'><b>XXII. POOR SEMANTHA</b></a><br /><br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='ILLUSTRATIONS'></a><h2><!-- Page 9 --><a name='Page_9'></a><i>ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h2> + + + + <a href='#Clara_Morris'>CLARA MORRIS (1883)</a><br /> + <a href='#Article_47'>CLARA MORRIS IN "L' ARTICLE 47"</a><br /> + <a href='#Charles_Matthews'>CHARLES MATTHEWS</a><br /> + <a href='#Alixe'>CLARA MORRIS IN "ALIXE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Miss_Multon'>CLARA MORRIS AS "MISS MULTON"</a><br /> + <a href='#Odette'>CLARA MORRIS AS "ODETTE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Mrs._Gilbert'>MRS. GILBERT, AUGUSTIN DALY, JAMES LEWIS, AND LOUIS JAMES</a><br /> + <a href='#Owens'>JOHN E. OWENS</a><br /> + <a href='#Little_breeches'>"LITTLE BREECHES"</a><br /> + <a href='#Jane_Eyre'>CLARA MORRIS AS "JANE EYRE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Sphinx'>CLARA MORRIS IN "THE SPHINX"</a><br /> + <a href='#Evadne'>CLARA MORRIS IN "EVADNE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Camille'>CLARA MORRIS AS "CAMILLE"</a><br /> + <a href='#Salvini'>TOMMASO SALVINI</a><br /> + <a href='#Le_Moyne'>W.J. LE MOYNE</a><br /> + <a href='#Clara_1870'>CLARA MORRIS BEFORE COMING TO DALY'S THEATRE IN 1870</a><br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h2><!-- Page 11 --><a name='Page_11'></a><!-- Page 10 --><a name='Page_10'></a><i>CHAPTER I +<br /><br /> +A WORD OF WARNING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Every actress of prominence receives letters from young girls and women +who wish to go on the stage, and I have my share. These letters are of +all kinds. Some are extravagant, some enthusiastic, some foolish, and a +few unutterably pathetic; but however their writers may differ +otherwise, there is one positive conviction they unconsciously share, +and there is one question they each and every one put to me: so it is +<i>that</i> question that must be first answered, and that conviction that +must be shaken.</p> + +<p>The question is, "What chance has a girl in private life of getting on +the stage?"<!-- Page 12 --><a name='Page_12'></a> and to reply at once with brutal truthfulness and straight +to the point, I must say, "Almost none."</p> + +<p>But to answer her instant "Why?" I must first shake that positive +conviction each writer has, that she is the only one that burns with the +high ambition to be an actress, who hopes and fears, and secretly +studies Juliet. It would be difficult to convince her that her own +state, her own city, yes, her own block, could each produce a girl who +firmly believes that <i>her</i> talent is equally great, and who has just the +same strength of hope for the future stage existence.</p> + +<p>Every city in the country is freely sprinkled with stage-loving, or, as +they are generally termed, "stage-struck" girls. It is more than +probable that at least a half-dozen girls in her own circle secretly +cherish a hope for a glorious career on the stage, while her bosom +friend most likely knows every line of <i>Pauline</i> and has prac<!-- Page 13 --><a name='Page_13'></a>tised the +death scene of <i>Camille</i> hundreds of times. Surely, then, the would-be +actresses can see that their own numbers constitute one of the greatest +obstacles in their path.</p> + +<p>But that is by no means all. Figures are always hard things to manage, +and there is another large body of them, between a girl and her chances, +in the number of trained actresses who are out of engagements. There is +probably no profession in the world so overcrowded as is the profession +of acting. "Why, then," the manager asks, "should I engage a girl who +does not even know how to walk across the stage, when there are so many +trained girls and women to choose from?"</p> + +<p>"But," says or thinks some girl who reads these words, "you were an +outsider, poor and without friends, yet you got your chance."</p> + +<p>Very true; I did. But conditions then were different. The stage did not +hold <!-- Page 14 --><a name='Page_14'></a>then the place in public estimation which it now does. Theatrical +people were little known and even less understood. Even the people who +did not think all actors drunkards and all actresses immoral, did think +they were a lot of flighty, silly buffoons, not to be taken seriously +for a moment. The profession, by reason of this feeling, was rather a +close corporation. The recruits were generally young relatives of the +older actors. There was plenty of room, and people began at the bottom +quite cheerfully and worked up. When a "ballet" was wanted, the manager +advertised for extra girls, and sometimes received as many as three +applicants in one day—when twenty were wanted. Such an advertisement +to-day would call out a veritable mob of eager girls and women. <i>There</i> +was my chance. To-day I should have no chance at all.</p> + +<p>The theatrical ranks were already growing crowded when the "Schools of +Acting" were started, and after that—goodness <!-- Page 15 --><a name='Page_15'></a>gracious! actors and +actresses started up as suddenly and numerously as mushrooms in an old +pasture. And they, even <i>they</i> stand in the way of the beginner.</p> + +<p>I know, then, of but three powers that can open the stage door to a girl +who comes straight from private life,—a fortune, great influence, or +superlative beauty. With a large amount of money a girl can +unquestionably tempt a manager whose business is not too good, to give +her an engagement. If influence is used, it must indeed be of a high +social order to be strong enough favourably to affect the box-office +receipts, and thus win an opening for the young débutante. As for +beauty, it must be something very remarkable that will on its strength +alone secure a girl an engagement. Mere prettiness will not do. Nearly +all American girls are pretty. It must be a radiant and compelling +beauty, and every one knows that there are not many such beauties, +stage-struck or otherwise.</p> +<!-- Page 16 --><a name='Page_16'></a> +<p>The next question is most often put by the parents or friends of the +would-be actress; and when with clasped hands and in-drawn breath they +ask about the temptations peculiar to the profession of acting, all my +share of the "old Adam" rises within me. For you see I honour the +profession in which I have served, girl and woman, so many years, and it +hurts me to have one imply that it is filled with strange and terrible +pitfalls for women. I have received the confidences of many +working-women,—some in professions, some in trades, and some in +service,—and on these confidences I have founded my belief that every +woman who works for her living must eat with her bread the bitter salt +of insult. Not even the plain girl escapes paying this penalty put upon +her unprotected state.</p> + +<p>Still, insult does not mean temptation, by any means. But careful +inquiry has shown me that temptation assails working-women in any walk +of life, and that the profession<!-- Page 17 --><a name='Page_17'></a> of acting has nothing weird or novel to +offer in the line of danger; to be quite frank, all the possibilities of +resisting or yielding lie with the young woman herself. What will tempt +one beyond her powers of resistance, will be no temptation at all to +another.</p> + +<p>However, parents wishing to frighten their daughters away from the stage +have naturally enough set up several great bugaboos collectively known +as "temptations"—individually known as the "manager," the "public," +etc.</p> + +<p>There seems to be a general belief that a manager is a sort of dramatic +"Moloch," upon whose altar is sacrificed all ambitious femininity. In +declaring that to be a mistaken idea, I do not for a moment imply that +managers are angels; for such a suggestion would beyond a doubt secure +me a quiet summer at some strictly private sanitarium; but I do mean to +say that, like the gentleman whom we all know by <!-- Page 18 --><a name='Page_18'></a>hearsay, but not by +sight, they are not so black as they are painted.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the manager is more often the pursued than the pursuer. Women +there are, attractive, well-looking, well-dressed, some of whom, alas! +in their determination to succeed, cast morality overboard, as an +aeronaut casts over ballast, that they may rise more quickly. Now while +these women bestow their adulation and delicate flattery upon the +manager, he is not likely to disturb the modest and retiring newcomer in +his company by unwelcome attentions. And should the young stranger prove +earnest and bright, she would be doubly safe; for then she would have +for the manager a commercial value, and he would be the last man to hurt +or anger her by a too warmly expressed admiration, and so drive her into +another theatre, taking all her possible future popularity and drawing +power with her.</p> + +<p>One other and better word I wish to add. If the unprotected young +beginner finds her<!-- Page 19 --><a name='Page_19'></a>self the victim of some odious creature's persistent +advances, letters, etc., let her not fret and weep and worry, but let +her go quietly to her manager and lay her trouble before him, and, my +word for it, he will find a way of freeing her from her tormentor. Yes, +the manager is, generally speaking, a kindly, cheery, sharp business +man, and no Moloch at all.</p> + +<p>As for the "public," no self-respecting girl need be in danger from the +"public." Admiring young rakes no longer have coaches waiting round the +corner, into which they thrust their favourite actress as she leaves the +theatre. If a man sends an actress extravagant letters or flowers, +anonymously, she can of course do nothing, but equally of course she +will not wear his flowers and so encourage him boldly to step up and +speak to her some day. If the gentleman sends her jewellery or valuable +gifts of any kind, rest assured his name will accompany the offering; +then the actress has but <!-- Page 20 --><a name='Page_20'></a>one thing to do, send the object back at once. +If the infatuated one is a gentleman and worthy of her notice, he will +surely find a perfectly correct and honourable way of making her +acquaintance, otherwise she is well rid of him. No, I see no danger +threatening a young actress from the "public."</p> + +<p>There is danger in drifting at any time, so it may be well to warn young +actresses against drifting into a too strong friendship. No matter how +handsome or clever a man may be, if he approaches a modest girl with +coarse familiarity, with brutalities on his lips, she is shocked, +repelled, certainly not tempted. But let us say that the young actress +feels rather strange and uncomfortable in her surroundings, that she is +only on a smiling "good morning and good evening" footing with the +company, and she has been promised a certain small part, and then at the +last moment the part is given to some one else. The disappointment is +cruel, and the suspicion that people are laughing in <!-- Page 21 --><a name='Page_21'></a>their sleeves over +the slight put upon her makes her feel sick and faint with shame, and +just then a friendly hand places a chair for her and a kind voice says: +"I'm awfully sorry you missed that chance, for I'm quite sure you would +do the part far and away better than that milliner's block will. But +don't distress yourself, your chance will come, and you will know how to +make the most of it—I am sure."</p> + +<p>And all the time the plain, perhaps the elderly man is speaking, he is +shielding her from the eyes of the other people, and from her very soul +she is grateful to him, and she holds up her head and smiles bravely.</p> + +<p>Not long after, perhaps, she does get a chance, and with joyous eyes she +watches for the coming of the man who comforted her, that she may tell +him of her good luck. And his pleasure is plain, and he assures her that +she will succeed. And he, an experienced actor, waits in the entrance to +see her play her small part, and shakes her hand <!-- Page 22 --><a name='Page_22'></a>and congratulates her +when she comes off, and even tells her what to do next time at such a +point, and her heart warms within her and is filled with gratitude for +this "sympathetic friend," who helps her and has faith in her future. +The poor child little dreams that temptation may be approaching her, +softly, quietly, in the guise of friendship. So, all unconsciously, she +grows to rely upon the advice of this quiet, unassuming man. She looks +for his praise, for his approval. By and by their companionship reaches +beyond the walls of the theatre. She respects him, admires, trusts him. +Trusts him—he may be worthy, he may not! But it would be well for the +young actresses to be on their guard against the "sympathetic friend."</p> + +<p>Since we are speaking about absolute beginners, perhaps a word of +warning may be given against <i>pretended</i> critics. The young actress +trembles at the bare words "newspaper man." She ought to know that a +critic <!-- Page 23 --><a name='Page_23'></a>on a respectable paper holds a responsible position. When he +serves a prominent and a leading journal, he is frequently recognized as +an authority, and has a social as well as a professional position to +maintain. Further, the professional woman does not strongly attract the +critic personally. There is no glamour about stage people to him; but +should he desire to make an actress's acquaintance, he would do so in +the perfectly correct manner of a gentleman. But this is not known to +the young stranger within the theatrical gates, and through her +ignorance, which is far from bliss, she may be subjected to a +humiliating and even dangerous experience. I am myself one of several +women whom I know to have been victimized in early days.</p> + +<p>The beginner, then, fearing above all things the newspaper, receives one +evening a note common in appearance, coarse in expression, requesting +her acquaintance, and signed "James Flotsam," let us say. Of <!-- Page 24 --><a name='Page_24'></a>course she +pays no attention, and two nights later a card reaches her—a very +doubtful one at that—bearing the name "James Flotsam," and in the +corner, <i>Herald</i>. She may be about to refuse to see the person, but some +one will be sure to exclaim, "For mercy's sake! don't make an enemy on +the 'press.'"</p> + +<p>And trembling at the idea of being attacked or sneered at in print, +without one thought of asking what <i>Herald</i> this unknown represents, +without remembering that Miller's Pond or Somebody-else's Corners may +have a <i>Herald</i> she hastens to grant to this probably ignorant young +lout the unchaperoned interview she would instantly refuse to a +gentleman whose name was even well known to her; and trembling with fear +and hope she will listen to his boastings "of the awful roasting he gave +Billy This or Dick That," referring thus to the most prominent actors of +the day, or to his promises of puffs for herself "when old Brown or +Smith <!-- Page 25 --><a name='Page_25'></a>are out of the office" (the managing and the city editors both +being jealous of him, and blue pencilling him just for spite); and if +Mr. Flotsam does not, without leave, bring up and present his chum, Mr. +Jetsam, the young woman will be fortunate.</p> + +<p>A little quiet thought will convince her that an editor would not assign +such a person to report the burning of a barn or the interruption of a +dog fight, and with deep mortification she will discover her mistake. +The trick is as old as it is contemptible, and many a great paper has +had its name put to the dishonourable use of frightening a young actress +into an acquaintance with a self-styled critic.</p> + +<p>Does this seem a small matter to you? Then you are mistaken. There are +few things more serious for a young woman than an unworthy or +undesirable acquaintance. She will be judged, not by her many correct +friends, but by her one incorrect one. Again, feeling fear of his power +to <!-- Page 26 --><a name='Page_26'></a>work her injury, she ceases really to be a free agent, and Heaven +knows what unwise concessions she may be flurried into; and of all the +dangers visible or invisible in the path of a good girl, the most +terrible is "opportunity." If you wish to avoid danger, if you wish to +save yourself some face-reddening memory, give no one the "opportunity" +to abuse your confidence, to wound you by word or deed. Ought I to point +out one other unpleasant possibility? Temptation may approach the +somewhat advanced young actress through money and power in the guise of +the "patron of Art"—not a common form of temptation by any means. But +what <i>has</i> been may be again, and it is none the easier to resist +because it is unusual. When a young girl, with hot impatience, feels she +is not advancing as rapidly as she should, the wealthy "patron of Art" +declares it is folly for her to plod along so slowly, that he will free +her from all trammels, he will provide play, wardrobe, com<!-- Page 27 --><a name='Page_27'></a>pany, and +show the world that she is already an artist. To her trembling objection +that she could only accept such tremendous aid from one of her own +family, he would crushingly reply that "Art" (with a very big A) should +rise above common conventionalities; that he does not think of <i>her</i> +personally, but only the advance of professional "Art"; and if she must +have it so, why-er, she may pay him back in the immediate future, though +if she were the passionate lover of "Art" he had believed her to be, she +would accept the freedom he offered and waste no thought on "ways and +means" or "hows and whys."</p> + +<p>Ah, poor child, the freedom he offers would be a more cruel bondage than +slavery itself! The sensitive, proud girl would never place herself +under such heavy obligations to any one on earth. She would keep her +vanity in check, and patiently or impatiently hold on her way,—free, +independent,—owing her final success to her own <!-- Page 28 --><a name='Page_28'></a>honest work and God's +blessing. Every girl should learn these hard words by heart, <i>Rien ne se +donne, tout se paye ici-bas!</i> "Everything is paid for in this world!"</p> + +<p>A number of young girls have asked me to give them some idea of the +duties of a beginner in the profession, or what claims the theatre makes +upon her time. Very well. We will first suppose you a young and +attractive girl. You have been carefully reared and have been protected +by all the conventionalities of refined social life. Now you enter the +theatrical profession, depending solely upon your salary for your +support, meaning to become a great actress and to keep a spotless +reputation, and you will find your work cut out for you. At the stage +door you will have to leave quite a parcel of conventional rules. In the +first place, you will have to go about <i>alone</i> at night as well as by +day. Your salary won't pay for a maid or escort of any kind. That is +very dreadful at first, but in time you will <!-- Page 29 --><a name='Page_29'></a>learn to walk swiftly, +with stony face, unseeing eyes, and ears deaf to those hyenas of the +city streets, who make life a misery to the unprotected woman. The rules +of a theatre are many and very exacting, and you must scrupulously obey +them or you will surely be forfeited a stated sum of money. There is no +gallantry in the management of a company, and these forfeits are +genuine, be you man or woman.</p> + +<p>You have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness, here you will +learn that <i>punctuality</i> is next to godliness. As you hope for fame here +and life hereafter, never be late to rehearsal. That is the theatrical +unpardonable sin! You will attend rehearsal at any hour of the day the +manager chooses to call you, but that is rarely, if ever, before 10 A.M. +Your legitimate means of attracting the attention of the management are +extreme punctuality and quick studying of your part. If you can come to +the second rehearsal perfect in your lines, you are bound <!-- Page 30 --><a name='Page_30'></a>to attract +attention. Your fellow-players will not love you for it, because they +will seem dull or lazy by comparison; but the stage manager will make a +note, and it may lead to better things.</p> + +<p>Your gowns at this stage of your existence may cause you great anguish +of mind—I do not refer to their cost, but to their selection. You will +not be allowed to say, "I will wear white or I will wear pink," because +the etiquette of the theatre gives the leading lady the first choice of +colours, and after her the lady next in importance, you wearing what is +left.</p> + +<p>In some New York theatres actresses have no word in the selection of +their gowns: they receive plates from the hand of the management, and +dress accordingly. This is enough to whiten the hair of a sensitive +woman, who feels dress should be a means of expression, an outward hint +of the character of the woman she is trying to present.</p> + +<p>Should you not be in a running play, you <!-- Page 31 --><a name='Page_31'></a>may be an understudy for one +or two of the ladies who are. You will study their parts, be rehearsed +in their "business," and will then hold yourself in readiness to take, +on an instant's notice, either of their places, in case of sickness, +accident, or ill news coming to either of them. If the parts are good +ones, you will be astonished at the perfect immunity of actresses from +all mishaps; but all the same you may never leave your house without +leaving word as to where you are going and how long you expect to stay.</p> + +<p>You may never go to another theatre without permission of your own +manager; indeed, she is a lucky "understudy" who does not have to report +at the theatre at 7 o'clock every night to see if she is needed. And it +sometimes happens that the only sickness the poor "understudy" knows of +during the whole run of the play is that sickness of deferred hope which +has come to her own heart.</p> + +<p>Not so very hard a day or night, so far <!-- Page 32 --><a name='Page_32'></a>as physical labour goes, is it? +But, oh! the sameness, the deadly monotony, of repeating the same words +to the same person at the same moment every night, sick or well, sad or +happy—the same, same words!</p> + +<p>A "one-play" company offers the worst possible chance to the beginner. +The more plays there are, the more you learn from observation, as well +as from personal effort, to make the parts you play seem as unlike one +another as possible. A day like this admits of no drives, no calls, no +"teas"; you see, then, a theatrical life is not one long picnic.</p> + +<p>If there is one among my readers to whom the dim and dingy half-light of +the theatre is dearer than the God-given radiance of the sunlight; if +the burnt-out air with its indescribable odour, seemingly composed of +several parts of cellar mould, a great many parts of dry rot or unsunned +dust, the whole veined through and through with small streaks of escaped +illuminating gas—if this <!-- Page 33 --><a name='Page_33'></a>heavy, lifeless air is more welcome to your +nostrils than could be the clover-sweetened breath of the greenest +pasture; if that great black gulf, yawning beyond the extinguished +footlights, makes your heart leap up at your throat; if without noting +the quality or length of your part the just plain, bald fact of "acting +something" thrills you with nameless joy; if the rattle-to-bang of the +ill-treated old overture dances through your blood, and the rolling up +of the curtain on the audience at night is to you as the magic +blossoming of a mighty flower—if these are the things that you feel, +your fate is sealed: Nature is imperious; and through brain, heart, and +nerve she cries to you, ACT, ACT, ACT! and act you must! Yes, I know +what I have said of the difficulties in your way, but I have faith to +believe that, if God has given you a peculiar talent, God will aid you +to find a way properly to exercise that talent. You may receive many +rebuffs, but you <!-- Page 34 --><a name='Page_34'></a>must keep on trying to get into a stock company if +possible, or, next best, to get an engagement with a star who produces +many plays. Take anything, no matter how small, to begin with. You will +learn how to walk, to stand still—a tremendous accomplishment. You will +get acquainted with your own hands, and cease to worry about them.</p> + +<p>You can train your brain by studying Shakespeare and the old comedies. +Study not merely the leading part, but all the female parts; it is not +only good training, but you never know when an opportunity may come to +you. The element of "chance" enters very largely into the theatrical +life. Above all, try to remember the lines of every female character in +the play you are acting in; it might mean a sudden rise in your position +if you could go on, at a moment's notice, and play the part of some one +suddenly taken ill.</p> + +<p>Then work, work, and above all observe.<!-- Page 35 --><a name='Page_35'></a> Never fail to watch the acting +of those about you. Get at the cause of the effects. Avoid the faults, +and profit by the good points of the actors before you, but never permit +yourself to imitate them.</p> + +<p>One suggestion I would make is to keep your eyes open for signs of +character in the real life about you. The most successful bit of +business I had in "Camille" I copied from a woman I saw in a Broadway +car. If a face impresses you, study it, try afterward to recall its +expression. Note how different people express their anger: some are +redly, noisily angry; some are white and cold in their rage. All these +things will make precious material for you to draw upon some day, when +you have a character to create; and you will not need to say, "Let me +see, Miss So-and-So would stand like this, and speak very fast, or very +slow," etc.</p> + +<p>You will do independent work, good work, and will never be quite +satisfied with it, but will eagerly try again, for great artists are so +<!-- Page 36 --><a name='Page_36'></a>constituted; and the hard life of disappointments, self-sacrifices, and +many partings, where strong, sweet friendships are formed only to be +broken by travelling orders, will all be forgotten when, the glamour of +the footlights upon you, saturated with light, thrilling to music, +intoxicated with applause, you find the audience is an instrument for +you to play upon at will. And such a moment of conscious, almost divine +power is the reward that comes to those who sacrifice many things that +they may act.</p> + +<p>So if you really are one of these, I can only say, "Act, act!" and +Heaven have you in its holy keeping.</p> + +<p>But, dear gifted woman, pause before you put your hand to the plough +that will turn your future into such strange furrows; remember, the life +of the theatre is a hard life, a homeless life; that it is a wandering +up and down the earth; a life filled full with partings, with sweet, +lost friendships; that its triumphs are brilliant but brief.<!-- Page 37 --><a name='Page_37'></a> If you do +truly love acting, simply and solely for the sake of acting, then all +will be well with you, and you will be content; but verily you will be a +marvel.</p> + +<p>For the poor girl or woman who, because she has to earn her own living, +longs to become an actress, my heart aches.</p> + +<p>You will say good-by to mother's petting; you will live in your trunk. +The time will come when that poor hotel trunk (so called to distinguish +it from the trunk that goes to the theatre, when you are travelling or +en route), with its dents and scars, will be the only friendly object to +greet you in your desolate boarding-house, with its one wizened, +unwilling gas-burner, and its outlook upon back yards and cats, or roofs +and sparrows, its sullen, hard-featured bed, its despairing carpet; for +you see, you will not have the money that might take you to the front of +the house and four burners. Rain or shine, you will have to make your +lonely, often frightened way to and from the theatre.<!-- Page 38 --><a name='Page_38'></a> At rehearsals you +will have to stand about, wearily waiting hours while others rehearse +over and over again their more important scenes; yet you may not leave +for a walk or a chat, for you do not know at what moment your scene may +be called. You will not be made much of. You will receive a "Good +morning" or "Good evening" from the company, probably nothing more. If +you are travelling, you will literally <i>live</i> in your hat and cloak. You +will breakfast in them many and many a time, you will dine in them +regularly, that you may rise at once and go to the theatre or car. You +will see no one, go nowhere.</p> + +<p>If you are in earnest, you will simply endure the first year,—endure +and study,—and all for what? That, after dressing in the corner +farthest from the looking-glass, in a dismal room you would scarcely use +for your housemaid's brooms and dusters at home, you may stand for a few +moments in the background of some scene, and watch <!-- Page 39 --><a name='Page_39'></a>the leading lady +making the hit in the foreground. Will these few, well-dressed, +well-lighted, music-thrilled moments repay you for the loss of home +love, home comfort, home stardom?</p> + +<p>To that bright, energetic girl, just home from school, overeducated, +perhaps, with nothing to do, restless,—forgive me,—vain, who wants to +go upon the stage, let me say: "Pause a moment, my dear, in your +comfortable home, and think of the unemployed actresses who are +suffering from actual want. Is there one among you, who, if you had the +chance, would care to strike the bread from the hand of one of these? +Ask God that the scales of unconscious selfishness may fall from your +eyes. Look about you and see if there is not some duty, however small, +the more irksome the better, that you may take from your mother's daily +load, some service you can render for father, brother, sister, aunt; +some daily household task, so small you may feel contemptuous of <!-- Page 40 --><a name='Page_40'></a>it, +yet some one must do it, and it may be a special thorn in that some +one's side. So surely as you force yourself to do the small things +nearest your hand, so surely will you be called upon for greater +service."</p> + +<p>And oh! my dears, my dears, a loving mother's declaration, "I don't know +what I should do without my daughter," is sweeter and more precious than +the careless applause of strangers. Try, then, to be patient; find some +occupation, if it is nothing more than the weekly putting in order of +bureau drawers for some unusually careless member of the family; and, +having a good home, thank God and your parents, and stay in it.</p> + +<p>And now, having added the insult of preaching at you to the injury of +disappointing you, I suppose you will accuse me of rank hypocrisy; but +you will be wrong, because with outstretched hands I stand and proclaim +myself your well-wisher and your friend.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h2><!-- Page 41 --><a name='Page_41'></a><i>CHAPTER II +<br /><br /> +THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>How often we hear people say, "Oh, that's only a play!" or "That could +only happen in a play!" and yet it's surprising how often actors receive +proof positive that their plays are reflecting happenings in real life.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Daly had "L'Article 47" on, at the 5th Avenue Theatre, for +instance, the key-note of the play was the insanity of the heroine. In +the second, most important act, before her madness had been openly +pro<!-- Page 42 --><a name='Page_42'></a>claimed, it had to be indicated simply by manner, tone, and gesture; +and the one action of drawing the knee up into her clasping arms, and +then swaying the body mechanically from side to side, while muttering +rapidly to herself, thrilled the audience with the conviction of her +affliction more subtly than words could have done. One night, when that +act was on, I had just begun to sway from side to side, when from the +auditorium there arose one long, <i>long</i>, agonizing wail, and that wail +was followed by the heavy falling of a woman's body from her chair into +the centre aisle.</p> + +<p>In an instant all was confusion, every one sprang to his feet; even the +musicians, who were playing some creepy, incidental music, as was the +fashion then, stopped and half rose from their places. It was a dreadful +moment! Somehow I kept a desperate hold upon my strained and startled +nerves and swayed on from side to side. Mr. Stoepel, the leader, glanced +at me. I caught <!-- Page 43 --><a name='Page_43'></a>his eye and said quick and low, "Play! play!"</p> + +<a name='Article_47'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "L'Article 47"</i>]</p> + +<p>He understood; but instead of simply resuming where he had left off, +from force of habit he first gave the leader's usual three sharp taps +upon his music desk, and then—so queer a thing is an audience—those +people, brought to their feet in an agony of terror, of fire, panic, and +sudden death by a woman's cry, now at that familiar tap, tap, tap, broke +here and there into laughter. By sixes and sevens, then by tens and +twenties, they sheepishly seated themselves, only turning their heads +with pitying looks while the ushers removed the unconscious woman.</p> + +<p>When the act was over, Mr. Daly—a man of few words on such +occasions—held my hands hard for a moment, and said, "Good girl, good +girl!" and I, pleased, deprecatingly remarked, "It was the music, sir, +that quieted them," to which he made answer, "And it was you who ordered +the music!"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 44 --><a name='Page_44'></a>Verily, no single word could be spoken on his stage without his +knowledge. Later that evening we learned that the lady who had cried out +had been brought to the theatre by friends who hoped to cheer her up +(Heaven save the mark!) and help her to forget her dreadful and recent +experience of placing her own mother in an insane asylum. Learned, too, +that her very first suspicion of that poor mother's condition had come +from finding her one morning sitting up in bed, her arms embracing her +knees, while she swayed from side to side unceasingly, muttering low and +fast all the time.</p> + +<p>Poor lady! no wonder her worn nerves gave way when all unexpectedly that +dread scene was reproduced before her, and worse still before the +staring public.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Charles Matthews, the veteran English comedian, came over to +act at Mr. Daly's. His was a graceful, polished, volatile style of +acting, and he had a high opinion of his power as a maker of fun; so +<!-- Page 45 --><a name='Page_45'></a>that he was considerably annoyed one night when he discovered that one +of his auditors would not laugh. Laugh? would not even smile at his +efforts.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matthews, who was past seventy, was nervous, excitable,—and, well, +just a wee bit <i>cranky</i>; and when the play was about half over, he came +"off," angrily talking to himself, and ran against Mr. Lewis and me, as +we were just about "going on." Instantly he exclaimed, "Look here! look +here!" taking from his vest pocket a broad English gold piece and +holding it out on his hand, then added, "And look there! look there!" +pointing out a gentleman sitting in the opposite box.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that stupid dolt over there? Well, I've toiled over him till +I sweat like a harvest hand, and laugh—he won't; smile—he won't."</p> + +<p>I remarked musingly, "He looks like a graven image"; while Lewis +suggested cheerfully, "Perhaps he is one."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 46 --><a name='Page_46'></a>No, no!" groaned the unfortunate star, "I'm afraid not! I'm—I'm +almost certain I saw him move once. But look here now, you're a deucedly +funny pair; just turn yourselves loose in this scene. I'll protect you +from Daly,—do anything you like,—and the one who makes that wooden man +laugh, wins this gold piece."</p> + +<p>It was not the gold piece that tempted us to our fall, but the hope of +succeeding where the star had failed. I seized one moment in which to +notify old man Davidge of what was going on, as he had a prominent part +in the coming scene, and then we were on the stage.</p> + +<p>The play was "The Critic," the scene a burlesque rehearsal of an +old-time melodrama. Our opportunities were great, and Heaven knows we +missed none of them. New York audiences are quick, and in less than +three minutes they knew the actors had taken the bit between their teeth +and were off on a mad race of fun. Every<!-- Page 47 --><a name='Page_47'></a>thing seemed to "go." We three +knew one another well. Each saw another's idea and caught it, with the +certainty of a boy catching a ball. The audience roared with laughter; +the carpenters and scene-shifters—against the rule of the +theatre—crowded into the entrances with answering laughter; but the man +in the box gave no sign.</p> + +<p>Worse and worse we went on. Mr. Daly, white with anger, came behind the +scene, gasping out, "Are they utterly mad?" to the little Frenchman whom +he had made prompter because he could not speak English well enough to +prompt us; who, frantically pulling his hair, cried, "Oui! oui! zey are +all mad—mad like ze dog in ze summer-time!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Daly stamped his feet and cleared his throat to attract our +attention; but, trusting to Mr. Matthews's protection, we grinned +cheerfully at him and continued on our downward path. At last we reached +the "climax," and suddenly I heard Mr. Mat<!-- Page 48 --><a name='Page_48'></a>thews say, "She's got +him—look—I think she's won!"</p> + +<p>I could not help it—I turned my head to see if the "graven image" could +really laugh. Yes, he was moving! his face wore some faint expression; +but—but he was turning slowly to the laughing audience, and the +expression on his face was one of <i>wonder!</i></p> + +<p>Matthews groaned aloud, the curtain fell, and Daly was upon us. Matthews +said the cause of the whole business was that man in the box; while Mr. +Daly angrily declared, "The man in the box could have nothing to do with +the affair, since he was <i>deaf</i> and <i>dumb</i>, and had been all his life."</p> + +<p>I remember sitting down very hard and very suddenly. I remember that +Davidge, who was an Englishman, "blasted" a good many things under his +breath; and then Mr. Matthews, exclaiming with wonder, told us he had +been playing for years in a farce where this very scene was enacted, <!-- Page 49 --><a name='Page_49'></a>the +whole play consisting in the actors' efforts to win the approbation of a +man who was a deaf mute.</p> + +<p>So once more a play was found to reflect a situation in real life.</p> + +<a name='Charles_Matthews'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Charles Matthews</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h2><!-- Page 50 --><a name='Page_50'></a><i>CHAPTER III +<br /><br /> +IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Divorce" had just settled down for its long run, when one evening I +received a letter whose weight and bulk made me wonder whether the +envelope contained a "last will and testament" or a "three-act play." On +opening it I found it perfectly correct in appearance, on excellent +paper, in the clearest handwriting, and using the most perfect +orthography and grammar: a gentleman had nevertheless gently, almost +tenderly, reproached me for using <i>the story of his life</i> for the play.</p> + +<p>He said he knew Mr. Daly's name was <!-- Page 51 --><a name='Page_51'></a>on the bills as author; but as I +was an Ohio woman, he of course understood perfectly that I had +furnished Mr. D. with <i>his</i> story for the play. He explained at great +length that he forgave me because I had not given Mr. Daly his real +name, and also remarked, in rather an aggrieved way, that <i>he</i> had two +children and only one appeared in the play. He also seemed considerably +surprised that Mr. Harkins (who played my husband) did not wear a large +red beard, as every one, he said, knew <i>he</i> had not shaved for years.</p> + +<p>My laughter made its way over the transom, and in a moment my neighbour +was at the dressing-room door, asking for something she did not need, +that she might find out the why and wherefore of the fun; and when the +red beard had started her off, another came for something she knew I +didn't own, and she too fell before the beard; while a third writhed +over the forgiveness extended to me, and exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 52 --><a name='Page_52'></a>Oh, the well-educated idiot, isn't he delicious?"</p> + +<p>By and by the letter started to make a tour of the gentlemen's rooms, +and, unlike the rolling-stone that gathered no moss, it gathered +laughter as it moved.</p> + +<p>It was only Mr. Daly who astonished me by not laughing. He, instead, +seemed quite gratified that his play had so clearly reflected a real +life story.</p> + +<p>In the business world of New York there was known at that time a pair of +brothers; they were in dry-goods. The firm was new, and they were +naturally anxious to extend their trade. The buyer for a merchant in the +far Northwest had placed a small order with the brothers B., which had +proved so satisfactory that the merchant coming himself to New York the +next fall informed the brothers of his intention of dealing heavily with +them. Of course they were much pleased. They had received him warmly and +had offered him some hospitality, <!-- Page 53 --><a name='Page_53'></a>which latter he declined; but as it +was late in the day, and as he was an utter stranger to the city, he +asked if there was anything going on that would help pass an evening for +him; and the elder Mr. B. had instantly answered, Yes; that there was a +big success "on" at Daly's Theatre, right next door to the Fifth Avenue +Hotel, at which the stranger was stopping. And so with thanks and bows, +and a smiling promise to be at the store at ten o'clock the next +morning, ready for business, the brothers and the Western merchant +parted.</p> + +<p>I happened to be in the store next morning before ten, and the elder B., +who was one of my few acquaintances, was chatting to me of nothing in +particular, when I saw such an expression of surprise come into his +face, that I turned at once in the direction his glance had taken, and +saw a man plunging down the aisle toward us, like an ugly steer. He +looked a cross between a Sabbath-school superintendent and a cattle +<!-- Page 54 --><a name='Page_54'></a>dealer. He was six feet tall and very clumsy, and wore the black +broadcloth of the church and the cow-hide boots, big hat, and woollen +comforter of the cattle man; while his rage was so evident that even +organ-grinders and professional beggars fled from his presence. On he +came, stamping and shaking his head steerlike. One expected every moment +to hear him bellow. When he came up to Mr. B., it really did seem that +the man must fall in a fit. When he could speak, he burst into +vituperation and profanity. He d——d the city, its founders, and its +present occupants. He d——d Mr. B., his ancestors, his relatives near +and distant, by blood and by law; but he was exceptionally florid when +he came to tell Mr. B. how many kinds of a fool he was.</p> + +<p>When his breath was literally gone, my unfortunate friend, who had +alternately flushed and paled under the attack, said:—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dash, if you will be good enough to explain what this is all +about—"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 55 --><a name='Page_55'></a>Explain!" howled the enraged man, "explain! in the place where I come +from our jokes don't need to be explained. You ring-tail gibbering ape, +come out here on the sidewalk, and I'll explain!"</p> + +<p>Then he paused an instant, as a new thought came to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he cried, "and if I take you out there, to lick some of the +<i>fun</i> out of you, one of your constables will jump on to me! You're a +sweet, polite lot, to play jokes on strangers, and then hide behind your +constables!"</p> + +<p>Then his voice fell, his eyes narrowed, he looked an ugly customer as he +approached Mr. B., saying:—</p> + +<p>"You thought it d——d funny to send me to that play last night, on +purpose to show me you knew I had just got a divorce from my wife! And +if I have divorced her, let me tell you she's a finer woman than you +ever knew in your whole fool life! It was d——d funny, wasn't it, to +send a lonely man—a stranger—into <!-- Page 56 --><a name='Page_56'></a>a playhouse to see his own misery +acted out before him! Well, in New York that may be fun, and call for +laughter, but at my home it would call for <i>bullets</i>—and get 'em too!"</p> + +<a name='Alixe'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "Alixe".</i>]</p> + +<p>And he turned and strode out. Mr. B. had failed to mention the name of +the play when he recommended it; and the Western man, whose skin seemed +as sensitive as it was thick, thought that he was being made fun of, +when the play of "Divorce" unfolded before him.</p> + +<p>When "Alixe" was produced, there was one feature of the play that +aroused great curiosity. Mr. Daly was called upon again and again to +decide wagers, and considerable money changed hands over the question, +before people could be convinced that it was I who was carried upon the +stage, and not a waxen image of me.</p> + +<p>Many people will remember that in that heart-rending play, Alixe, the +innocent victim of others' wrong-doing, is carried on <!-- Page 57 --><a name='Page_57'></a>dead,—drowned,—and +lies for the entire act in full view of the audience. Now that was the +only play I ever saw before playing in it; and in Paris the Alixe had +been so evidently alive that the play was quite ruined.</p> + +<p>When I had that difficult scene intrusted to me, I thought long and +hard, trying to find some way to conceal my breathing. I knew I could +"make-up" my face all right—but that evident breathing. I had always +noticed that the tighter a woman laced, the higher she breathed and the +greater was the movement of her chest and bust. That gave me a hint. I +took off my corset. Still when lying down there was movement that an +opera glass would betray.</p> + +<p>Then I tried a little trick. Alixe wore white of a soft crépy material. +I had duplicate dresses made, only one was very loose in the waist. Then +I had a great big circular cloak of the same white material, quite +unlined; and when I was made up for the <!-- Page 58 --><a name='Page_58'></a>death scene, with lilies and +grasses in hand and hair, I stood upon a chair and held a corner of the +great soft cloak against my breast, while my maid carefully wound the +rest of it loosely about my body, round and round, right down to my +ankles, and fastened it there; result: a long, white-robed figure, +without one trace of waist line or bust, and beneath ample room for +natural breathing, without even the tremor of a fold to betray it.</p> + +<p>At once the question rose, was it a wax figure or was it not? One +gentleman came to Mr. Daly and asked him for the artist's address, +saying the likeness to Miss Morris was so perfect it might be herself, +and he wanted to get a wax model of his wife. Nor would he be convinced +until Mr. Daly finally brought him back to the stage, and he saw me +unpin my close drapery, and trot off to my dressing-room.</p> + +<p>The play was a great success, and often the reading of the suicide's +letter was punc<!-- Page 59 --><a name='Page_59'></a>tuated by actual sobs from the audience, instead of +those from the mother. Young club-men used to make a point of going to +the "Saturday Funeral," as they called the "Alixe" matinee. They would +gather afterward, opposite to the theatre, and make fun of the women's +faces as they came forth with tear-streaked cheeks, red noses, and +swollen eyes, and making frantic efforts to slip powder-puffs under +their veils and repair damages. If glances could have killed, there +would have been mourning in earnest in the houses of the club-men.</p> + +<p>One evening, as the audience was nearly out and the lights were being +extinguished in the auditorium, a young man came back and said to an +usher:—</p> + +<p>"There is a gentleman up there in the balcony; you'd better see to him, +before the lights are all put out."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman? what's he doing there, at this time, I'd like to know?" +grumbled the usher as he climbed up the stairs.<!-- Page 60 --><a name='Page_60'></a> But next moment he was +calling for help, for there in a front seat, fallen forward, with his +head on the balcony rail, sat an old man whose silvery white hair +reflected the faint light that fell upon it. They carried him to the +office; and after stimulants had been administered he recovered and +apologized for the trouble he had caused. As he seemed weak and shaken, +Mr. Daly thought one of the young men ought to see him safely home, but +he said:—</p> + +<p>"No, he was only in New York on business—he was at a hotel but a few +steps away, and—and—" he hesitated. "You are thinking I had no right +to go to a theatre alone," he added, "but I am not a sick +man—only—only to-night I received an awful shock."</p> + +<p>He paused. Mr. Daly noted the quiver of his firm old lips. He dismissed +the usher; then he turned courteously to the old gentleman and said:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 61 --><a name='Page_61'></a>As it was in my theatre you received that shock, will you explain it +to me?"</p> + +<p>And in a low voice the stranger told him that he had had a daughter, an +only child, a little blond, laughing thing, whom he worshipped. She was +a mere child when she fell in love. Her choice had not pleased him, and +looking upon the matter as a fancy merely, he had forbidden further +intercourse between the lovers. "And—and it was in the summer, +and—dear God, when that yellow-haired girl was carried dead upon the +stage to-night, even the grass clutched between her fingers, it was a +repetition of what occurred in my country home, sir, three years ago."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Daly gave his arm to the old stranger, and in dead silence they +walked to the hotel and parted.</p> + +<p>Once more the play had reflected real life.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h2><!-- Page 62 --><a name='Page_62'></a><i>CHAPTER IV +<br /><br /> +"MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Mr. Palmer had produced "Miss Multon" at the Union Square, and we were +fast settling down to our steady, regular gait, having got over the +false starts and breaks and nervous shyings of the opening performance, +when another missive of portentous bulk reached me.</p> + +<p>It was one of those letters in which you can find everything except an +end; and the writer was one of those men whose subjects, like an +unhealthy hair, always <!-- Page 63 --><a name='Page_63'></a>split at the end, making at least two subjects +out of one.</p> + +<p>For instance, he started to show me the resemblance between his life and +the story of the play; but when he came to mention his wife, the hair +split, and instead of continuing, he branched off, to tell me she was +the step-daughter of "So-and-so," that her own father, who was +"Somebody," had died of "something," and had been buried "somewhere"; +and then that hair split, and he proceeded to expatiate on the two +fathers' qualities, and state their different business occupations, +after which, out of breath, and far, far from the original subject, he +had to hark back two and a half pages and tackle his life again.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, it was rather pathetic reading when he kept to the point, +for love for his wife cropped out plainly between the lines after years +of separation. Suddenly he began to adorn me with a variety of fine +qualities. He assured me that I had <!-- Page 64 --><a name='Page_64'></a>penetration, clear judgment, and a +sense of justice, as well as a warm heart.</p> + +<p>I was staggering under these piled-up traits, when he completely floored +me, so to speak, by asking me to take his case under consideration, +assuring me he would act upon my advice. If I thought he had been too +severe in his conduct toward his wife, to say so, and he would seek her +out, and humble himself before her, and ask her to return to him.</p> + +<p>He also asked me whether, as a woman, I thought she would be influenced +wholly by the welfare of her children, or whether she would be likely to +retain a trace of affection for himself.</p> + +<p>That letter was an outrage. The idea of appealing to me, who had not had +the experience of a single divorce to rely upon! Even my one husband was +so recent an acquisition as to be still considered a novelty. And yet I, +all unacquainted with divorce proceedings, legal separations, and +<!-- Page 65 --><a name='Page_65'></a>common law ceremonies, was called upon to make this strange man's +troubles my own, to sort out his domestic woes, and say:—</p> + +<p>"This sin" is yours, but "that sin" is hers, and "those other sins" +belong wholly to the co-respondent.</p> + +<p>What a useful word that is! It has such a decent sound, almost +respectable. We are a refined people, even in our sins, and I know no +word in the English language we strive harder to avoid using in any of +its forms than that word of brutal vulgarity, but terrific +meaning—adultery.</p> + +<p>The adulterer may be in our midst, but we have refinement enough to +refer to him as the "So-and-So's" co-respondent.</p> + +<p>I was engaged in saying things more earnest and warm than correct and +polished—things I fear the writer of the letter could not have approved +of—when I was pulled up short by the opening words of another +paragraph, which said: "God! if <!-- Page 66 --><a name='Page_66'></a>women suffer in real life over the loss +of children, husband, and home, as you suffered before my very eyes last +night in the play; if my wife is tortured like that, it would have been +better for me to have passed out of life, and have left her in peace. +But I did not know that women suffered so. Help me, advise me."</p> + +<p>I could not ignore that last appeal. What my answer was you will not +care to know; but if it was brief, it was at least not flippant; and +before writing it, I, in my turn, appealed for help, only my appeal was +made upon my knees to the Great Authority.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On election nights it is customary for the manager to read or have read +to the audience the returns as fast as they come in from various points, +showing how the voting has gone.</p> + +<a name='Miss_Multon'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris and James Parselle in 3d Act of "Miss +Multon"</i>]</p> + +<p>An election was just over, when one evening a small incident occurred +during a performance of "Miss Multon" that we would <!-- Page 67 --><a name='Page_67'></a>gladly have +dispensed with. In the quarrel scene between the two women, the first +and supposedly dead wife, in her character of governess to her own +children, is goaded by the second wife into such a passion that she +finally throws off all concealment and declares her true character and +name.</p> + +<p>The scene was a strong one, and was always looked forward to eagerly by +the audience.</p> + +<p>On the evening I speak of the house was packed almost to suffocation. +The other characters in the play had withdrawn, and for the first time +the two women were alone together. Both keyed up almost to the breaking +point, we faced each other, and there was a dead, I might almost say a +<i>deadly</i> pause before either spoke.</p> + +<p>It was very effective—that silence before the storm. People would lean +forward and fairly hold their breath, feeling there was a death struggle +coming. And just at that very moment of tensest feeling, as we two +<!-- Page 68 --><a name='Page_68'></a>women silently measured each other, a man's voice clearly and +exultantly declared:—</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>now</i>, we'll get the returns read, I reckon."</p> + +<p>In one instant the whole house was in a roar of laughter. Under cover of +the noise I said to my companion, who was showing her annoyance, "Keep +still! keep still!"</p> + +<p>And as we stood there like statues, utterly ignoring the interruption, +there was a sudden outbreak of hissing, and the laughter stopped as +suddenly as it had burst out, and our scene went on, receiving even more +than its usual meed of applause. But when the curtain had fallen, I had +my own laugh; for <i>it was</i> funny, very funny.</p> + +<p>In Boston there was an interruption of a different nature. It was at a +matinee performance. There were tear-wet faces everywhere you looked. +The last act was on. I was slipping to my knees in my vain entreaty to +be allowed to see my children as their <!-- Page 69 --><a name='Page_69'></a>mother, not merely as their +dying governess, when a tall, slim, black-robed woman rose up in the +parquet. She flung out her arms in a superb gesture, and in a voice of +piercing anguish cried:—</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, let her have her children! I've lived through such +loss, but she can't; it will kill her!"</p> + +<p>Tears sprang to the eyes of every one on the stage, and there was a +perceptible halt in the movement of the play. And when, at the death +scene, a lady was carried out in a faint, we were none of us surprised +to hear it was <i>she</i> who had so far forgotten where she was as to make +that passionate plea for a woman whose suffering was probably but a +faint reflection of her own.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h2><!-- Page 70 --><a name='Page_70'></a><i>CHAPTER V +<br /><br /> +THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>One night at the Union Square Theatre, when the "New Magdalen" was +running, we became aware of the presence of a distinguished visitor—a +certain actress from abroad.</p> + +<p>As I looked at the beautiful woman, magnificently dressed and jewelled, +I found it simply impossible to believe the stories I had heard of her +frightful poverty, in the days of her lowly youth.</p> + +<p>Her manner was listless, her expression bored; even the conversation +which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while +her applause was so <!-- Page 71 --><a name='Page_71'></a>plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss +being a courtesy at all.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful +five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister +is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear, +lest her <i>ennui</i> should find some unpleasant outward expression. +However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could.</p> + +<p>As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my +lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was +almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her +face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn.</p> + +<p>I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:—</p> + +<p>"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation."</p> + +<p>Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of <!-- Page 72 --><a name='Page_72'></a>her chair, and she lifted +herself upright. I went on:—</p> + +<p>"I was alone—the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak +closely about her.) "The night was coming on—and—and—I +begged—<i>openly</i>—LOUDLY—as only a hungry child can beg."</p> + +<p>She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the +perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at +her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour.</p> + +<p>The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I +responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch +of roses.</p> + +<p>A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when +with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she +said:—</p> + +<p>"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite +please me."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand," I answered.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 73 --><a name='Page_73'></a>She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a +sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it +amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own +childhood."</p> + +<p>At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't—please don't—"</p> + +<p>I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she +understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look +shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly +toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the +opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was the play reflecting +real life.</p> + +<p>But surely I have given instances enough in illustration of my original +claim that the most dramatic scenes in plays are generally the mere +reflections of happenings in real life; while the recognition of such +scenes often causes a serious interruption to the <!-- Page 74 --><a name='Page_74'></a>play, though goodness +knows there are plenty of interruptions from other causes.</p> + +<p>One that comes often to my mind occurred at Daly's. He once tried to +keep the theatre open in the summer-time—that was a failure. Two or +three plays were tried, then he abandoned the scheme. But while "No +Name" was on, Mr. Parks was cast for a part he was utterly unsuited for. +He stamped and stammered out his indignation and objection, but he was +not listened to, so on he went.</p> + +<p>During the play he was found seated at a table; and he not answering a +question put to him, his housekeeper knelt at his side, lifted his hand, +and let it fall, heavily, then in awed tones exclaimed, "He is dead!"</p> + +<p>Now there is no use denying that, clever actor as he was, he was very, +<i>very</i> bad in that part; and on the third night, when the housekeeper +let his hand fall and said, "He is dead!" in clear and hearty response +from the gallery came the surprising words, "Thank God!"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 75 --><a name='Page_75'></a>The laughter that followed was not only long-continued, but it broke +out again and again. As one young woman earnestly remarked next day: +"You see he so perfectly expressed all our feelings. We were all as +thankful as the man in the gallery, but we didn't like to say so."</p> + +<p>Parks, however, was equal to the occasion. He gravely suggested that Mr. +Daly would do well to engage that chap, as he was the only person who +had made a hit in the play.</p> + +<p>Parks was, by the way, very droll in his remarks about theatrical +matters. One day Mr. Daly concluded he would "cut" one of the acts we +were rehearsing, and it happened that Parks's part, which was already +short, suffered severely. He, of course, said nothing, but a little +later he introduced a bit of business which was very funny, but really +did not suit the scene. Mr. Daly noticed it, and promptly cut that out +too. Then was Parks wroth indeed.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 76 --><a name='Page_76'></a>After rehearsal, he and Mr. Lewis were walking silently homeward, when +they came upon an Italian street musician. The man ground at his movable +piano, the wife held the tambourine, while his leggy little daughter +danced with surprising grace on the stone walk. As she trotted about +gathering her harvest of pennies, Parks put his hand on her shoulder and +said solemnly:—</p> + +<p>"You ought to be devilish glad you're not in Daly's company; he'd cut +that dance out if you were."</p> + +<p>One evening in New Orleans, when we were playing "Camille," a coloured +girl, who had served me as dressing-maid, came to see me, and I gave her +a "pass," that she might see from the "front" the play she had so often +dressed me for. She went to the gallery and found herself next to a +young black man, who had brought his sweetheart to see her first play.</p> + +<p>The girl was greatly impressed and easily moved, and at the fourth act, +when Armand <!-- Page 77 --><a name='Page_77'></a>hurled the money at me, striking me in the face, she turned +to her young man, saying savagely, "You, Dave, you got ter lay for dat +white man ter night, an' lick der life outen him."</p> + +<p>Next moment I had fallen at Armand's feet. The curtain was down and the +girl was excitedly declaring, I was dead! while Dave assured her over +and over again, "No, honey, she carn't be dead yit, 'cause, don' yer +see, der's anudder act, an' she just nacherly's got ter be in it."</p> + +<p>When, however, the last act was on, it was Dave himself who did the +business. The pathetic death scene was almost over, when applause broke +from the upper part of the house. Instantly a mighty and unmistakable +negro voice, said: "Hush—hush! She's climin' der golden stair dis time, +shure—keep still!"</p> + +<p>My devoted "Nannine" leaned over me to hide my laughing face from the +audience, who quickly recovered from the interruption, <!-- Page 78 --><a name='Page_78'></a>while for once +Camille, the heart-broken, died with a laugh in her throat.</p> + +<p>In the same city I had, one matinee, to come down three steps on to the +stage. I was quite gorgeous in one of my best gowns; for one likes to +dress for Southern girls, they are so candidly pleased with your pretty +things. My skirt caught on a nail at the very top step, so that when I +reached the stage my train was stretched out full length, and in the +effort a scene-hand made to free it, it turned over, so that the +rose-pink lining could be plainly seen, when an awed voice exclaimed, +"For de Lor's sake, dat woman's silk lin'd clear frou!" and the +performance began in a gale of laughter.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h2><!-- Page 79 --><a name='Page_79'></a><i>CHAPTER VI +<br /><br /> +"ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>An odd and somewhat touching little incident occurred one evening when +we were in the far Northwest. There was a blizzard on just then, and the +cold was something terrible. I had a severe attack of throat trouble, +and my doctor had been with me most of the day. His little boy, hearing +him speak of me, was seized with a desire to go to the theatre, and +coaxed so well that his father promised to take him.</p> + +<p>The play was "Odette." The doctor and <!-- Page 80 --><a name='Page_80'></a>his pretty little son sat in the +end seats of the parquet circle, close to the stage and almost facing +the whole house. The little fellow watched his first play closely. As +the comedy bit went on, he smiled up at his father, saying audibly, "I +like her—don't you, papa?"</p> + +<p>Papa silenced him, while a few people who had overheard smiled over the +child's unconsciousness of observers. But when I had changed my dress +and crept into the darkened room in a <i>robe de chambre</i>; when the +husband had discovered my wrong-doing and was driving me out of his +house, a child's cry of protest came from the audience. At the same +moment, the husband raised his hand to strike. I repelled him with a +gesture and went staggering off the stage; while that indignant little +voice cried, "Papa! papa! can't you have that man arrested?" and the +curtain fell.</p> + +<p>One of the actors ran to the peep-hole in the curtain, and saw the +doctor leading out <!-- Page 81 --><a name='Page_81'></a>the little man, who was then crying bitterly, the +audience smiling and applauding him, one might say affectionately.</p> + +<p>A bit later the doctor came to my dressing-room to apologize and to tell +me the rest of it. When the curtain had fallen, the child had begged: +"Take me out—take me out!" and the doctor, thinking he might be ill, +rose and led him out. No sooner had they reached the door, however, than +he pulled his hand away, crying: "Quick, papa! quick! you go round the +block that way, and I'll run round this way, and we'll be sure to find +that poor lady that's out in the cold—just in her nighty!"</p> + +<p>In vain he tried to explain, the child only grew more wildly excited; +and finally the doctor promised, if the child would come home at once, +only two blocks away, he would return and look for the lady—in the +nighty. And he had taken the little fellow home and had seen him fling +himself into his mother's arms, and with tears and sobs <!-- Page 82 --><a name='Page_82'></a>tell her of the +"poor lady whose husband had driven her right out into the blizzard, +don't you think, mamma, and only her nighty on; and, mamma, she hadn't +done one single bad thing—not one!"</p> + +<p>Poor, warm-hearted, innocent little man; he was assured later on that +the lady had been found and taken to a hotel; and I hope his next play +was better suited to his tender years.</p> + +<p>In Philadelphia we had a very ludicrous interruption during the last act +of "Man and Wife." The play was as popular as the Wilkie Collins' story +from which it had been taken, and therefore the house was crowded.</p> + +<a name='Odette'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris as "Odette"</i>]</p> + +<p>I was lying on the bed in the darkened room, in that profound and +swift-coming sleep known, alas! only to the stage hero or heroine. The +paper on the wall began to move noiselessly aside, and in the opening +thus disclosed at the head of the bed, lamp-illumined, appeared the +murderous faces of Delamain and Hesther Detheridge.<!-- Page 83 --><a name='Page_83'></a> As the latter +raised the wet, suffocating napkin that was to be placed over my face, a +short, fat man in the balcony started to his feet, and broke the creepy +silence with the shout:—</p> + +<p>"Mein Gott in Himmel! vill dey murder her alreaty?"</p> + +<p>Some one tried to pull him down into his seat, but he struck the hand +away, crying loudly, "Stob it! stob it, I say!" And while the people +rocked back and forth with laughter, an usher led the excited German +out, declaring all the way that "A blay vas a blay, but somedings might +be dangerous even in a blay! unt dat ting vat he saw should be stobbed +alreaty!" Meantime I had quite a little rest on my bed before quiet +could be restored and the play proceed.</p> + +<p>I have often wondered if any audience in the world can be as quick to +see a point as is the New York audience. During my first season in this +city there was a play <!-- Page 84 --><a name='Page_84'></a>on at Mr. Daly's that I was not in, but I was +looking on at it.</p> + +<p>In one scene there stood a handsome bronze bust on a tall pedestal. From +a careless glance I took it to be an Ariadne. At the changing of the +scene the pedestal received a blow that toppled it over, and the +beautiful "bronze" bust broke into a hundred pieces of white plaster.</p> + +<p>The laughter that followed was simply caused by the discovery of a stage +trick. The next character coming upon the stage was played by Miss +Newton, in private life known as Mrs. Charles Backus, wife of the then +famous minstrel. No sooner did she appear upon the stage, not even +speaking one line, than the laugh broke forth again, swelled, and grew, +until the entire audience joined in one great roar. I expected to see +the lady embarrassed, distressed; but not she! After her first startled +glance at the house, she looked at the pedestal, and then she, too, +laughed, when the audi<!-- Page 85 --><a name='Page_85'></a>ence gave a hearty round of applause, which she +acknowledged.</p> + +<p>A scene-hand, noticing my amazed face, said, "You don't see it, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "did you know who that bust was?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I replied, "I think it was Ariadne."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" he said, "it was a bust of Bacchus; then, when Mrs. Backus +appeared—"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I interrupted. "They all said to themselves: 'Poor Backus is +broken all up! Backus has busted!'"</p> + +<p>And that was why they laughed; and she saw it and laughed with them, and +they saw <i>that</i> and applauded her. Well, that's a quick-witted +audience—an opinion I still retain.</p> + +<p>People are fond of saying, "A woman can't keep a secret." Well, perhaps +she doesn't keep her secrets forever; but here's how two women kept a +secret for a good <!-- Page 86 --><a name='Page_86'></a>many years, and betrayed it through a scene in a +play.</p> + +<p>Mr. Daly's treasurer had given tickets to some friends for a performance +of "Divorce." They were ladies—mother and daughter. At first greatly +pleased, the elder lady soon began to grow nervous, then tearful as the +play went on; and her daughter, watching her closely, was about to +propose their retirement, when the mother, with clasped hands and +tear-blurred eyes, seeing the stealing of my little son by the order of +his father, thrilled the audience and terrified her daughter by flinging +up her arms and crying wildly: "Don't do it! for God's sake, don't do +it! You don't know what agony it means!" and fell fainting against the +frightened girl beside her.</p> + +<p>Great confusion followed; the ushers, assisted by those seated near, +removed the unconscious woman to Mr. Daly's private office; but so +greatly had her words affected the people, that when the men on the +stage <!-- Page 87 --><a name='Page_87'></a>escaped through the window with the child in their arms, the +curtain fell to a volley of hisses.</p> + +<p>In the office, as smelling salts, water, and fresh air were brought into +requisition, in answer to a question of Mr. Daly's, the treasurer was +saying, "She is Mrs. W——, a widow," when a faint voice interrupted, +"No—no; I'm no widow!"</p> + +<p>The treasurer smiled pityingly, and continued, "I have known her +intimately for twelve years, sir; she is the widow of—"</p> + +<p>"No—no!" came the now sobbing voice. "No—no! Oh, Daisy, dear, tell +him! tell him!"</p> + +<p>And the young girl, very white, and trembling visibly, said: "I hope you +will forgive us, Mr. W——, but from causeless jealousy my father +deserted mother, and—and he stole my little brother, mamma's only son! +We have never heard of either of them since. Widowhood seemed a sort of +protection to poor mamma, and she has hid<!-- Page 88 --><a name='Page_88'></a>den behind its veil for +sixteen years. She meant no harm. She would have told you before—"</p> + +<p>She turned crimson and stopped, but that burning blush told its story +plainly; and Mr. Daly busied himself over the pouring of a glass of wine +for the robbed mother, while the treasurer in low tones assured Daisy +there was nothing to forgive, and gratefully accepted the permission +granted him to see the poor things safely home.</p> + +<p>Sixteen years' silence is not so bad for a sex who can't keep a secret!</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h2><!-- Page 89 --><a name='Page_89'></a><i>CHAPTER VII +<br /><br /> +A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was before I came to New York that I one night saw a really fine +performance almost ruined by a single interruption. It was a domestic +tragedy of English rural life, and one act began with a tableau copied +exactly from a popular painting called "Waiting for the Verdict," which +was also the title of the play.</p> + +<p>The scene gave an exterior view of the building within which the husband +and father was being tried for his life on a charge of murder. The +trembling old grandsire leaned heavily on his staff; the devoted wife +sat wearily by the closed iron gate, with a babe <!-- Page 90 --><a name='Page_90'></a>on her breast, tired +but vigilant; a faithful dog stretched himself at her feet, while his +shaggy shoulders pillowed the head of the sleeping child, who was the +accused man's darling.</p> + +<p>The curtain rose on this picture, which was always heartily greeted, and +often, so well it told its pathetic story, a second and a third round of +applause greeted it before the dialogue began. The manager's little +daughter, who did the sleeping child, contracted a cold and was advised +not to venture out of the house for a fortnight, so a substitute had to +be found, and a fine lot of trouble the stage-manager had. He declared +half the children of Columbus had been through his sieve; and there was +the trouble—they all went through, there was no one left to act as +substitute. But at last he found two promising little girls, sisters +they were, and very poor; but the mother vowed her children must be in +bed at nine, theatre or no theatre; yes, she <!-- Page 91 --><a name='Page_91'></a>would like to have the +money, but she'd do without it rather than have a child out of bed at +all hours. At first she held out for nine o'clock, but at last yielded +the additional half-hour; and to the great disappointment of the younger +child, the elder one was accepted, for the odd reason that she looked so +much younger than her sister.</p> + +<p>The company had come from Cleveland, and there were the usual slight +delays attendant on a first night; but the house was "good"; the star +(Mr. Buchanan) was making a fine impression, and the play was evidently +a "go." The big picture was looked forward to eagerly, and when it was +arranged, we had to admit that the pale, pinched little face of the +strange child was more effective as it rested on the dog's shoulder than +had been the plump, smiling face of the manager's little one. The +curtain went up, the applause followed; those behind the scenes crowded +to the "wings" to look on; no one noted that the hands of the clock +stood at<!-- Page 92 --><a name='Page_92'></a> 9.40; no one heard through the second burst of applause the +slam of the stage door behind the very, very small person who entered, +and silently peering this way and that, found her stern, avenging way to +the stage, and that too-favoured sister basking in the sunlight of +public approval.</p> + +<p>The grandsire had just lifted his head and was about to deliver his +beautiful speech of trust and hope, when he was stricken helpless by the +entrance upon the stage of a boldly advancing small person of most +amazing appearance. Her thin little legs emerged from the shortest of +skirts, while her small body was well pinned up in a great blanket +shawl, the point of which trailed fully a quarter of a yard on the floor +behind her. She wore a woman's hood on her head, and from its cavernous +depth, where there gleamed a pale, malignant small face, a voice +issued—the far-reaching voice of a child—that triumphantly +commanded:—</p> + +<p>"You, Mary Ann, yu're ter get up out of <!-- Page 93 --><a name='Page_93'></a>that an' com' home straight +away—an' yu're ter go ter bed, too,—mother says so!" and the small +Nemesis turned on her heel and trailed off the stage, followed by +laughter that seemed fairly to shake the building. Nor was that all. No +sooner had Mary Ann grasped the full meaning of this dread message than +she turned over on her face, and scrambling up by all fours, she eluded +the restraining hands of the actress-mother and made a hasty exit to +perfect shrieks of laughter and storms of applause; while the climax was +only reached when the dog, trained to lie still so long as the pressure +of the child's head was upon his shoulder, finding himself free, rose, +shook himself violently, and trotted off, waving his tail pleasantly as +he went.</p> + +<p>That finished it; the curtain had to fall, a short overture was played, +and the curtain rose again without the complete tableau, and the action +of the play was resumed; but several times the laughter was renewed. It +<!-- Page 94 --><a name='Page_94'></a>was only necessary for some person to titter over the ludicrous +recollection, and instantly the house was laughing with that person. The +next night the manager's child, swathed in flannel, with a mouth full of +cough-drops, held the well-trained dog in his place until the proper +moment for him to rise, and the play went on its way rejoicing.</p> + +<p>And just to show how long-lasting is the association of ideas, I will +state that years, many years afterward, I met a gentleman who had been +in the auditorium that night, and he told me he had never since seen a +blanket shawl, whether in store for sale or on some broad back, that he +had not instantly laughed outright, always seeing poor Mary Ann's +obedient exit after that vengeful small sister with her trailing shawl.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 95 --><a name='Page_95'></a><i>CHAPTER VIII +<br /><br /> +THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was in "Camille," one Friday night, in Baltimore, that for the only +time in my life I wished to wipe an animal out of existence. I love +four-footed creatures with extravagant devotion, not merely the finely +bred and beautiful ones, but the poor, the sick, the halt, the maimed, +the half-breeds or the no breeds at all; and almost all animals quickly +make friends with me, divining my love for them. But on this one +night—well! it was this way. In the last act, as Camille, I had +staggered from the window <!-- Page 96 --><a name='Page_96'></a>to the bureau and was nearing that dread +moment when in the looking-glass I was to see the reflection of my +wrecked and ruined self. The house was giving strained attention, +watching dim-eyed the piteous, weak movements of the dying woman; and +right there I heard that (——h!) quick indrawing of the breath startled +womanhood always indulges in before either a scream or a laugh. My heart +gave a plunge, and I thought: What is it? Oh, what is wrong? and I +glanced down at myself anxiously, for really I wore so very little in +that scene that if anything should slip off—gracious! I did not know +but what, in the interest of public propriety, the law might interfere. +But that one swift glance told me that the few garments I had assumed in +the dressing-room still faithfully clung to me. But alas! there was the +dreaded titter, and it was unmistakably growing. What was it about? They +could only laugh at me, for there was no one else on the stage. Was +there not, indeed! In an <!-- Page 97 --><a name='Page_97'></a>agony of humiliation I turned half about and +found myself facing an absolutely monstrous cat. Starlike he held the +very centre of the stage, his two great topaz eyes were fixed roundly +and unflinchingly upon my face. On his body and torn ears he carried the +marks of many battles. His brindled tail stood straightly and +aggressively in the air, and twitched with short, quick twitches, at its +very tip, truly as burly an old buccaneer as I ever saw.</p> + +<p>No wonder they giggled! But how to save the approaching death scene from +total ruin? All was done in a mere moment or two; but several plans were +made and rejected during these few moments. Naturally my first thought, +and the correct one, was to call back "Nannine," my faithful maid, and +tell her to remove the cat. But alas! my Nannine was an unusually +dull-witted girl, and she would never be able to do a thing she had not +rehearsed. My next impulse was to pick up the creature and carry <!-- Page 98 --><a name='Page_98'></a>it off +myself; but I was playing a dying girl, and the people had just seen me, +after only three steps, reel helplessly into a chair; and this cat might +easily weigh twelve pounds or more; and then at last my plan was formed. +I had been clinging all the time to the bureau for support, now I +slipped to my knees and with a prayer in my heart that this fierce old +Thomas might not decline my acquaintance, I held out my hand, and in a +faint voice, called "Puss—Puss—Puss! come here, Puss!"</p> + +<p>It was an awful moment: if he refused to come, if he turned tail and +ran, all was over; the audience would roar.</p> + +<p>"Puss—Puss!" I pleaded. Thomas looked hard at me, hesitated, stretched +out his neck, and working his whiskers nervously, sniffed at my hand.</p> + +<p>"Puss—Puss!" I gasped out once more, and lo! he gave a little "meow," +and walking over to me, arched his back amicably, and rubbed his dingy +old body against my <!-- Page 99 --><a name='Page_99'></a>knee. In a moment my arms were about him, my cheek +on his wicked old head, and the applause that broke forth from the +audience was as balm of Gilead to my distress and mortification. Then I +called for Nannine, and when she came on, I said to her, "Take him +downstairs, Nannine, he grows too heavy a pet for me these days," and +she lifted and carried Sir Thomas from the stage, and so I got out of +the scrape without sacrificing my character as a sick woman.</p> + +<p>My manager, Mr. John P. Smith, who was a wag, and who would willingly +give up his dinner, which he loved, for a joke, which he loved better, +was the next day questioned about this incident. One gentleman, a music +dealer, said to him: "Mr. Smith, I wish you to settle a question for me. +My wife and I are at variance. We saw 'Camille' last night, and my wife, +who has seen it several times in New York, insisted that that beautiful +little cat-scene belongs to the play <!-- Page 100 --><a name='Page_100'></a>and is always done; while I am +sure I never saw it before, and several of my customers agree with me, +one lady declaring it to have been an accident. Will you kindly set us +right?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," heartily replied Mr. Smith; "your wife is quite right, the +cat scene is always done. It is a great favourite with Miss Morris, and +she hauls that cat all over the country with her, ugly as he is, just +because he's such a good actor."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h2><!-- Page 101 --><a name='Page_101'></a><i>CHAPTER IX +<br /><br /> +"ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>During the run of "Alixe," at Daly's Theatre, I had suffered from a +sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs, and before I was well the +doctor was simply horrified to learn that Mr. Daly had commanded me to +play at the Saturday performance, saying that if the work made me worse, +the doctor would have all day Sunday to treat me in. He really seemed to +think that using a carriage did away with all possible danger in passing +from a warm room, through icy streets, to a draughty theatre. But +certain lesions that I carry about with me are proofs of his error. +However, I dared not risk losing my engagement, so I obeyed. My chest, +<!-- Page 102 --><a name='Page_102'></a>which had been blistered and poulticed during my illness, was +excruciatingly tender and very sensitive to cold; and the doctor, +desiring to heal, and at the same time to protect it from chill, to my +unspeakable mortification anointed me lavishly with goose grease and +swathed me in flannel and cotton wadding.</p> + +<p>That I had no shape left to me was bad enough; but to be a moving +abomination was worse, and of all vile, offensive, and vulgar odours +commend me to that of goose grease. With cheeks wet from tears of sheer +weakness, I reached the theatre resolved to keep as silent as the grave +on the subject of my flamboyant armour of grease and flannel. But the +first faint muttering of the coming storm reached me even in my +dressing-room, when the theatre maid (I had none of my own yet) entered, +and frowningly snapped out: "I'd like to know what's the matter with +this room? It never smelled like this before. Just as soon as you go +out, Miss<!-- Page 103 --><a name='Page_103'></a> Morris, I'll hunt it over and see what the trouble is."</p> + +<p>I had been pale, but at that speech one might have lighted matches at my +scarlet face. While in the entrance I had to be wrapped up in a great +big shawl, through which the odour could not quite penetrate, so no one +suspected me when making kindly inquiries about my health; but when it +was thrown off, and in my thin white gown I went on the stage—oh!</p> + +<p>In the charming little love scene, as Henri and I sat close, oh, very +close together, on the garden seat, and I had to look up at him with +wide-eyed admiration, I saw him turn his face aside, wrinkling up his +nose, and heard him whisper: "What an infernal smell! What is it?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head in seeming ignorance and wondered what was ahead—if +this was the beginning. It was a harrowing experience; by the time the +second act was on, the whole company was aroused. They were like an +<!-- Page 104 --><a name='Page_104'></a>angry swarm of bees. Miss Dietz kept her handkerchief openly to her +pretty nose; Miss Morant, in stately dudgeon, demanded that Mr. Daly +should be sent for, that he might learn the condition of his theatre, +and the dangers his people were subjected to in breathing such poisoned +air; while right in the very middle of our best scene, Mr. Louis James, +the incorrigible, stopped to whisper, "Can't we move further over and +get out of this confounded stench?"</p> + +<p>In that act I had to spend much of my time at the piano, with the result +that when the curtain fell, the people excitedly declared that awful +smell was worst right there, and I had the misery of seeing the prompter +carefully looking into the piano and applying his long, sharp nose to +its upright interior.</p> + +<p>There had been a moment in that act when I thought James Lewis suspected +me. I had just taken my seat opposite him at the chess table, when he +gave a little jerk at his chair, exclaiming under his breath, "Blast +that smell—there it is again!"</p> + +<a name='Mrs._Gilbert'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Mrs. Gilbert, Augustin Daly, James Lewis, Louis James</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 105 --><a name='Page_105'></a>I remained silent, and there I was wrong; for Lewis, knowing me well, +knew my habit of extravagant speech, and instantly his blue pop eyes +were upon my miserable face, with suspicion sticking straight out of +them. With trembling hand I made my move at chess, saying, "Queen to +Queens rook four," and he added in aside, "Seems to me you're mighty +quiet about this scent; I hope you ain't going to tell me you can't +smell it?"</p> + +<p>But the assurance that "I did—oh, I did, indeed! smell a most +outrageous odour," came so swiftly, so convincingly from my lips, that +his suspicions were lulled to rest.</p> + +<p>The last act came, and—and—well, as I said, it was the last act. White +and rigid and lily-strewn, they bore me on the stage,—Louis James at +the shoulders and George Clarke at the feet. Their heads were bent over +me. James was nearest to the storm centre. Suddenly he gasped, then as +we reached the centre of the stage Clarke gave vent to "phew!" They +gently laid me on <!-- Page 106 --><a name='Page_106'></a>the sofa, but through the sobs of the audience and of +the characters I heard from James the unfinished, half-doubting +sentence, "Well, I believe in my soul it's—" But the mother (Miss +Morant) approached me then, took my hand, touched my brow, called for +help, for a physician; then with the wild cry, "She is dead! she is +dead!" flung herself down beside the sofa with her head upon my +goose-grease breast. Scarcely had she touched me, however, when with a +gasping snort of disgust she sprang back, exclaiming violently, "It's +you, you wretch! it's <i>you</i>!" and then under cover of other people's +speeches, I being dead and helpless, Clarke stood at my head and James +at my feet and reviled me, calling me divers unseemly names and mocking +at me, while references were made every now and then to chloride of lime +and such like disinfectants.</p> + +<p>They would probably have made life a burden for me ever after, had I not +after the performance lifted tearful eyes to them and <!-- Page 107 --><a name='Page_107'></a>said, "I am so +sorry for your discomfort, but you can go out and get fresh air; but, +boys, just think of me, I can't get away from myself and my goose-grease +smell a single moment, and it's perfectly awful!"</p> + +<p>"You bet it is!" they all answered, as with one voice, and they were +merciful to me, which did not prevent them from sending the prompter +(who did not know of the discovery) with a lantern to search back of the +scenes for the cause of the offensive odour. Perhaps I may add that +goose grease does not figure in my list of "household remedies."</p> + +<p>But the next week I was able, in a measure at least, to heal their +wounded feelings. Actresses used to receive a good many little gifts +from admirers in the audience. They generally took the form of flowers +or candy, but sometimes there came instead a book, a piece of music, or +an ornament for the dressing-table; but Alixe's altar could boast an +entirely new votive offering. I received a let<!-- Page 108 --><a name='Page_108'></a>ter and a box. The letter +was an outburst of admiration for Alixe, the "lily maid the tender, the +poetical," etc. The writer then went on to tell me how she had yearned +to express to me her feelings; how she had consulted her husband on the +matter, and how he had said certainly to write if she wished, and send +some little offering, which seemed appropriate, and "therefore she sent +<i>this</i>"; and with visions of a copy of Keats or Shelley or a +lace-trimmed pin-cushion, I opened the box and found the biggest mince +pie I ever saw.</p> + +<p>Certainly the lady's idea of an appropriate gift was open to criticism, +but not so her pie. That was rich perfection. Its fruity, spicy interior +was evenly warmed with an evident old French brandy,—no savagely +burning cooking brandy, mind,—and when the flaky marvel had stood upon +the heater for a time, even before its cutting up with a paper-knife, +the odour of goose grease was lost in the "Araby the Blest" scent of +mince meat.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h2><!-- Page 109 --><a name='Page_109'></a><i>CHAPTER X +<br /><br /> +J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>The late John E. Owens, while acting in Cincinnati, had a severe cold. +He was feverish, and fearing for his throat, which was apt to give him +trouble, he had his physician, an old friend, come to see him back of +the scenes. The doctor brought with him an acquaintance, and Mr. Owens +asked them to wait till the next act was over to see how his throat was +going to behave.</p> + +<p>It's always a dangerous thing to turn out<!-- Page 110 --><a name='Page_110'></a>siders loose behind the +scenes; for if they don't fall into traps, or step into paint pots, they +are sure to pop on to the stage.</p> + +<p>Mr. Owens supposed the gentlemen would stop quietly in his room, but not +they. Out they wandered on discovery intent. A well-painted scene caught +the doctor's eye. He led his friend up to it, to take a better look; +then as only part of it was visible from where they stood, they followed +it along.</p> + +<p>Mr. Owens and I were on the stage. Suddenly his eyes distended. "What in +the devil?" he whispered. I looked behind me, and at the same moment the +audience burst into shouts of laughter; for right into the centre of the +stage had walked, with backs toward the audience, two tall gentlemen, +each with a shining bald head, each tightly buttoned in a long black +overcoat, and each gesticulating with a heavy cane.</p> + +<p>I whispered to Mr. Owens, "The two Dromios"; but he snapped out, "Two +blind old bats."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 111 --><a name='Page_111'></a>When they heard the roar behind them, they turned their heads, and then +a funnier, wilder exit I never saw than was made by these two dignified +old gentlemen; while Owens added to the laughter by taking me by the +hand, and when we had assumed their exact attitude, singing "Two +wandering boys from Switzerland."</p> + +<p>I am reminded that the first performance I ever saw in my life had one +of the most grotesque interruptions imaginable. At a sort of country +hotel much frequented by driving parties and sleighing parties, a +company of players were "strapped,"—to use the theatrical term, +stranded,—unable either to pay their bills or to move on. There was a +ballroom in the house, and the proprietor allowed them to erect a +temporary stage there and give a performance, the guests in the house +promising to attend in a body.</p> + +<p>One of the plays was an old French farce, known to English audiences as +"The Hole in the Wall." The principal comedy <!-- Page 112 --><a name='Page_112'></a>part was a clerk to two +old misers, who starved him outrageously.</p> + +<p>I was a little, stiffly starched person, and I remember that I sat on +some one's silk lap, and slipped and slipped, and was hitched up and +immediately slipped again until I wished I might fall off and be done +with it. Near me sat a little old maiden lady, who had come in from her +village shop to see "the show." She wore two small, sausage curls either +side of her wrinkled cheeks, large glasses, a broad lace collar, while +three members of her departed family gathered together in one fell group +on a mighty pin upon her tired chest. She held a small bag on her knee, +and from it she now and then slid a bit of cake which, as she nibbled +it, gave off a strong odour of caraway seed.</p> + +<a name='Owens'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>John E. Owens</i>]</p> + +<p>Now the actor was clever in his "make-up," and each time he appeared he +looked thinner than he had in the scene before. Instead of laughing, +however, the old woman took it seriously, and she had to wipe her +glasses <!-- Page 113 --><a name='Page_113'></a>with her carefully folded handkerchief several times before +that last scene, when she was quite overcome.</p> + +<p>His catch phrase had been, "Oh! oh! how hungry I am!" and every time he +said it, she gave a little involuntary groan; but as he staggered on at +the last, thin as a bit of thread paper, hollow-cheeked, white-faced, +she indignantly exclaimed, "Well now, <i>that's</i> a shame!"</p> + +<p>The people laughed aloud; the comedian fixed his eyes upon her face, and +with hands pressed against his stomach groaned, "O-h! how hungry I am!" +and then she opened that bag and drew forth two long, twisted, fried +cakes, rose, stood on her tip-toes, and reaching them up to him +tearfully remarked:—</p> + +<p>"Here, you poor soul, take these. They are awful dry; but it's all I've +got with me."</p> + +<p>The audience fairly screamed; but poor and stranded as that company was, +the come<!-- Page 114 --><a name='Page_114'></a>dian was an artist, for he accepted the fried cakes, ate them +ravenously to the last crumb, and so kept well within the character he +was playing, without hurting the feelings of the kind-hearted, little +old woman.</p> + +<p>It's pleasant to know that that clever bit of acting attracted the +attention and gained the interest of a well-to-do gentleman, who was +present, and who next day helped the actors on their way to the city.</p> + +<p>A certain foreign actor once smilingly told me "I was a crank about my +American public." I took his little gibe in good part; for while he knew +foreign audiences, he certainly did <i>not</i> know American ones as well as +I, who have faced them from ocean to ocean, from British Columbia to +Florida. Two characteristics they all share in common,—intelligence and +fairness,—otherwise they vary as widely, have as many marked +peculiarities, as would so many individuals. New York and Boston are +<i>the</i> authorities <!-- Page 115 --><a name='Page_115'></a>this side of "the Great Divide," while San Francisco +sits in judgment by the blue Pacific.</p> + +<p>One never-to-be-forgotten night I went to a fashionable theatre in New +York City to see a certain English actress make her début before an +American audience, which at that time was considered quite an +interesting event, since there were but one or two of her countrywomen +over here then. The house was very full; the people were of the +brightest and the "smartest." I sat in a stage box and noted their +eagerness, their smiling interest.</p> + +<p>The curtain was up, there was a little dialogue, and then the stage door +opened. I dimly saw the actress spreading out her train ready to "come +on," the cue was given, a figure in pale blue and white appeared in the +doorway, stood for one single, flashing instant, then lurched forward, +and with a crash she measured her full length upon the floor.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 116 --><a name='Page_116'></a>The shocked "O-h-h" that escaped the audience might have come from one +pair of lips, so perfect was its spontaneity, and then dead and perfect +silence fell.</p> + +<p>The actress lay near but one single piece of furniture (she was alone in +the scene, unfortunately), and that was one of those frail, useless, +gilded trifles known as reception chairs. She reached out her hand, and +lifting herself by that, had almost reached her knee, when the chair +tipped under her weight, and they both fell together.</p> + +<p>It was awful. A deep groan burst from the people in the parquet. I saw +many women hide their eyes; men, with hands already raised to applaud, +kept the attitude rigidly, while their tight-pressed lips and frowning +brows showed an agony of sympathy. Then suddenly an arm was thrust +through the doorway; I knew it for the head carpenter's. Though in a +shirt sleeve, it was bare to the elbow, and not over clean, but strong +as a bough of living oak. She <!-- Page 117 --><a name='Page_117'></a>seized upon it and lifting herself, with +scarlet face and neck and breast, she stood once more upon her feet. And +then the storm broke loose; peal on peal of thunderous applause shook +the house. But four times in my life have I risked throwing flowers +myself; but that night mine were the first roses that fell at her feet. +She seemed dazed; quite distinctly I heard her say "off" to some one in +the entrance, "But what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>At last she came forward. She was plump almost to stoutness, but she +moved most gracefully. Her bow was greeted with long-continued applause. +Sympathy, courtesy, encouragement, welcome—all were expressed in that +general and enthusiastic outburst.</p> + +<p>"Why," said she after all was over, "at home they would have hissed me, +had that happened there."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed one who heard, "never; they could not be so cruel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered, "<i>afterward</i><!-- Page 118 --><a name='Page_118'></a> they might have applauded, but +not at first. Surely they would have hissed me."</p> + +<p>And with these words ringing in my ears, no wonder that, figuratively +speaking, I knelt at the feet of a New York audience and proudly kissed +its hand.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h2><!-- Page 119 --><a name='Page_119'></a><i>CHAPTER XI +<br /><br /> +STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>In the play of "Miss Multon" a number of children are required for the +first act. They are fortunately supposed to be the children of the poor, +and they come to a Christmas party. As I had that play in my +<i>repertoire</i> for several years, I naturally came in contact with a great +number of little people, and that's just what they generally were, +little men and women, with here and there at long intervals a <i>real</i> +child.</p> + +<p>They were of all kinds and qualities,—some well-to-do, some very poor, +some gentle and well-mannered, some wild as steers, some <!-- Page 120 --><a name='Page_120'></a>brazen-faced +and pushing, some sweet and shy and modest. I had one little child—a +mere tot—take hold of the ribbon with which I tied my cape and ask me +how much it was a yard; she also inquired about the quality of the +narrow lace edge on my handkerchief, and being convinced that it was +real, sharply told me to look out "it didn't get stoled." One little +girl came every night, as I sat waiting for my cue, to rub her fingers +up and down over the velvet collar of my cape. Touching the soft +yielding surface seemed to give her exquisite pleasure, and I caught the +same child standing behind me when I wore the rich red dress, holding +her hands up to it, as to a fire, for warmth. Poor little soul! she had +sensibility and imagination both.</p> + +<p>The play requires that one child should be very small; and as it was no +unusual thing for the little one to get frightened behind the scenes, I +used to come to the rescue, and as I found a question about "Mamma" won +<!-- Page 121 --><a name='Page_121'></a>their attention the quickest, I fell into the habit of saying, first +thing: "Where's mamma? Is she here? Show me, where." And having once won +attention, it had gone hard with me indeed had I failed to make friends +with the youngster.</p> + +<p>One Monday evening as I came to my place, I saw the new baby standing +all forlorn, with apparently no one at all to look after her, not even +one of the larger children. She was evidently on the very verge of +frightened tears, and from old habit I stooped down and said to her, +"Where's mamma, dear?"</p> + +<p>She lifted two startled blue eyes to my face and her lips began to +tremble. I went on, "Is mamma here?" The whole little face drew up in a +distressed pucker, and with gasps she whispered, "She's in er box."</p> + +<p>I raised my head and glanced across the stage. An old gentleman sat in +the box opposite, and I knew a merry young party had the one on our own +side, so I answered:<!-- Page 122 --><a name='Page_122'></a> "Oh, no, dear, mamma's not in the box; she's—" +when the poor baby cried, "Yes, she is, my mamma's in a box!" and buried +her curly head in the folds of my skirt and burst into sobs.</p> + +<p>At that moment a hard-voiced, hard-faced, self-sufficient girl pushed +forward, and explained in a patronizing way: "Oh, she's too little to +say it right. She ain't got no mother; she's dead, and it's the coffin +Annie means by the box."</p> + +<p>Oh, poor baby, left behind! poor little scrap of humanity!</p> + +<p>In another city the child was older, nearly five, but so very small that +she did nicely in the tiny trousers (it is a boy's part, as I should +have said before), and when the act was over, I kissed the brightly +pretty face and offered her a little gift. She put out her hand eagerly, +then swiftly drew it back again, saying, "It's money."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "It's for you, take it."</p> + +<a name='Little_breeches'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>"Little Breeches"</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 123 --><a name='Page_123'></a>She hung her head and murmured, "It's money, I dar'sent."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Cause we're too poor," she replied, which was certainly the oddest +reason I ever heard advanced for not accepting offered money. I was +compelled to hurry to my dressing-room to prepare for the next act; but +I saw with what disappointed eyes she followed me, and as I kept +thinking of her and her queer answer I told my maid to go out and see if +the pretty, very clean little girl was still there, and, if so, to send +her to my room. Presently a faint tap, low down on the door, told me my +expected visitor had arrived. Wide-eyed and smiling she entered, and +having some cough drops on my dressing-table, I did the honours. Cough +drops of strength and potency they were, too, but sweet, and therefore +acceptable to a small girl. She looked at them in her wistful way, and +then very prettily asked, "Please might she eat one right then?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 124 --><a name='Page_124'></a>I consented to that seemingly grave breach of etiquette, and then asked +if her mother was with her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Sam had brought her." (Sam was the gas man.)</p> + +<p>"Why," I went on, "did you not take that money, dear?" (her eyes +instantly became regretful). "Don't you want it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, ma'am," she eagerly answered. "Yes, ma'am, I want it, thank +you; but you see I might get smacked again—like I did last week."</p> + +<p>Our conversation at this embarrassing point was interrupted by the +appearance of Sam, who came for the little one. I sent her out with a +message for the maid, and then questioned Sam, who, red and apologetic, +explained that "the child had never seen no theatre before; but he knew +that the fifty cents would be a godsend to them all, and an honest +earned fifty cents, too, and he hoped the kid hadn't given me no +trouble," and he beamed when I said she was charming and so +well-mannered.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 125 --><a name='Page_125'></a>Yes," he reckoned, "they aimed to bring her up right. Yer see," he +went on, "her father's my pal, and he married the girl that—a +girl—well, the best kind of a girl yer can think of" (poor Sam), "and +they both worked hard and was gettin' along fine, until sickness come, +and then he lost his job, and it's plumb four months now that he's been +idle; and that girl, the wife, was thin as a rail, and they would die +all together in a heap before they'd let any one help 'em except with +work."</p> + +<p>"What," I asked, "did the child mean by getting a smacking last week?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," he answered, "the kid gets pretty hungry, I suppose, and t'other +day when she was playin' with the Jones child, there in the same house, +Mrs. Jones asks her to come in and have some dinner; and as she lifted +one of the covers from the cooking-stove, the kid says: 'My, you must be +awful rich, you make a fire at both ends of your stove at once. My mamma +only makes a fire <!-- Page 126 --><a name='Page_126'></a>under just one hole, 'cause we don't have anything +much to cook now 'cept tea.' The speech reached the mother's ears, and +she smacked the child for lettin' on to any one how poor they are. Lord, +no, Miss, she dar'sent take no money, though God knows they need it bad +enough."</p> + +<p>With dim eyes I hurriedly scribbled a line on a bit of wrapping paper, +saying:—"This little girl has played her part so nicely that I want her +to have something to remember the occasion by, and since I shall not be +in the city to-morrow, and cannot select anything myself, I must ask you +to act for me." Then I folded it about a green note, and calling back +the child, I turned her about and pinned both written message and money +to the back of her apron. The little creature understood the whole thing +in a flash. She danced about joyously: "Oh, Sam," she cried, "the lady's +gived me a present, and I can't help myself, can I?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 127 --><a name='Page_127'></a>And Sam wiped his hand on his breeches leg, and, clearing his throat +hard, asked "if I'd mind shakin' hands?"</p> + +<p>And I didn't mind it a bit. Then, with clumsy care, he wrapped the child +in her thin bit of a cape, and led her back to that home which gave +lodgement to both poverty and pride.</p> + +<p>While the play was new, in the very first engagement outside of New +York, I had a very little child for that scene. She was flaxen blond, +and her mother had dressed her in bright sky-blue, which was in itself +an odd colour for a little boy to wear. Then the small breeches were so +evidently mother-made, the tiny bits of legs surmounted with such an +enormous breadth of seat, the wee Dutch-looking blue jacket, and the +queer blue cap on top of the flaxen curls, gave the little creature the +appearance of a Dutch doll. The first sight of her, or, perhaps, I +should say "him," the first sight of him provoked a ripple of merriment; +but when <!-- Page 128 --><a name='Page_128'></a>he turned full about on his bits of legs and toddled up stage, +giving a full, perfect view of those trousers to a keenly observant +public, people laughed the tears into their eyes. And this baby noted +the laughter, and resented it with a thrust-out lip and a frowning knit +of his level brows that was funnier than even his blue clothing—and +after that one Parthian glance at the audience, he invariably toddled to +me, and hid his face in my dress. From the very first night the child +was called "Little Breeches," and to this day I know her by no other +name.</p> + +<p>Time passed by fast—so fast; years came, years went. "Miss Multon" had +been lying by for a number of seasons. "Renée de Moray," "Odette," +"Raymonde," etc., had been in use; then some one asked for "Miss +Multon," and she rose obediently from her trunk, took her manuscript +from the shelf, and presented herself at command. One evening, in a +Southern California city, as I left my room ready for the first act of +this <!-- Page 129 --><a name='Page_129'></a>play, the door-man told me a young woman had coaxed so hard to see +me, for just one moment, that ignoring orders he had come to ask me if +he might bring her in; she was not begging for anything, just a moment's +interview. Rather wearily I gave permission, and in a few moments I saw +him directing her toward me. A very slender, very young bit of a woman, +a mere girl, in fact, though she held in her arms a small white bundle. +As she came smilingly up to me, I perceived that she was very blond. I +bowed and said "Good evening" to her, but she kept looking in smiling +silence at me for a moment or two, then said eagerly, "Don't you know +me, Miss Morris?"</p> + +<p>I looked hard at her. "No," I said; "and if I have met you before, it's +strange, for while I cannot remember names, my memory for faces is +remarkable."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, in deep disappointment, "can't you remember me at +all—not at all?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 130 --><a name='Page_130'></a>Her face fell, she pushed out her nether lip, she knit her level, +flaxen brows.</p> + +<p>I leaned forward suddenly and touched her hand, saying, "You are +not—you can't be—my little—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," she answered delightedly. "I am Little Breeches."</p> + +<p>"And this?" I asked, touching the white bundle.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, "this is <i>my</i> Little Breeches; but I shan't dress him +in bright blue."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how old are you, and how old am I?"</p> + +<p>"Well," she replied, "I'm almost eighteen, and as you look just exactly +as you did when I saw you last, it doesn't matter, so far as I can see, +how many years have passed." (Oh, clever Little Breeches!)</p> + +<p>Then, having had Little Breeches 2d kissed and honestly admired, she +trotted away satisfied; and only as I made my entrance on the stage did +it occur to me that I had not asked her name; so she ends as she began, +simply Little Breeches.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h2><!-- Page 131 --><a name='Page_131'></a><i>CHAPTER XII +<br /><br /> +THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>In looking over my letters from the gentle "Unknown," I find that the +question, "What advantage has the stage over other occupations for +women?" is asked by a Mrs. Some One more often than by the more +impulsive and less thoughtful girl writer, and it is put with frequency +and earnestness.</p> + +<p>Of course there is nothing authoritative in these answers of mine, +nothing absolute. They are simply the opinion of one woman, founded upon +personal experience and obser<!-- Page 132 --><a name='Page_132'></a>vation. We must, of course, to begin +with, eliminate the glamour of the stage—that strange, false lustre, as +powerful as it is intangible—and consider acting as a practical +occupation, like any other. And then I find that in trying to answer the +question asked, I am compelled, after all, to turn to a memory.</p> + +<p>I had been on the stage two years when one day I met a schoolmate. Her +father had died, and she, too, was working; but she was bitterly envious +of my occupation. I earnestly explained the demands stage wardrobe made +upon the extra pay I drew; that in actual fact she had more money for +herself than I had. Again I explained that rehearsals, study, and +preparation of costumes required time almost equal to her working hours, +with the night work besides; but she would not be convinced.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you see," she cried, "I am at service, that means I'm a +dependant, I labour for another. You serve, yes, but you <!-- Page 133 --><a name='Page_133'></a>labour for +yourself," and lo! she had placed her stubby little finger upon the sore +spot in the working-woman's very heart, when she had divined that in the +independence of an actress lay her great advantage over other workers.</p> + +<p>Of course this independence is not absolute; but then how many men there +are already silver-haired at desk or bench or counter who are still +under the authority of an employer! Like these men, the actress's +independence is comparative; but measured by the bondage of other +working-women, it is very great. We both have duties to perform for +which we receive a given wage, yet there is a difference. The +working-girl is expected to be subservient, she is too often regarded as +a menial, she is ordered. An actress, even of small characters, is +considered a necessary part of the whole. She assists, she attends, she +obliges. Truly a difference.</p> + +<p>Again, women shrink with passionate re<!-- Page 134 --><a name='Page_134'></a>pugnance from receiving orders +from another woman; witness the rarity of the American domestic. A pity? +Yes; but what else can you expect? The Americans are a dominant race. +Free education has made all classes too nearly equal for one woman to +bend her neck willingly and accept the yoke of servitude offered by +another woman.</p> + +<p>And even this is spared to the actress, since her directions are more +often received from the stage manager or manager than from a woman star. +True, her life is hard, she has no home comforts; but, then, she has no +heavy duties to perform, no housework, bed-making, sweeping, +dish-washing, or clothes-washing, and when her work is done, she is her +own mistress. She goes and comes at her own will; she has time for +self-improvement, but best of all she has something to look forward to. +That is a great advantage over girls of other occupations, who have such +a small chance of advancement.</p> + +<p>Some impetuous young reader who speaks <!-- Page 135 --><a name='Page_135'></a>first and thinks afterward may +cry out that I am not doing justice to the profession of acting, even +that I discredit it in thus comparing it with humble and somewhat +mechanical vocations; so before I go farther, little enthusiasts, let me +remind you of the wording of this present query. It does not ask what +advantage has acting over other professions, over other arts, but "What +advantage has it over other occupations for women?"</p> + +<p>A very sweeping inquiry, you see; hence this necessary comparison with +shop, factory, and office work. As to the other professions, taking, for +instance, law or medicine, preparations for practice must be very +costly. A girl puts her family to a great strain to pay her college +expenses, or if some family friend advances funds, when she finally +passes all the dreaded examinations, and has the legal right to hang out +her shingle, she starts in the race of life handicapped with crushing +debts.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 136 --><a name='Page_136'></a>The theatre is, I think, the only place where a salary is paid to +students during all the time they are learning their profession; surely +a great, a wonderful advantage over other professions to be +self-sustaining from the first.</p> + +<p>Then the arts, but ah! life is short and art, dear Lord, art is long, +almost unto eternity. And she who serves it needs help, much help, and +then must wait, long and wearily, for the world's response and +recognition, that, even if they come, are apt to be somewhat uncertain, +unless they can be cut on a marble tomb; then they are quite positive +and hearty. But in the art of acting the response and recognition come +swift as lightning, sweet as nectar, while you are young enough to enjoy +and to make still greater efforts to improve and advance.</p> + +<p>So it seems to me the great advantage of acting over work is one's +independence, one's opportunity to improve oneself. Its advantage over +the professions is that it is self-<!-- Page 137 --><a name='Page_137'></a>sustaining from the start. Its +advantage over the arts is its swift reward for earnest endeavour.</p> + +<p>It must be very hard to endure the contempt so often bestowed upon the +woman who simply serves. I had a little taste of it once myself; and +though it was given me by accident, and apologies and laughter followed, +I remember quite well that even that tiny taste was distinctly +unpleasant—yes, and bitter. I was abroad with some very intimate +friends, and Mrs. P——, an invalid, owing to a mishap, was for some +days without a maid. We arrived in Paris hours behind time, late at +night, and went straight to our reserved rooms, seeing no one but some +sleepy servants.</p> + +<p>Early next morning, going to my friends' apartments, I came upon this +piteous sight: Mrs. P——, who had a head of curly hair, was not only +without a maid, but also without the use of her right arm. The fame of +Charcot had brought her to Paris. Unless she break<!-- Page 138 --><a name='Page_138'></a>fasted alone, which +she hated, her hair must be arranged. Behold, then, the emergency for +which her husband, Colonel P——, had, boldly not to say recklessly, +offered his services.</p> + +<p>I can see them now. She, with clenched teeth of physical suffering and +uplifted eye of the forgiving martyr, sat in combing jacket before him; +and he, with the maid's white apron girt tight about him just beneath +his armpits, had on his soldierly face an expression of desperate +resolve that suggested the leading of a forlorn hope. A row of hair-pins +protruded sharply from between his tightly closed lips; a tortoise-shell +back-comb, dangling from one side of his full beard where he placed it +for safety, made this amateur hairdresser a disturbing sight both for +gods and men.</p> + +<p>With legs well braced and far apart, his arms high lifted like outspread +wings, he wielded the comb after the manner of a man raking hay. For one +moment all my sym<!-- Page 139 --><a name='Page_139'></a>pathy was for the shrinking woman; then, when +suddenly, in despite of the delicious morning coolness, a great drop of +perspiration splashed from the Colonel's corrugated brow, down into the +obstreperous curly mass he wrestled with, I pitied him, too, and +cried:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll do that. Take care, you'll swallow a pin or two if you +contradict me. Your spirit is willing, Colonel, but your flesh, for all +you have such a lot of it, is weak, when you come to hair-dressing!"</p> + +<p>And regardless of his very earnest protest, I took the tangled, +tormented mass in hand and soon had it waving back into a fluffy knot; +and just as I was drawing forth some short locks for the forehead, there +came a knock and in bounced the mistress of the house, our landlady, +Mme. F——, who, missing our arrival the night before, came now to bid +us welcome and inquire as to our satisfaction with arrangements, etc. +She was a short woman, of surprising breadth and more sur<!-- Page 140 --><a name='Page_140'></a>prising +velocity of speech. She could pronounce more words to a single breath +than any other person I have ever met. She was German by birth, and +spoke French with a strong German accent, while her English was a thing +to wring the soul, sprinkled as it was with German "unds," "ufs," and +"yousts," and French "zees" and "zats." Our French being of the slow and +precise kind, and her English of the rattling and at first +incomprehensible type, the conversation was somewhat confused. But even +so, my friends noticed with surprise, that Madame did not address one +word of welcome to me. They hastened to introduce me, using my married +name.</p> + +<p>A momentary annoyance came into her face, then she dropped her lids +haughtily, swept me from head to foot with one contemptuous glance, and +without even the faintest nod in return to my "Bon jour, Madame," she +turned to Mrs. P——, who, red with indignation, was trying to sputter +<!-- Page 141 --><a name='Page_141'></a>out a demand for an explanation, and asked swiftly:—</p> + +<p>"Und zat ozzer lady? you vas to be t'ree—n'est-ce pas? She hav' not +com' yed? to-morrow, perhaps, und—und" (I saw what was coming, but my +companions suspected nothing), "und"—she dropped her lids again and +indicated me with a contemptuous movement of the head—"she, zat maid, +you vant to make arrange for her? You hav' not write for room for zat +maid?"</p> + +<p>I leaned from the window to hide my laughter, for it seemed to me that +Colonel P—— jumped a foot, while the cry of his wife drowned the sound +of the short, warm word that is of great comfort to angry men. Before +they could advance one word of explanation, an aproned waiter fairly +burst into the room, crying for "Madame! Madame! to come quick, for that +Jules was at it very bad again!" And she wildly rushed out, saying over +her shoulder, "By und by we zee for zat maid, und about zat udder lady, +by <!-- Page 142 --><a name='Page_142'></a>und by also," and so departed at a run with a great rattling of +starch and fluttering of cap ribbons; for Jules, the head cook, already +in the first stages of delirium tremens, was making himself interesting +to the guests by trying to jump into the fountain basin to save the +lives of the tiny ducklings, who were happily swimming there, and Madame +F—— was sorely needed.</p> + +<p>Yes, I laughed—laughed honestly at the helpless wrath of my friends, +and pretended to laugh at the mistake; but all the time I was saying to +myself, "Had I really been acting as maid, how cruelly I should have +suffered under that contemptuous glance and from that withheld bow of +recognition." She had found me well-dressed, intelligent, and +well-mannered; yet she had insulted me, because she believed me to be a +lady's maid. No wonder women find service bitter.</p> + +<p>We had retired from the breakfast room and were arranging our plans for +the day, when a sort of whirlwind came rushing <!-- Page 143 --><a name='Page_143'></a>through the hall, the +door sprang open almost without a pronounced permission, and Madame +F—— flung herself into the room, caught my hands in hers, pressed them +to her heart, to her lips, to her brow, wept in German, in French, in +English, and called distractedly upon "Himmel!" "Ciel!" and "Heaven!" +But she found her apologies so coldly received by my friends that she +was glad to turn the flood of her remorse in my direction, and for very +shame of the scene she was making I assured her the mistake was quite +pardonable—as it was. It was her manner that was almost unpardonable. +Then she added to my discomfort by bursting out with fulsome praise of +me as an actress; how she had seen me and wept, and so on and on, she +being only at last walked and talked gently out of the room.</p> + +<p>But that was not the end of her remorse. A truly French bouquet with its +white paper petticoat arrived in about an hour, "From the so madly +mistooken Madame F——," the <!-- Page 144 --><a name='Page_144'></a>card read, and that act of penance was +performed every morning as long as I remained in Paris. But one day she +appealed to the Colonel for pity and sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said she, "I hav' zee two tr'ubles, zee two sorrows! I hav' zee +grief to vound zee feelin's of zat so fine actrice Americaine—zat ees +one tr'ubles, und den I hav' zee shame to mak' zat grande fool +meestak'—oh, mon Dieu! I tak' her for zee maid, und zare my most great +tr'uble come in! I hav' no one with zee right to keek me—to keek me +hard from zee back for being such a fool. I say mit my husband dat +night, 'Vill you keek me hard, if you pleas'?' Mais, he cannot, he hav' +zee gout in zee grande toe, und he can't keek vurth one sou!—und zat is +my second tr'uble!"</p> + +<p>Behind her broad back the Colonel confessed that had she expressed such +a wish on the occasion of the mistake, he would willingly have obliged +her, as he was quite free from gout.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 145 --><a name='Page_145'></a>So any woman who goes forth to win her living as an actress will at +least be spared the contemptuous treatment bestowed on me in my short +service as an amateur lady's maid.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 146 --><a name='Page_146'></a><i>CHAPTER XIII +<br /><br /> +THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>What is the bane of a young actress's life?</p> + +<p>Under the protection of pretty seals stamped in various tints of wax, I +find one question appearing in many slightly different forms. A large +number of writers ask, "What is the greatest difficulty a young actress +has to surmount?" In another pile of notes the question appears in this +guise, "What is the principal obstacle in the way of the young actress?" +While two motherly bodies ask, "What one thing worries an actress the +most?" After due thought I have cast them all together, boiled them +down, and reduced them to this, "What is the bane of a <!-- Page 147 --><a name='Page_147'></a>young actress's +life?" which question I can answer without going into training, with one +hand tied behind me, and both eyes bandaged, answer in one +word—<i>dress</i>. Ever since that far-away season when Eve, the beautiful, +inquiring, let-me-see-for-myself Eve, made fig leaves popular in Eden, +and invented the apron to fill a newly felt want, dress has been at once +the comfort and the torment of woman.</p> + +<p>Acting is a matter of pretence, and she who can best pretend a splendid +passion, a tender love, or a murderous hate, is admittedly the finest +actress. Time was when stage wardrobe was a pretence, too. An actress +was expected to please the eye, she was expected to be historically +correct as to the shape and style of her costume; but no one expected +her queenly robes to be of silk velvet, her imperial ermine to be +anything rarer than rabbit-skin. My own earliest ermine was humbler +still, being constructed of the very democratic white canton <!-- Page 148 --><a name='Page_148'></a>flannel +turned wrong side out, while the ermine's characteristic little black +tails were formed by short bits of round shoe-lacing. The only advantage +I can honestly claim for this domestic ermine is its freedom from the +moths, who dearly love imported garments of soft fine cloth and rare +lining. I have had and have seen others have, in the old days, really +gorgeous brocades made by cutting out great bunches of flowers from +chintz and applying them to a cheaper background, and then picking out +the high lights with embroidery silk, the effect being not only +beautiful, but rich. All these make-believes were necessary then, on a +$30 or $35 a week salary, for a leading lady drew no more.</p> + +<a name='Jane_Eyre'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris as "Jane Eyre"</i>]</p> + +<p>But times are changed, stage lighting is better, stronger. The opera +glass is almost universally used, deceptions would be more easily +discovered; and more, oh, so much more is expected from the actress of +to-day. Formerly she was required, first of all, to sink her own +individuality in that of the <!-- Page 149 --><a name='Page_149'></a>woman she pretended to be; and next, if +it was a dramatized novel she was acting in, she was to make herself +look as nearly like the described heroine as possible; otherwise she had +simply to make herself as pretty as she knew how in her own way, that +was all. But now the actresses of a great city are supposed to set the +fashion for the coming season. They almost literally dress in the style +of to-morrow: thus the cult of clothes becomes harmful to the actress. +Precious time that should be given to the minute study, the final +polishing of a difficult character, is used instead in deciding the +pitch of a skirt, the width of a collar, or open sleeve-strap, or no +sleeve at all.</p> + +<p>Some ladies of my acquaintance who had been to the theatre three times, +avowedly to study as models the costumes, when questioned as to the +play, looked at one another and then answered vaguely: "The performance? +Oh, nothing remarkable! It was fair enough; but the dresses! They are +<!-- Page 150 --><a name='Page_150'></a>really beyond anything in town, and must have cost a mint of money!"</p> + +<p>So we have got around to the opposite of the old-time aim, when the +answer might possibly have been: "The acting was beyond anything in +town. The dresses? Nothing remarkable! Oh, well, fair enough!"</p> + +<p>I have often been told by famous women of the past that the beautiful +Mrs. Russell, then of Wallack's Theatre, was the originator in this +country of richly elegant realism in stage costuming. When it was known +that the mere linings of her gowns cost more than the outside of other +dresses; that all her velvet was silk velvet; all her lace to the last +inch was real lace; that no wired nor spliced feathers curled about her +splendid leghorns, only magnificent single plumes, each worth weeks of +salary, this handsome woman, superbly clad, created a sensation, but +alas! at the same time, she unconsciously scattered seed behind her that +<!-- Page 151 --><a name='Page_151'></a>sprang up into a fine crop of dragon's teeth for following young +actresses to gather. <i>Qui donne le menu, donne la faim!</i> And right here +let me say, I am not of those who believe the past holds a monopoly of +all good things. I have much satisfaction in the present, and a strong +and an abiding faith in the future, and even in this matter of dress, +which has become such an anxiety to the young actress, I would not ask +to go back to those days of primitive costuming. In Shakespere's day +there appeared over a "drop," or curtain of green, a legend plainly +stating, "This is a street in Verona," and every man with an imagination +straightway saw the Veronese street to his complete satisfaction; but +there were those who had no imagination, and to hold their attention and +to keep their patronage, scenes had to be painted for them. One would +not like to see a woman draped in plain grey with an attached placard +saying, "This is a ball gown" or "This is a Coronation robe," the +<!-- Page 152 --><a name='Page_152'></a>imagination would balk at it. But there is a far cry between that and +the real Coronation robe of velvet, fur, and jewels. What I would ask +for is moderation, and above all freedom for the actress from the burden +of senseless extravagance which is being bound upon her shoulders—not +by the public, not even by the manager, but by the mischievous small +hands of sister actresses, who have private means outside of their +salaries. How generous they would be if they could be content to dress +with grace and elegance while omitting the mad extravagance that those +who are dependent upon their salaries alone will surely try to emulate, +and sometimes at what a price, dear Heaven, at what a price!</p> + +<p>Let us say an actress plays the part of a woman of fashion—of rank. As +she makes her first appearance, she is supposed to have returned from +the opera. Therefore, though she may wear them but one moment, hood and +opera cloak are needed because they will help out the illusion. Suppose, +then, <!-- Page 153 --><a name='Page_153'></a>she wears a long cloak of velvet or cloth, with a lining of +delicate tinted quilted satin or fur; if the impression of warmth or +elegance and comfort is given, its work has been well done. But suppose +the actress enters in an opera cloak of such gorgeous material that the +elaborate embroidery on it seems an impertinence—a creation lined with +the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real +lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels—what happens? The cloak pushes +forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob +this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak +whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its +beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten +to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of +that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama.</p> + +<p>Extravagance is inartistic—so for that <!-- Page 154 --><a name='Page_154'></a>reason I could wish for +moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be +to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for +the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when, +during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five +dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes +for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my +gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the +dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc., +and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up +fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and +they will come to see the new dresses."</p> + +<p>And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are +acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I +can't object <!-- Page 155 --><a name='Page_155'></a>any longer. You see, I was under the impression people +came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me +my error."</p> + +<p>For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our +unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am +surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I +surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the +open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial +revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for +me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after +one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill.</p> + +<p>Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she +could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her—that is very +bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and <!-- Page 156 --><a name='Page_156'></a>when +the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more +than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest +fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, +fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists +joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best +hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now.</p> + +<p>So the young actress—unless she has some little means, aside from a +salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke +that salary out—is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; +for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and +besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the +poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs.</p> + +<p>Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I +think, <!-- Page 157 --><a name='Page_157'></a>have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming +pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in +her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her +$200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 +parasol."</p> + +<p>Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or +beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious +one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those +flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a +spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become +necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is +forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes +were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply +pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter +envy and <!-- Page 158 --><a name='Page_158'></a>fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the +mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their +owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the +under girl, in the struggle for clothes!</p> + +<p>In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe +for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and +shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes +of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite +taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for +production after production, it would seem that the management must +share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very +much higher than they were a few years ago.</p> + +<p>In France the stage, no doubt, partly fills the place of the departed +court in presenting new fashions to the public eye, doing it with the +graceful aplomb that <!-- Page 159 --><a name='Page_159'></a>has carried many a doubtful innovation on to sure +success. Those beautiful and trained artists take pleasure in first +presenting the style other women are to follow, and yet they share the +honour (?) with another class, whose most audacious follies in dress, +while studied from the corner of a downcast eye, are nevertheless often +slavishly followed.</p> + +<p>How many of the thousands of women, who years ago wore the large, +flaring back, felt hat, knew they were following the whim of a woman +known to the half-world as Cora Pearl? Not pretty, but of a very +beautiful figure, and English by birth, she was, one might say, of +course, a good horse-woman. She banqueted late one night—so late that +dawn was greying the windows and the sodden faces of her guests when +they began to take leave. She had indulged in too much wine for comfort; +her head was hot. She was seized with one of the wild whims of her +lawless class—she <!-- Page 160 --><a name='Page_160'></a>would mount then and there and ride in the Bois. +Remonstrances chilled her whim to iron will. Horses were sent for, her +maid aroused. She flung on her habit, and held her hand out for her +chapeau. There was none.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle should recall the new riding hat had been too small, had +been returned for blocking."</p> + +<p>"Tres bien, le vieux donc, vite!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mon Dieu, il fut donné." A quick blow stopped further explanation.</p> + +<p>"Quelle que cruche, que cette fille," then a moment's silence, a roving +about of the small hot eyes, and with a bound she tore from an American +artist's hand his big soft felt hat. Turning the flapping brim up, she +fastened it to the crown in three places with jewelled pins, tore a +bunch of velvet from her dinner corsage, secured it directly in front, +and clapping the hat on the back of her head, dashed downstairs and was +in the saddle with a scrabble <!-- Page 161 --><a name='Page_161'></a>and a bound, and away like mad, followed +by two men, who were her unwilling companions. Riding longer than she +had intended, she returned in broad daylight. All Paris was agog over +her odd head gear. Her impudent, laughing face caught their fancy yet +again, and she trotted down from the Arc de Triomphe between two +rippling little streams of comment and admiration, with, "Comme elle est +belle!" "Quelle aplomb!" "Matin, quelle chic!" "Elle est forte +gentille!" "C'est le coup de grace!" "Le chapeau! le chapeau!" "La belle +Pearl! la belle Pearl!" reaching her distinctly at every other moment.</p> + +<p>And that was the origin of the back-turned, broad-brimmed hat that had +such vogue before the arrival of the Gainsborough or picture hat.</p> + +<p>If I were a young actress, I would rather be noted for acting than for +originating a new style of garment; but it is a free country, thank God, +and a big one, with <!-- Page 162 --><a name='Page_162'></a>room for all of us, whatever our preferences. And +though the young actress has the clothes question heavy on her mind now, +and finds it hard to keep up with others and at the same time out of +debt, she has the right to hope that by and by she will be so good an +actress, and so valuable to the theatre, that a fat salary will make the +clothes matter play second fiddle, as is right and proper it should, to +the question of fine acting.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h2><!-- Page 163 --><a name='Page_163'></a><i>CHAPTER XIV +<br /><br /> +THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Thousands of persons who do not themselves use slang understand and even +appreciate it. The American brand is generally pithy, compact, and +expressive, and not always vulgar. Slang is at its worst in contemptuous +epithets, and of those the one that is lowest and most offensive seems +likely to become a permanent, recognized addition to the language. No +more vulgar term exists than "masher," and it is a distinct comfort to +find Webster ascribing the <!-- Page 164 --><a name='Page_164'></a>origin of the word to England's reckless +fun-maker,—<i>Punch</i>.</p> + +<p>Beaux, bucks, lady-killers, Johnnies,—all these terms have been applied +at different periods to the self-proclaimed fascinator of women, and +to-day we will use some one, any of them, rather than that +abomination,—masher. Nor am I "puttin' on scallops and frills," as the +boys say. I know a good thing when I hear it, as when a very much +overdressed woman entered a car, and its first sudden jerk broke her +gorgeous parasol, while its second flung her into the arms of the +ugliest, fattest man present and whirled her pocket-book out of the +window, I knew that the voice of conviction that slowly said, "Well, she +is up against it," slangily expressed the unfortunate woman's exact +predicament. Oh, no, I'm not "puttin' on frills," I am only objecting +with all my might and main to a term, as well as to the contemptible +creature indicated by it,—masher.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 165 --><a name='Page_165'></a>In a certain school, long ago, there was a very gentle, tender-hearted +teacher, who was also the comforter and peacemaker of her flock. +Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one +else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, +and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the +teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks +of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent +floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue +and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, +"There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll +all be quite happy." I am sure we all thought that it was the eleventh +commandment, "Not to say anything more about it."</p> + +<p>Now every one of us suffered more or less from our encounters with the +multiplication table. Of course <i>fives</i> and <i>tens</i> were at a +<!-- Page 166 --><a name='Page_166'></a>premium—even very stupid little girls could get through them, and +<i>twos</i> were not so bad, but the rest of the tables were tear-washed +daily. <i>Sevens</i> were, however, my own especial nightmare—even to this +day my fingers instinctively begin to move when I multiply any figure by +seven. Standing in class on the platform, the <i>sevens</i> one day fell to +me. Being charged to put my hands before me, that I should not by chance +forget and count by their aid, I staggered and reeled through the table +so far as seven times seven, when, moistening my lips, I hoarsely +whispered, "Forty-nine," and the shock of finding the answer correct +destroyed me utterly. Seven times eight was anything they liked in +figures, and so I recklessly cried out, "Oh, sixty-two, I guess," and +burst into tears. Recess came, and I would not move from my desk; and +then the teacher dried my tears on her own cool, sweet handkerchief, and +was comforting me as best she could, when suddenly I stole her <!-- Page 167 --><a name='Page_167'></a>thunder +by pressing my damp cheek to hers and saying eagerly, "Don't let us say +anything more about the <i>sevens</i>, Miss Sands, and then we'll all be +quite happy."</p> + +<p>Poor little tots! Poor multiplication table! and now, oh, how I would +like to cry, "Don't let us say anything more about the masher, and then +we'll all be quite happy;" but to calm the needless fears of many, let +me say at once, the creature is a nuisance, but not a danger. The +stealthy, crafty, determined pursuer of the young and honest actress is +a product of the imagination. These "Johnnies" who hang about stage +doors and send foolish and impertinent notes to the girlhood of the +stage are not in love—they are actuated by vanity, pure and simple. +These young "taddies," with hair carefully plastered down, are as like +one another as are the peas of one pod,—each wishes to be considered a +very devil of a fellow; but how can that be unless he is recognized as a +fascinator of women, a masher; <!-- Page 168 --><a name='Page_168'></a>and the quickest way to obtain that +reputation is to be seen supping or driving with pretty actresses.</p> + +<p>One of the odd things of the professional life is that in the artistic +sense you are not considered an "actress" until you have shown some +merit, have done some good, honest work; but for the purposes of gossip +or scandal, ballet girls, chorus girls, or figurantes become actresses +full fledged. Mammas and aunties of would-be young artists seem to have +made a veritable bogy-man of this would-be lady-killer. What nonsense! +Any well-brought-up young woman, respecting the proprieties, can protect +herself from the attentions of this walking impertinence. Letters are +his chief weapon. If they are signed, it is easy to return them, if one +cares to take so much trouble. A gift would be returned; if sent without +a signature, it need not be shown nor worn. If the creature presumes to +hang about the stage door, a word of complaint to the manager will be +<!-- Page 169 --><a name='Page_169'></a>sufficient; the "masher" will at once "take notice" of some other door +and probably of some other actress. But I am asked, Why does he exist? +And I suppose he could not if he were not encouraged, and there does +exist a certain body of girls who think it great fun to get a jolly +supper or a ride to the races out of the Johnny's pocket-book. Wait, +now; please don't jump instantly to the conclusion that these chorus or +ballet girls are thoroughly bad because they smash to smithereens the +conventional laws regulating the conduct of society girls. Most of them, +on the contrary, are honest and, knowing how to take care of themselves, +will risk hearing a few impudent, wounding words rather than lose one +hour of merriment their youth craves. Of course this is not as it should +be, but these girls are pretty; life has been hard; delicate +sensibilities have not been cultivated in them. Before we harshly +condemn, let us first bow to that rough honesty that will <!-- Page 170 --><a name='Page_170'></a>defend +itself, if need be, with a blow. A refined girl would never put herself +in a position requiring such drastic measures; but it is, I think, to +these reckless young wretches, and a few silly, sentimental simpletons +who permit themselves to be drawn into a mawkish correspondence with +perfect strangers, that we really owe the continued existence of the +stage-door "masher," who wishes to be mistaken for a member of the +<i>jeunesse dorée</i>.</p> + +<p>But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another +reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over +is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising +artist, Miss G——, is not his style. He is not looking for brains, +"don't yer know." He fancies No. 3 in the second row, she with the +flashing eyes and teeth; or No. 7 in the front row, that has the cutest +kick in the whole crowd. And his cheap and common letters of fulsome +compliment and <!-- Page 171 --><a name='Page_171'></a>invitation go to her accordingly. But the daring little +free lance who accepts these attentions pays a high price for the bit of +supper that is followed by gross impertinences. One would think that the +democratic twenty-five-cent oyster stew, and respect therewith, would +taste better than the small bird and the small bottle with insult as a +<i>demi-tasse</i>. Then, too, she loses caste at once; for it is not enough +that a girl should not do evil: she must also avoid the appearance of +evil. She will be judged by the character of her companions, and a few +half-hearted denials, a shrug of the shoulders, a discreetly suppressed +smile, will place her among the list of his "mashes." Oh, hideous word!</p> + +<p>Of course, now and again, at long, long intervals, a man really falls in +love with a woman whom he has seen only upon the stage; but no "masher" +proceedings are taken in such cases. On the other hand, very determined +efforts are made to locate <!-- Page 172 --><a name='Page_172'></a>the actress's family or friends, and through +them to be properly presented.</p> + +<p>Believing, as I did, that every girl had a perfect right to humiliate a +"masher" to the extent of her ability, I once went, it's hard to admit +it, but really I did go, too far in reprisal. Well, at all events, I was +made to feel rather ashamed of myself. We were presenting "Alixe" at Mr. +Daly's Broadway Theatre, just after the fire, and the would-be +lady-killer was abroad in the land and unusually active. There was +seldom a night that some one was not laughing contemptuously or frowning +fiercely over a "drop letter," as we called them. One evening my box +held a most inflammable communication. It was not written upon club +paper, nor had it any private monogram; in fact, it was on legal cap. +The hand was large, round, and laboriously distinct. The i's were +dotted, the t's crossed with painful precision, while toward capitals +and punctuation marks the writer showed <!-- Page 173 --><a name='Page_173'></a>more generosity than +understanding. His sentiment and romance were of the old-time rural +type, and I am certain he longed to quote, "The rose is red, the +violet's blue." I might have been a little touched but for the +signature. I loathed the faintest hint of anonymity, and simply could +not bring myself to believe that any man really and truly walked up and +down the earth bearing the name of Mr. A. Fix. Yet that was the +signature appended to the long, rapturous love-letter. I gave it a pitch +into the waste-basket and dressed for the play. Of course I spoke of the +name, and of course it was laughed at; but three nights later another +letter came—oh, well, it was just a letter. The writer was very +diffuse, and evidently had plenty of paper and ink and time at his +disposal. He dwelt on his sufferings as each day passed without a letter +from me. He explained just what efforts he had made, vainly made, to +secure sleep each night. He did not live in a large <!-- Page 174 --><a name='Page_174'></a>city when at home, +and he described how nearly he had come to being run over in trying to +cross our biggest street—while thinking of me. Oh, Mr Fix! He bravely +admitted he was due at the store out home, but he kept a-thinking I +might not have got that first letter, or maybe I wanted to look him over +before writing. So he had waited and was coming to the theatre that very +night, and his seat was in the balcony,—No. 3, left side, front +row,—and for fear I might not feel quite sure about him, he would hold +high to his face, in his left hand, a large white handkerchief.</p> + +<p>It didn't seem to occur to him that such an attitude would give him a +very grief-stricken aspect; he only desired to give me a fair chance "to +look him over." Without a second thought, I read that portion of the +letter in the greenroom, and the laughter had scarcely died away when +that admirable actor, but perfectly fiendish player of tricks, Louis +James, was going quietly from <!-- Page 175 --><a name='Page_175'></a>actor to actor arranging for the downfall +of A. Fix.</p> + +<p>So it happened that James, Clarke, and Lewis, instead of entering in a +group, came on in Indian file, each holding in the left hand a large +pocket-handkerchief. I being already on the stage, there was of course a +line spread of canvas in the balcony. The audience, ever quick to catch +on to a joke, seeing each man glance upward, followed suit, spied the +enormous handkerchief held high in the left hand, and realizing the +situation, burst into hilarious laughter. Uselessly I pleaded; at every +possible opportunity the white handkerchief appeared in some left hand, +while the stage manager vainly wondered why the audience laughed in such +unseemly places that night.</p> + +<p>The next day that young person, whom I had treated as a common "masher," +heaped a whole shovelful of hot, hot coals upon my guilty head by +writing me a letter less carefully dotted and crossed, somewhat more +<!-- Page 176 --><a name='Page_176'></a>confused in metaphor than before, but beginning with: "I am afraid you +are cruel. I think you must have betrayed me to your mates, for I do not +remember that they did such things before last night with their +handkerchiefs."</p> + +<p>Then, after telling me his home address, his business, and his exact +standing socially, he laid these specially large hot coals carefully +upon my brow, "So, though you make a laughing-stock of me, now don't +think I shall be mad about it; but remember if any trouble or sickness +comes to you, no matter how far from now, if you will just write me one +word, I'll help you to my plumb last cent," and truly Mr. Fix left me +ashamed and sorry.</p> + +<p>He had suffered for his name, which I believed to be an assumed one. +Poor young man, I offer an apology to his memory.</p> + +<p>One scamp wrote so brazenly, so persistently, demanding answers to be +sent to a certain prominent club, that I one day laid the letters before +Mr. Daly, and he adver<!-- Page 177 --><a name='Page_177'></a>tised in the theatre programme that "if Mr. +B.M.B., of such a club, would call at the box office, he would receive +not the answer he expected, but the one he deserved," and Mr. Daly was +highly delighted when he heard that B.M.B., who was a "masher" <i>par +excellence</i>, had been literally chaffed out of the club rooms.</p> + +<p>Those creatures that, like poisonous toadstools, spring up at street +corners to the torment of women, should be taken in hand by the police, +since they encumber the streets and are a menace and a mortification to +female citizens. Let some brazen woman take the place of one of these +street "mashers," and proceed to ogle passers-by, and see how quickly +the police would gather her in.</p> + +<p>But so far as the stage "masher" is concerned, dear and anxious mamma, +auntie, or sister, don't worry about the safety of your actress to be. +The "masher" is an impertinence, a nuisance; but never, dear madam, +never a danger.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h2><!-- Page 178 --><a name='Page_178'></a><i>CHAPTER XV +<br /><br /> +SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>"What social conditions exist behind the scenes?"</p> + +<p>This fourth question is one that Charles Dickens would have called an +"agriwator," and as it is repeated every now and again, I ask myself +where is the curiosity about the theatre, its people, and its life to +end? The question is, What social conditions exist behind the scenes? +Now to be quite frank, the first few times this query appeared, I was +distinctly aggravated. I said to myself, do these ladies and +gentlemen—yes, three males are in this inquiring group—do they think +we are a people so apart from all others that we require a separate and +dis<!-- Page 179 --><a name='Page_179'></a>tinctly different social code; that we know nothing of the law +governing the size, style, and use of the visiting card; that +congratulations, condolences, are unknown rites; that invitations, +acceptances, and regrets are ancient Hebrew to us, and calls, teas, +dinners, and dances are exalted functions far above our comprehension? +And then I read the question again, and saw I was making a ninny of +myself—an easy thing to do with the thermometer at ninety-nine in the +shade. That it said "behind the scenes," and with a laugh I recalled the +little child who had delightedly witnessed her first Christmas +pantomime; and being told afterward I was one of the people of the play, +she watched and listened eagerly some time before coming and resting a +dimpled hand on mine, to ask disappointedly, "Please, does all the +actin' people have 'emselves jes' same as any one?"</p> + +<p>Poor blue-eyed tot, she had expected at least a few twirls about the +room, a few <!-- Page 180 --><a name='Page_180'></a>bounds and hand kisses; and here I was "'having" just like +any one. So all my mistaken vexation gone, I'll try to make plain our +social condition behind the scenes.</p> + +<p>In the first place, then, a theatrical company is almost exactly like +one large family. Our feeling for one another is generally one of warm +good-fellowship. In our manners there is an easy familiarity which we +would not dream of using outside of our own little company circle. We +are a socially inclined people, communicative, fond of friendly +conversation, and hopelessly given over to jokes, or, as we put it, "to +guying."</p> + +<p>But don't imagine there's any <i>socialism</i> about a theatre that means +community of property and association; on the contrary, we enter into +the keenest competition with one another.</p> + +<p>I dare say an outsider, as the non-professional has been termed time out +of mind, watching our conduct for a few days and nights, would conclude +that, though quite <!-- Page 181 --><a name='Page_181'></a>harmless, we are all a little <i>mad</i>. For the actor's +funny habit of injecting old, old lines of old, old plays into his +everyday conversation must be somewhat bewildering to the uninitiated:—</p> + +<p>If an elderly, heavy breathing, portly gentleman, lifting his hat to a +gentle, dignified little lady, remarks, "Beshrew me, but I do love thee +still. Isn't it hot this morning; take this chair." Or if a very slender +pop-eyed young comedian, while wiping his brow, says, "Now could I drink +hot blood and hold it not a sin," and some one else calmly answers, "You +haven't got those words right, and you couldn't drink anything hot +to-day without having a fit." Or if two big, stalwart men, meeting in +the "entrance," fall suddenly into each other's arms, with a cry of +"Camille!" "Armand!" Or if a man enters the greenroom with his hat on, +and a half-dozen people call, "Do you take this for an ale-house, that +you can enter with such a swagger?" and the hat comes off with a +<!-- Page 182 --><a name='Page_182'></a>laughing apology. Or if the man with the cane is everlastingly +practising "carte and tierce" on somebody, or doing a broadsword fight +with any one who has an umbrella. If a woman passes with her eyes cast +down, reading a letter, and some one says, "In maiden meditation, fancy +free." If she eats a sandwich at a long rehearsal, and some one +instantly begins, "A creature not too bright nor good for human nature's +daily food." If she appears in a conspicuously new gown and some one +cries, "The riches of the ship have come on shore," ten to one she +replies, "A poor thing, but mine own."</p> + +<p>These things will look and sound queer and flighty to the outsider, who, +not acquainted with the lines or the plays they are from, cannot of +course see how aptly some of them adapt themselves to the situation. But +this one is plain to all. A young girl, who was a very careless dresser, +was trailing along the "entrance" one evening, <!-- Page 183 --><a name='Page_183'></a>when behind her the +leading man, quoting Juliet, remarked, "'Thou knowest the mask of night +is on my cheek,' or I would not dare tell you your petticoat is coming +off;" a perfect gale of laughter followed, in which the little sloven +joined heartily.</p> + +<p>Then one morning, rehearsal being dismissed, I was hurrying away, +intending to enjoy a ride on horse-back, when Mr. Davidge, Mr. Daly's +"old man," lifting his hat politely, and twisting Macbeth's words very +slightly, remarked, "I wish your horse swift and sure of foot, and so I +do commend you to its back," and as I laughed, "Macbeth, Act III," we +parted in mutual admiration for each other's knowledge of the great +play.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen are attentive to the ladies' small needs, providing seats +when possible, bringing a wrap, a glass of water, fanning you if you are +warm, carrying your long train if it is heavy; but never, never losing +the chance to play a joke on you if they can.</p> + +<p>There is generally some ringleader of <!-- Page 184 --><a name='Page_184'></a>greenroom fun; for most actors +are very impatient of "waits" between the scenes, and would rather pass +such time in pranks than in quiet conversation. On one occasion some of +the actors had made noise enough to reach the managerial ear, and they +were forfeited. The actresses laughed at their discomfiture, and revenge +was at once in order. Next night, then, four young men brought bits of +calico and threaded needles with them, and when their "wait" came, they +all sat quietly in a row and sewed steadily. The sight was so ludicrous +the women went off into unbounded laughter, and were in their turn +forfeited.</p> + +<p>Nothing excuses the use of swear words behind the scenes, and even a +very mild indulgence is paid for by a heavy forfeit. One actor, not too +popular with the company, used always to be late, and coming into the +dressing room, he would fling everything about and knock things over, +causing any amount of annoyance to his room-mates.<!-- Page 185 --><a name='Page_185'></a> He went on in but +one act, the third, and the lateness of the hour made his lack of +business promptitude the more marked. A joke was, of course, in order, +and a practical joke at that.</p> + +<p>One evening he was extra late, and that was the opportunity of the +joking room-mates. They carefully dropped some powerful, strong-holding +gum into the heels of his patent leather shoes, and had barely put them +in place, when the ever-late actor was heard coming on the run down the +passage. In he tore, flinging things right and left, overturning +make-ups, and knocking down precious silk hats. He grabbed his shoes, +jammed his foot into one, scowled and exclaimed disgustedly, "What the +deuce! there's something in this shoe. Bah," he went on, "and in this +one, too!"</p> + +<p>"Take them off and shake 'em," suggested the dropper of the gum.</p> + +<p>"No time," growled the victim; "I'll get docked if I'm a second late. +But these con<!-- Page 186 --><a name='Page_186'></a>founded things feel damp in the heels," and he kicked and +stamped viciously.</p> + +<p>"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the +heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now, +personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like—like a +china nest-egg, don't you know; but <i>damp heels</i>, it doesn't sound +right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!"</p> + +<p>And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you +spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then +asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place, +"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?"</p> + +<p>"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I +have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This +while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy <!-- Page 187 --><a name='Page_187'></a>known in +its fulness to the practical joker alone.</p> + +<a name='Sphinx'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"</i>]</p> + +<p>The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment +his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could +scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried +nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the +street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas, +alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint, +his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck, +it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,—that +they brought both sock and skin with them.</p> + +<p>Three men, with tears in their eyes, had pencils, and kept tally of his +remarks as he danced about after each frantic tug at a glued-on shoe. +One took down every wounding, malicious word. A second caught and +preserved every defamatory word. While the third and busiest one secured +every <!-- Page 188 --><a name='Page_188'></a>profane word that fell from his enraged lips.</p> + +<p>Finally he poured the contents of the alcohol bottle into his shoes and, +swearing like a madman, waited for the gum to soften. And the manager, +who was not deaf, proved that his heart was harder than the best gum and +could not be softened at all. And to this day no member of the company +knows how much of the victim's salary was left to him that week after +forfeits for bad words were all paid up. But some good came from the +affair, for the actor was never again so late in arriving as not to have +time to look into his shoes for any strange substance possibly lurking +there.</p> + +<p>Personally, I detest the practical joke, but I have, alas! never been +above enjoying my share of the greenroom fun. Some members of Mr. Daly's +company were very stately and dignified, and he would have been glad had +we all been like them. But there were others who would have had fun with +the <!-- Page 189 --><a name='Page_189'></a>tombs of the Egyptian kings, and who could wring smiles from a +graven image. Mr. Daly forfeited at last so recklessly, that either the +brakes had to be put upon our fun or some one would have to do picket +duty. The restless element had a wait of an entire long act in one play, +and among those who waited was a tiny little bit of an old, old man. He +wore rags in his "part," and on the seat of his trousers was an enormous +red patch. He had been asked to stand guard in the greenroom door, and +nothing loath, he only argued deprecatingly: "You'll all get caught, I'm +afraid. You see, Mr. Daly's so sharp, if I cough, he'll hear me, too, +and will understand. If I signal, he'll see me, and we'll all get +forfeited together."</p> + +<p>For a moment we were silently cast down. Then I rose to the occasion +beautifully. I took the wee little man and placed him in the greenroom +doorway, leaning with his back against the door-jamb. When he saw Mr. +Daly in the distance, he simply was to <!-- Page 190 --><a name='Page_190'></a>turn his bright red patch +<i>toward</i> us—we would do the rest.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious success. We kept an eye on the picket, and when the +red patch danger signal was shown, silence fell upon the room. Forfeits +ceased for a long time. Of course we paid our watchman for his +services—paid him in pies. He had a depraved passion for bakers' pies, +which he would not cut into portions, because he said it spoiled their +flavour—he preferred working his way through them; and that small grey +face seen near the centre of a mince pie whose rim was closing gently +about his ears was a sight to make a supreme justice smile.</p> + +<p>But our evil course was almost run: our little pie-eater, who was just a +touch odd, or what people call "queer," on Thanksgiving Day permitted +himself to be treated by so many drivers of pie wagons that at night he +was tearful and confused, and though he watched faithfully for the +coming of Mr.<!-- Page 191 --><a name='Page_191'></a> Daly, while we laughingly listened to a positively +criminal parody on "The Bells," watched for and saw him in ample time, +he, alas! confusedly turned his red patch the wrong way, and we, every +one, came to grief and forfeiture in consequence.</p> + +<p>Obliging people, generous, ever ready to give a helping hand. Behind the +scenes, then, our social condition, I may say, is one of good-mannered +informality, of jollity tempered by respect and genuine good-fellowship.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a><h2><!-- Page 192 --><a name='Page_192'></a><i>CHAPTER XVI +<br /><br /> +THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>Nothing in my autobiography seems to have aroused so much comment, so +much surprise, as my admission that I prayed in moments of great +distress or anxiety, even when in the theatre.</p> + +<p>One man writes that he never knew before that there was such a thing as +a "praying actress." Poor fellow, one can't help feeling there's lots of +other things he doesn't know; and though I wish to break the news as +gently as possible, I have to inform him that I am not a <i>rara avis</i>, +that many actresses <!-- Page 193 --><a name='Page_193'></a>pray; indeed, the woods are full of us, so to +speak.</p> + +<p>One very old gentleman finds this habit of prayer "commendable and +sweet," but generally there seems to be a feeling of amazement that I +should dare, as it were, to bring the profession of acting to the +attention of our Lord; and yet we are authorized to pray, "Direct us, O +Lord, in <i>all our doings</i>, and further us with thy continual help, that +in all our work we may glorify thy holy name."</p> + +<p>It is not the work, but the motive, the spirit that actuates the work; +whether embroidering stoles, sawing wood, washing dishes, or acting, if +it is done honestly, for the glory of the holy name, why may one not +pray for divine help?</p> + +<p>One lady, who, poor soul, should have been born two or three hundred +years ago, when her narrowness would have been more natural, is shocked, +almost indignant; and though she is good enough to say she does not +accuse me of "intentional sacrilege,"<!-- Page 194 --><a name='Page_194'></a> still, addressing a prayer to God +from a theatre is nothing less in her eyes than profanation. "For," says +she, "you know we must only seek God in His sanctuary, the church."</p> + +<p>Goodness, mercy! in that case some thousands of us would become heathen +if we never found God save inside of a church.</p> + +<p>Does this poor lady not read her Bible, then? Has she not heard the +psalmist's cry: "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there. If I make +my bed in hell, behold, thou art there also; whither shall I flee from +thy presence?"</p> + +<p>Surely, there are a great many places besides the church between heaven +and hell, and even in a theatre we may not flee from His presence.</p> + +<p>But lest the young girl writers should feel abashed over their +expressions of surprise at my conduct, I will show them what good +company they have had.</p> + +<p>A good many years ago a certain famous <!-- Page 195 --><a name='Page_195'></a>scholar and preacher of New York +City called upon me one day. I was absent, attending rehearsal. The +creed of his denomination was particularly objectionable to me, but +having wandered into the big stone edifice on Fourth Avenue one Sunday, +I was so charmed by his clear reasoning, his eloquence, and, above all, +by his evident sincerity, that I continued to go there Sunday after +Sunday.</p> + +<p>In my absence he held converse with my mother as to his regret at +missing me, as to the condition of the weather, as to the age, +attainments, and breed of my small dog, who had apparently been seized +with a burning desire to get into his lap. We afterward found she only +wished to rescue her sweet cracker, which he sat upon.</p> + +<p>In his absent-minded way he then fell into a long silence, his handsome, +scholarly head drooping forward. Finally he sighed and remarked:—</p> + +<p>"She is an actress, your daughter?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 196 --><a name='Page_196'></a>My mother, with lifted brows, made surprised assent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he went on gently, "an actress, surely, for I see my paper +commends her work. I have noted her presence in our congregation, and +her intelligence." (I never sleep in the daytime.) "Our ladies like her, +too; m-m, an actress, and yet takes an interest in her soul's salvation; +wonderful! I—I don't understand! no, I don't understand!" A speech +which did little to endear its maker to the actress's mother, I'm +afraid.</p> + +<p>See how narrowing are some creeds. This reverend gentleman was +personally gentle, kind, considerate, and naturally just; yet, knowing +no actor's life, never having seen the inside of a playhouse, he, +without hesitation, denounced the theatre and declared it the gate of +hell.</p> + +<p>In the amusing correspondence that followed that call, the great +preacher was on the defensive from the first, and in reading <!-- Page 197 --><a name='Page_197'></a>over two +or three letters that, because of blots or errors, had to be recopied, I +am fairly amazed at the temerity of some of my remarks. In one place I +charge him with "standing upon his closed Bible to lift himself above +sinners, instead of going to them with the open volume and teaching them +to read its precious message."</p> + +<p>Perhaps he forgave much to my youth and passionate sincerity; at all +events, we were friends. I had the benefit of his advice when needed, +and, in spite of our being of different church denominations, he it was +who performed the marriage service for my husband and myself.</p> + +<p>So, girl writers, who question me, you see there have been other pebbles +on my beach, and some big ones, too.</p> + +<p>The question, then, that has been put so many times is, "Can there be +any compatibility between religion and the stage?"</p> + +<p>Now had it been a question of church and stage, I should have been +forced to admit <!-- Page 198 --><a name='Page_198'></a>that the exclusive spirit of the first, and the +unending occupation of the second, kept them uncomfortably far apart. +But the question has invariably been as to a compatibility between +religion and the stage. Now I take it that religion means a belief in +God, and the desire and effort to do His will; therefore I see nothing +incompatible between religion and acting. I am a church-woman now; but +for many years circumstances prevented my entering the great army of +Christians who have made public confession of their faith, and received +baptism as an outward and visible sign of a spiritual change. Yet during +those long years without a church I was not without religion. I knew +naught of "justification," of "predestination," of "transubstantiation." +I only knew I must obey the will of God. Here was the Bible; it was the +word of God. There was Christ, beautiful, tender, adorable, and he said: +"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all <!-- Page 199 --><a name='Page_199'></a>thy +soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment; +and the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as +thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."</p> + +<p>Add to these the old Mosaic "Ten," and you have my religious creed +complete. And though it is simple enough for a child to comprehend, it +is difficult for the wisest to give perfect obedience, because it is not +always easy to love that tormenting neighbour, even a little bit, let +alone as well as oneself. How I wish there was some other word to take +the place of "religion." It has been so abused, so misconstrued. +Thousands of people shrink from the very sound of it, believing that to +be religious means the solemn, sour-faced setting of one foot before the +other in a hard and narrow way—the shutting out of all beauty, the +cutting off of all enjoyment. Oh, the pity! the pity! Can't they read?</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 200 --><a name='Page_200'></a>Let all those that seek thee be joyful and glad in thee, and let such +as love thee and thy salvation say always, The Lord be praised." Again, +"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." But it is not always in giving alone +that He loves cheerfulness. Real love and trust in God—which is +religion, mind you—makes the heart feather light, opens the eye to +beauty, the heart to sympathy, the ear to harmony, and all the merriment +and joy of life is but the sweeter for the reverent gratitude one +returns to the Divine Giver.</p> + +<p>One evening, in a greenroom chatter, the word "religious" had in some +way been applied to me, and a certain actress of "small parts," whose +life had been of the bitterness of gall, suddenly broke out with: +"What—what's that? religious—you? Well, I guess not! Why, you've more +spirits in a minute than the rest of us have in a week, and you are as +full of capers as a puppy. I guess I know religion when I see <!-- Page 201 --><a name='Page_201'></a>it. It +makes children loathe the Bible by forcing them to learn a hundred of +its verses for punishment. It pulls down the shades on Sundays, eats +cold meat and pickles, locks up bookcase and piano, and discharges the +girl for walking with her beau. Oh, no! my dear, you're not religious."</p> + +<p>Poor abused word; no wonder it terrifies people.</p> + +<p>How many thousand women, I wonder, are kept from church by their +inability to dress up to the standard of extravagance raised by those +who are more wealthy than thoughtful. Even if the poor woman plucks up +her courage and enters the church, the magnificence of her fortunate +sisters distracts her attention from the service, and fills her with +longing, too often with envy, and surely with humiliation.</p> + +<p>Some years ago a party of ultra-high churchwomen decided to wear only +black during Lent. One of these ladies condescended to know me, and in +speaking of <!-- Page 202 --><a name='Page_202'></a>the matter, she said: "Oh, I think this black garb is more +than a fad, it really operates for good. It is so appropriate, you know, +and—and a constant reminder of that first great fast—the origin of +Lent; and as I walk about in trailing black, I know I look devout, and +that makes me feel devout, and so I pray often, and you're always the +better for praying, even if your dress is at the bottom of it—and, oh, +well, I feel that I am in the picture, when I wear black during Lent."</p> + +<p>But the important thing is that before the Lenten season was half over, +female New York was walking the streets in gentle, black-robed dignity, +and evidently enjoying the keeping of Lent because, to use a theatrical +expression, "it knew it looked the part."</p> + +<p>So much influence do these petted, beloved daughters of the rich +exercise over the many, that I have often wished that, for the sake of +the poorer women, the wealthy ones would set a fashion of extreme +simplicity of costume <!-- Page 203 --><a name='Page_203'></a>for church-going. Every female thing has an +inalienable right to make herself as lovely as possible; and these +graceful, clever women of fashion would know as well how to make +simplicity charming as does the <i>grande dame</i> of France, who is never +more <i>grande dame</i> than when, in plain little bonnet, simple gown, and a +bit of a fichu, she attends her church.</p> + +<p>These bright butterflies have all the long week to flutter their +magnificence in. Their lunches, dinners, teas, dances, games, yachts, +links, race-courses—everyone gives occasion for glorious display. Will +they not, then, be sweetly demure on Sunday for the sake of the +"picture," spare their sisters the agony of craving for like beautiful +apparel? for God has made them so, and they can't help wanting to be +lovely, too.</p> + +<p>Perhaps some day a woman of fashion, simply clad, will turn up her +pretty nose contemptuously at splendour of dress at church service, and +whisper, "What bad form!"</p> + +<p>Then, indeed, as the tide sets her way, <!-- Page 204 --><a name='Page_204'></a>she will realize her power, and +the church will have many more attendants. The very poor woman will not +be so cruelly humiliated, and the wage-earning girl, who puts so much of +her money into finery, will have a more artistic and more suitable model +to follow.</p> + +<p>And you are beginning to think that free silver is not the only mad idea +that has been put forward by a seemingly sane person. Ah, well, it's +sixteen to one, you know, that this is both first and last of the church +dress-reform.</p> + +<p>To those two little maids who so anxiously inquire "if I believe prayer +is of any real service, and why, since my own could not always have been +answered," I can only say, they being in a minority, I have no authority +to answer their question here. Perhaps, though, they may recall the fact +that their loving mothers tenderly refused some of their most passionate +demands in babyhood. And we are yet but children, who often pray +improperly to our Father.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a><h2><!-- Page 205 --><a name='Page_205'></a><i>CHAPTER XVII +<br /><br /> +A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>What is the most unpleasant experience in the daily life of a young +actress?</p> + +<p>Without pause for thought, and most emphatically too, I answer, her +passing unattended through the city streets at night; that is made +unalloyed misery, through terror and humiliation. The backwoods girl +makes her lonely way through the forest by blazed trees, but the way of +the lonely girl through the city streets is marked by blazing blushes.</p> + +<p>It is an infamy that a girl's honesty should not protect her by night as +well as by day. Those hideous hyenas of the midnight streets are never +deceived. By one glance they can <!-- Page 206 --><a name='Page_206'></a>distinguish between a good woman and +those poor wandering ghosts of dead modesty and honour, who flit +restlessly back and forth from alleys dark to bright gas glare; but +bring one of these men to book, and he will declare that "decent women +have no right to be in the streets after nightfall," as though citizens +were to maintain public highways for the sole use one-half the time of +all the evil things that hide from light to creep out at dark and meet +those companions who are fair by day and foul by night.</p> + +<p>Some girls never learn to face the homeward walk with steady nerves, +others grow used to the swift approach, the rapidly spoken word, and +receive them with set, stony face and deaf ears; but oh, the terror and +the shame of it at first! And this horror of the night takes so many +forms that it is hard to say which one is the most revolting—hard to +decide between the vile innuendo whispered by a sober brute or the +roared ribaldry of a drunken beast.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 207 --><a name='Page_207'></a>In one respect I differ from most of my companions in misery, since +they almost invariably fear most the drunkard; while I ground my greater +fear of the sober man upon the simple fact that I can't outrun him as I +can a drunken one, at a pinch. One night, in returning home from a +performance of "Divorce,"—a very long play that brought me into the +street extra late,—a shrieking man flew across my path, and as a second +rushed after him with knife uplifted for a killing blow, his foot caught +in mine, and as he pitched forward the knife sank into his victim's arm +instead of his back as he had intended; and with the cries of "Murder! +Police!" ringing in my ears, I ran as if I were the murderess. These +things are in themselves a pretty high price to pay for being an +actress.</p> + +<p>I had a friend, an ancient lady, a relative of one of our greatest +actors, who, for independence' sake, taught music in her old age. One +night she had played at a concert and <!-- Page 208 --><a name='Page_208'></a>was returning home. Tall and +slight and heavily veiled, she walked alone. Then suddenly appeared a +well-looking young son of Belial, undoubtedly a gentleman by daylight. +He tipped his hat and twirled his mustache; she turned away her head. He +cleared his throat; she seemed quite deaf. He spoke; he called her +"girlie" (the scamp!). She walked the faster; so did he. He protested +she should not walk home alone; she stopped; she spoke, "Will you please +allow me to walk home in peace?"</p> + +<p>But, no, that was just what he would not do, and suddenly she answered, +"Very well, then, I accept your escort, though under protest."</p> + +<a name='Evadne'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in "Evadne"</i>]</p> + +<p>Surprised, he walked at her side. The way was long, the silence grew +painful. He ventured to suggest supper as they passed a restaurant; she +gently declined. At last she stopped directly beneath a gas-lamp, and +from her face, with sorrow-hollowed eyes and temples, where everyone of +her seventy-six <!-- Page 209 --><a name='Page_209'></a>years had been stamped in cruel line and crease and +wrinkle, she lifted up the veil and raised her sad old eyes +reproachfully to his. He staggered back, turned red, turned white, +stammered, took off his hat, attempted to apologize, then turned and +fled.</p> + +<p>"And what," I asked, "did you say to him?"</p> + +<p>"Say, say," she repeated; "justice need not be cruel. Why add anything +to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek.</p> + +<p>'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and +well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her +tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient +gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because +fate had left her without a protector.</p> + +<p>Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about; +but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch +your hare and then—"<!-- Page 210 --><a name='Page_210'></a> so, just catch your policeman. But believe me, +they rarely appear together,—your tormentor of women and your +policeman,—unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then +what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing +against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best +defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl.</p> + +<p>Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and +turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a +sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish +that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a +pity <i>I'm</i> not," and disappeared in the dark side street.</p> + +<p>After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home +nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past +experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls—they +<!-- Page 211 --><a name='Page_211'></a>only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety, +though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk +shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then.</p> + +<p>I recall one snowy January night when I was returning home. It was on a +Saturday, and I had played a five-act play twice with but a sandwich for +my dinner, the weather forbidding my going home after the matinee. So +being without change to ride with, hungry and unutterably weary, I +started, bag in hand, to walk up Sixth Avenue. On the east side stood a +certain club house (it stands there yet, by the way), whose peculiar +feature was a vine-hung veranda across its entire front, from which an +unusually long flight of steps led to the sidewalk. Quite unmolested, I +had walked from the stage door almost to this building, when suddenly, +as if he had sprung from the very earth, a man was at my elbow +addressing me, and the fact that he was <!-- Page 212 --><a name='Page_212'></a>not English, and so not +understood, did not in the slightest degree lessen the terror his evil +face inspired. I shrank away from him, and he caught at my wrist. It was +too much. I gave a cry and started to run, when, tall and broad, a man +appeared at the foot of the club-house steps, just ahead of me. Ashamed +to be seen running, I halted, and dropped into a walk again.</p> + +<p>Then with that exaggerated straightening of back and stiffening of knee +adopted by one who tries to walk a floor-crack or chalk-line, the second +man approached me. He was very big, he was silvery grey, and his dignity +was portentous. At every step he struck the pavement a ringing blow with +a splendid malacca cane. Old-fashioned and gold-headed, it looked enough +like its owner to have been his twin brother. He lifted his high silk +hat, and with somewhat florid indignation inquired: "My c-hild, was that +in-nfamous cur annoying you shust now? A-a-h!" he broke off, +flourish<!-- Page 213 --><a name='Page_213'></a>ing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had +hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted +away, across and down the avenue.</p> + +<p>"An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered +unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you +see at this moment, pray, eh? And, by the way, m' child, what in the +devil's name brings yer on the street alone at this hour, say, tell me +that?" and he assumed a most judicial attitude and manner.</p> + +<p>I replied, "I am going home from my work, sir."</p> + +<p>"Y-your w-what?" he growled.</p> + +<p>"My work, sir, at the theatre."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he groaned, "and t-that crawlin' r-reptile couldn't let you +pass, you poor little soul, you!"</p> + +<p>Upon my word, I thought he was going to weep over me. Next moment he +turned his collar up with a violence that nearly <!-- Page 214 --><a name='Page_214'></a>upset him, and +exclaimed: "D-don't you be a-fraid. I'll see you safely home. G-go by +yourself? not much you won't! I'll take you to your mother. S-say, +you've got a mother, haven't you? Yes, that's right; every girl's worth +anythin's got a mother. I-I'll take you to her, sure; receive maternal +thanks, a-and all that. Oh, say, boys! look here!" he shouted, and +holding out the big cane in front of me to prevent my passing, he called +to him two other men, who slowly and with almost superhuman caution were +negotiating the snowy steps.</p> + +<p>"Say, Colonel! Judge! come here and help me p-pr'tect this un-fortunate +child." The Judge at that moment sat heavily and unintentionally down on +the bottom step, and the Colonel remarked pleasantly, though a trifle +vaguely, "T-that's the time he hit it"; while the fallen man asked +calmly from his snowy seat, "P-pr-protect what—f-from who?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 215 --><a name='Page_215'></a>This poor ch-i-ld from raging beasts and in-famous scoundrels, Judge," +remarked my bombastic friend.</p> + +<p>"We're gentlemen, my dear; and say, get the Judge up, Colonel, and start +him, and we'll <i>all</i> see her safe home. Damn shame, a la-dy can't walk +in safety, w-without 'er body of able-bodied cit-zens to protect her! +Com'er long, now, child." And he grasped my arm and pushed me gently +forward.</p> + +<p>The Colonel tipped his hat over one eye, gave a military salute, and +wavered back and forth. The Judge muttered something about "Honest woman +against city of New York," and something "and costs," and both fell to +the rear.</p> + +<p>And thus escorted by all these intoxicated old gallants, I made my +mortified way up the avenue, they wobbling and sliding and stammering, +and he who held my arm, I distinctly remember, recited Byron to me, and +told me many times that the Judge was "a p-perfect gentleman, and so was +his wife."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 216 --><a name='Page_216'></a>This startling statement was delivered just as we reached Thirty-second +Street. Like an eel I slipped from his grasp, and whirling about, I said +as rapidly as I could speak, "I'm almost home now. I can see the light +from here, and I can't take you any farther out of your way," and I +darted down the darker street.</p> + +<p>Looking back from my own stoop, I saw the three kindly old sinners +making salutations at the corner. My bombastic friend and the Judge had +their hats off, waving them, and the Colonel saluted with such rigid +propriety, it seems a pity that he was facing the wrong way.</p> + +<p>I laugh, oh, yes, I laugh at the memory, until I think how silvery were +these three wine-muddled old heads, and then I feel "the pity, oh, the +pity of it!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a><h2><!-- Page 217 --><a name='Page_217'></a><i>CHAPTER XVIII +<br /><br /> +A BELATED WEDDING</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was in a city in the far West that this small incident took place—a +city of the mountains still so young that some of its stateliest +business buildings of stone or marble, with plate-glass, fine furniture, +and electric lighting, were neighboured not merely by shanties, but +actually by tents.</p> + +<p>But though high up in the mountains, the young city was neither too far +nor too high for vice to reach it; and so it came about that a certain +woman, whose gold-bought smiles had become a trifle too mocking and +satirical to be attractive, had come to the <!-- Page 218 --><a name='Page_218'></a>young city and placed +herself at the head of an establishment where, at command, every one +from sunset laughed and was merry, and held out hungry, grasping little +hands for the gold showered upon them—laughed, with weary, pain-filled +eyes—laughed, with stiff, tired lips sometimes—but still laughed till +sunrise—and then, well, who cared what they did <i>then</i>?</p> + +<p>And this woman had waxed rich, and owned valuable property and much +mining stock, and was generous to those who were down on their luck, and +was quick with her revolver—as the man who tried to hold her up on a +lonely road found out to his sorrow.</p> + +<p>Now to this city there came a certain actress, and the papers and the +theatre bills announced a performance of the old French play of +"Camille." The wealthy Madame Elize, as she styled herself, had heard +and read much of both actress and play, and knew that it was almost a +nightly occurrence for men to shed tears over two of the scenes, <!-- Page 219 --><a name='Page_219'></a>while +women wept deliciously through the whole play.</p> + +<p>She determined that she would go to that performance, though the manager +assured the public, in large letters, that no one of her order could +possibly be admitted. And she declared "that she could sit out that or +any other play without tears. That no amount of play-acting could move +her, unless it was to laughter."</p> + +<p>And so the night came, and the best seat in the best box in all that +crowded theatre was occupied by a woman of forty-five, who looked about +thirty-eight, who, but for the fixed, immovable colour in her cheeks and +her somewhat too large and too numerous diamonds, might from her black +silk, rich dark furs, and her dignified bearing have passed for an +honest woman.</p> + +<p>She watched the first act with a somewhat supercilious manner, but the +second act found her wiping her eyes—very cautiously; there was that +unvarying colour to think of. The <!-- Page 220 --><a name='Page_220'></a>third act found her well back in the +shadow of the box curtain, and the last act she watched with a face of +such fixed determination as to attract the wondering comment of several +of the actors.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell, one of them remarked, "I'd like to know what that +woman will do in the next few hours?"</p> + +<p>This is what she did. Keeping back till the house was nearly empty, she +left the theatre alone. Then she engaged a carriage—of which there were +very, very few in that city of the mountains, where the people did most +of their going and coming on horseback—and had herself conveyed to her +home, ablaze with light and full of laughter; and bidding the driver +wait, she entered quietly and went swiftly to her own apartment, where a +man in slippers and dressing-gown sat in a big armchair, sleeping over +the evening paper.</p> + +<p>She lost no time, but aroused him at once, shaking him by the shoulder, +and in cold, curt tones ordered him "to rise and dress for the street, +and to go with her."</p> + +<a name='Camille'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris in the 1st Act of "Camille"</i>]</p> + +<p><!-- Page 221 --><a name='Page_221'></a>But he objected, asking: "Why the deuce he should go out that bitter +night? And was she a fool, or did she take him for one?"</p> + +<p>Upon which she had so savagely ordered him "to get on his boots, his +coat, and overcoat" that the sleepiness had vanished from his sharp +eyes, and he had exclaimed, "What is it, Kate? what's happened to you?"</p> + +<p>And she answered: "I've had a blow—no, don't reach for your gun. I +don't mean that—but, Jim, it hurts. (Here, let me tie that for you.) +I've had a blow straight at the heart, and a woman gave it—God bless +her! (Can't you brush your hair up over that thin place? Jim—why, Jim, +upon my soul, you're grey!) Oh, hurry! here, take your fur coat—you'll +need it. Come now—no, I won't tell till we're outside this house. +Come—on the quiet, now—come," and taking him by the arm she dragged +him down the hall and stairs, and so outside the front door.</p> + +<p>There she stopped. The man shivered at <!-- Page 222 --><a name='Page_222'></a>the cold, but kept his gleaming +eyes fastened on her white face, "Well?" he said.</p> + +<p>She stood looking up at the glory of the sky above her, where the stars +glittered with extraordinary brilliancy, and in an abstracted tone she +observed, "There's the 'Dipper.'"</p> + +<p>He watched her still silently; she went on: "Do you remember, Jim, when +I taught school down in Westbury, how we used to look at the 'Dipper' +together, because you didn't dare speak—of anything else? You got seven +dollars a week, then, and I—oh, Jim! why in God's name <i>didn't</i> you +speak? Then I might never have come to this." She struck the lintel of +the door passionately, but went right on: "Yes—yes, I'm going to tell +you, and you've got to make a decision, right here, <i>now</i>! You'll think +I'm mad, I know; but see here now, I've got that woman's dying eyes +looking into mine; I've got that woman's voice in my ears, and her words +burnt into my living heart! I'll tell <!-- Page 223 --><a name='Page_223'></a>you by and by, perhaps, what +those words are, but first, my proposal: you are free to accept it, you +are free to refuse it, or you are free to curse me for a drivelling +idiot; but look you here, man, if you <i>laugh</i> at it, I swear I'll <i>kill</i> +you! Now, will you help me out of this awful life? Jim, will you get +into that carriage and take me to the nearest minister and marry me, or +will you take this 'wad' and go down that street and out of my life +forever?"</p> + +<p>In the pause that followed they looked hard into one another's eyes. +Then the man answered in six words. Pushing away the hand that offered +him a great tight-rolled mass of paper money, he said, "Put that +away—now, come on," and they entered the carriage, and drove to the +home of a minister. There a curious thing happened. They had answered +satisfactorily the reverend gentleman's many questions before he quite +realized <i>who</i> the woman was. When he did recognize her, he refused to +perform <!-- Page 224 --><a name='Page_224'></a>the ceremony, and with words of contemptuous condemnation +literally drove them from the house, and with his ecclesiastical hand +banged the door after them.</p> + +<p>They visited another minister, and their second experience differed from +their first in two points,—the gentleman was quicker in his recognition +and refusal, and refrained from banging the door. And so they drove up +and down and across the city, till at last they stood at the carriage +door and looked helpless at each other. Then the man said, "That's the +last one, Kate," and the woman answered, "Yes, I know—I know." She drew +a long, hard breath that was not far from a sob, and added, "Yes, +they've downed me; but it wasn't a fair game, Jim, for they've played +with marked cards."</p> + +<p>She had entered the carriage when the driver with the all-pervading +knowledge and unlimited assurance of the Western hackman remarked +genially: "Madame Elize, there's another gospel-sharp out on the edge of +the <!-- Page 225 --><a name='Page_225'></a>town. He's poorer than Job's turkey, and his whole dorgon'd little +scantlin' church ain't bigger than one of them Saratogy trunks, but his +people just swear by him. Shall I take you out there?"</p> + +<p>Madame Elize nodded an assent, and once more they started. It was a long +drive. The horses strained up killing grades, sending out on the cold +air columns of steam from their dilating nostrils. The driver beat first +one hand and then the other upon his knees, and talked amicably if +profanely to his horses; but inside the carriage there was utter +silence.</p> + +<p>At last they stopped before a poor, cold-looking little cottage, and +entering made their wishes known to a blue-eyed, tall young man, with +thin, sensitive lips, who listened with grave attention. He knew +precisely who and what she was, and very gently told her he would have +to ask one unpleasant question, "Was the man at her side acquainted with +her past, or was he a <!-- Page 226 --><a name='Page_226'></a>stranger who was being deceived—victimized, in +fact?"</p> + +<p>And Kate, with shining eyes, turned and said: "Tell him, Jim, how for +six honest, innocent years we were friends. Then tell him how for +fifteen years we've been partners in life. Tell him whether you know me, +Jim, or whether you're victimized."</p> + +<p>And then the young minister had told them he was proud and thankful to +clasp their hands and start them on their new path, with God's blessing +on them. And they were married at last; and as they drove away, they +noted the strange outlines of the mountains, where they reared their +stupendous bulk against the star-sown sky. A sense of awe came upon +them—of smallness, of helplessness. Instinctively they clasped hands, +and presently the woman said: "Oh, Jim, the comfort of a wedding ring! +It circles us about so closely, and keeps out all the rest of the +world."</p> + +<p>And Jim stooped his head and kissed her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a><h2><!-- Page 227 --><a name='Page_227'></a><i>CHAPTER XIX +<br /><br /> +SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It is not often, I fancy, that one defends one's hero or friend from +himself. Yet that about describes what I am doing now for the famous +Salvini. An acquaintance of mine, a man self-contained and dignified, +who was reading the other day, startled me by muttering aloud, "Oh, that +mine enemy would write a book!" and a moment later, flinging the volume +from him, he cried: "Where were his friends? Why did they permit him to +write of himself?"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" I exclaimed in bewilderment, "where were whose friends? +Of whom are you speaking, and why are you so excited?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 228 --><a name='Page_228'></a>Oh," he answered impatiently, "it's the disappointment! I judged the +man by his splendid work; but look at that book—the personal pronoun +forms one solid third of it. I know it does!" and he handed me the +volume in question.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, as I glanced at the title,—"Autobiography of Tommaso +Salvini,"—"no matter what the book may say, Tommaso Salvini is a mighty +actor." And then I began to read. At first I was a bit taken aback. I +had thought Mr. Macready considered himself pretty favourably, had made +a heavy demand on the I's and my's in his book; but the bouquets he +presented to himself were modest little nosegays when compared with the +gorgeous floral set pieces provided <i>ad libitum</i> for "Signor Salvini" by +Signor Salvini.</p> + +<p>Then presently I began to smile at the open honesty of this +self-appreciation, at the naïve admiration he expresses for his figure, +his voice, his power. "After all," I said,<!-- Page 229 --><a name='Page_229'></a> "when the whole civilized +world has for years and years affirmed and reaffirmed that he is the +greatest actor living, is it strange that he should come to believe the +world?"</p> + +<p>"But," growled my friend, "why could he not be content with the world's +statement? Why had he no reticence? Look at these declarations: that no +words can describe his power, that everybody wished to know him, that +everybody wished to claim his friendship, that everybody made it his +boast to be seen in his company, etc."</p> + +<p>"Well," I answered, "you certainly cannot doubt the truth of the +assertions. I believe every one of them. You see, you are not making any +allowance for temperament or early environment. Those who are humbly +born in a kingdom are lifted by a monarch's praise to the very pinnacle +of pride and joy and superiority. Think of the compliments paid this man +by royalty. Think, too, of his hot blood, his quick imagination. You +can't expect calm self-restraint from him; and just <!-- Page 230 --><a name='Page_230'></a>let me tell you, +for your comfort, that this 'book Salvini' is utterly unlike the kindly +gentleman who is the real, everyday Salvini."</p> + +<p>My friend looked at me a moment, then shaking hands he added gravely: +"Thank you. The great actor goes upon his pedestal again, to my own +satisfaction; but—but—don't think I care for this book. I'll wait till +some one else tells of his triumphs and his gifts," and laying it upon +the table he took his departure.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing what a misleading portrait Signor Salvini has drawn of +himself. I worked with him, and I found him a gentleman of modest, even +retiring, disposition and most courtly manners. He was remarkably +patient at the long rehearsals which were so trying to him because his +company spoke a language he could not understand.</p> + +<p>The love of acting and the love of saving were veritable passions with +him, and many were the amusing stories told of his economies; but, in +spite of his personal frugality, <!-- Page 231 --><a name='Page_231'></a>he was generous in the extreme to his +dear ones.</p> + +<p>When I had got over my first amazement at receiving a proposal to act +with the great Italian, Mr. Chizzola, his manager, stated terms, and +hastened to say that a way had been found by which the two names could +be presented without either taking preference of the other on the bill, +and that the type would of course be the same in both—questions I +should never have given a thought to, but over which my manager stood +ready to shed his heart's blood. And when I said that I should willingly +have gone on the bills as "supporting Signor Salvini," I thought he was +going to rend his garments, and he indignantly declared that such talk +was nothing less than heresy when coming from a securely established +star.</p> + +<p>At one of our rehearsals for the "Morte Civile," a small incident +occurred that will show how gracious Signor Salvini could be. Most +stars, having the "business" of their <!-- Page 232 --><a name='Page_232'></a>play once settled upon, seem to +think it veritable sacrilege to alter it, no matter how good the reason +for an alteration; and a suggestion offered to a star is generally +considered an impertinence. In studying my part of Rosalia, the +convict's wife, a very pretty bit of "business" occurred to my mind. I +was to wear the black cross so commonly seen on the breast of the Roman +peasant women, and once at an outbreak of Conrad's, I thought if I +raised that cross without speaking, and he drooped before it, it would +be effective and quite appropriate, as he was supposed to be +superstitiously devout. I mentioned it to young Salvini, who cried +eagerly, "Did you tell my father—did he see it?"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" I answered, "do you suppose I would presume to suggest +'business' to a Salvini? Besides, could anything new be found for him in +a play he has acted for twenty years? No, I have not told your father, +nor do I intend to take such a liberty."</p> + +<p>But next morning, when we came to that <!-- Page 233 --><a name='Page_233'></a>scene, Signor Salvini held up +his hand for a halt in the rehearsal, called for Alessandro, and, +bidding him act as interpreter, said, smiling pleasantly, to me, "Now +zee i-dee please you, madame?" for young Alessandro had betrayed my +confidence. There was a mocking sparkle in Salvini's blue eyes, but he +was politely ready to hear and reject "zee i-dee." I felt hot and +embarrassed, but I stood by my guns, and placing Alessandro in the +chair, I made him represent Conrad; and when he came to the furious +outburst, I swiftly lifted the cross and held it before his eyes till +his head sank upon my breast. But in a twinkling, with the cry, "No—no! +I show!" Salvini plucked Alessandro out of the seat, flung himself into +it, resumed the scene, and as I lifted the cross before his convulsed +features, his breath halted, slowly he lifted his face, when, divining +his meaning, I pressed the cross gently upon his trembling lips, and +with a sob his head fell weakly upon my breast. It was beautifully done; +<!-- Page 234 --><a name='Page_234'></a>even the actors were moved. Then he spoke rapidly to his son, who +translated to me thus: "How have I missed this 'business' all these +years? It is good—we will keep it always—tell madame that." And so, +courteously and without offence, this greatest of actors accepted a +suggestion from a newcomer in his play.</p> + +<p>A certain English actor, who had been with him two or three seasons, +made a curious little mistake night after night, season after season, +and no one seemed to heed it. Of course Salvini, not speaking English, +could not be expected to detect the error. Where the venomous priest +should humbly bow himself out with the veiled threat, "This may yet end +in a trial—and—conviction!" the actor invariably said, "This may yet +end in a trial of convictions!" Barely three nights had passed when +Signor Salvini said to his son, "Why does Miss Morris smile at that +man's exit? It is not funny. Ask why she smiles." And he was greatly put +out with his actor <!-- Page 235 --><a name='Page_235'></a>when he learned the cause of my amusement. A very +observant man, you see.</p> + +<p>He is a thinking actor; he knows <i>why</i> he does a thing, and he used to +be very intolerant of some of the old-school "tricks of the trade." +Mind, when I was acting with him, he had come to understand fairly well +the English of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary, and if he was quite +calm and not on exhibition in any way, he could speak it a little and +quite to the point, as you will see. He particularly disliked the old, +old trick called "taking the stage," that is, when a good speech has +been made, the actor at its end crosses the stage, changing his position +for no reason on earth save to add to his own importance. It seemed +Salvini had tried through his stage manager to break up the wretched +habit; but one morning he saw an actor end his speech at the centre of +the stage, and march in front of every one to the extreme right-hand +corner. A curl came to the great actor's lip, then he said inquiringly,<!-- Page 236 --><a name='Page_236'></a> +"What for?" The actor stammered, "I—I—it's my cross, you know—the end +of my speech."—"Y-e-es," sweetly acquiesced the star. "Y-e-es, you +cross, I see—but what for?" The actor hesitated. "You do <i>so</i>," went on +Salvini, giving a merciless imitation of the swelling chest and stage +stride of the guilty one, as he had crossed from centre down to extreme +right. "You do so—but for <i>why</i>? A-a-ah!" Suddenly he seemed to catch +an idea. "A-a-ah! is it that you have zee business with zee people in +zee box? A-a-ah! you come spik to zose people? No? Not for that you +come? You have <i>no</i> reason for come here, you say? Then, for God's sake, +stay centre till you <i>have</i> a reason!"</p> + +<p>It was an awful lesson, but what delicious acting. The simple, earnest +inquiry, the delighted catching at an idea, the following +disappointment, and the final outburst of indignant authority—he never +did anything better for the public.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 237 --><a name='Page_237'></a>During the short time we acted together but one cloud, a tiny, tiny one +of misunderstanding, rose between us, but according to reports made by +lookers-on a good deal of lightning came out of it. Of course not +understanding each other's language, we had each to watch the other as a +cat would watch a mouse, in order to take our cues correctly. At one +point I took for mine his sudden pause in a rapidly delivered speech, +and at that pause I was to speak instantly. We got along remarkably +well, for his soul was in his work, and I gave every spark of +intelligence I had in me to the effort to satisfy him; so by the fifth +or sixth performance we both felt less anxiety about the catching of our +cues than we had at first. On the night I speak of, some one on +Salvini's side of the stage greatly disturbed him by loud whispering in +the entrance. He was nervous and excitable, the annoyance (of which I +was unconscious) threw him out of his stride, so to speak. He glanced +off warningly and snapped his fingers.<!-- Page 238 --><a name='Page_238'></a> No use; on went the giggling and +whispering. At last, in the very middle of a speech, wrath overcame him. +He stopped dead. That sudden stop was my cue. Instantly I spoke. Good +heaven! he whirled upon me like a demon. I understood that a mistake had +been made, but it was not mine. I knew my cue when I got it. The humble +Rosalia was forgotten. With hot resentment my head went up and back with +a fling, and I glared savagely back at him. A moment we stood in silent +rage. Then his face softened, he laid the fingers of his left hand on +his lips, extending his right with that unspeakably deprecating +upturning of the palm known only to the foreign-born. An informing +glance of the eye toward the right, followed by a faint "<i>Pardon</i>!" was +enough. I dropped back to meek Rosalia, the scene was resumed, the cloud +had passed. But one man who had been looking on said: "By Jove! you +know, you two looked like a pair of blue-eyed devils, just ready to rend +each <!-- Page 239 --><a name='Page_239'></a>other. Talk about black-eyed rage; it's the lightning of the blue +eyes that sears every time."</p> + +<p>I had been quite wild to see Signor Salvini on his first visit to +America, and at last I caught up with him in Chicago, and was so happy +as to find my opportunity in an extra matinee. The play was "Othello," +and during the first act he looked not only a veritable Moor, but, what +was far greater, he seemed to be Shakespeare's own "Moor of Venice." The +splendid presence, the bluff, soldierly manner, the open, honest look, +as the "round unvarnished tale" was delivered, made one understand, +partly at least, how "that maiden never bold, a spirit so still and +quiet," had come at last to see "<i>Othello's</i> visage <i>in his mind</i>, and +to his honour and his valiant parts to consecrate her fortune and her +soul!" Through all the noble scene, through all the soldierly dignity +and candid speech, there was that tang of roughness that so naturally +clung to the man whose <!-- Page 240 --><a name='Page_240'></a>life from his seventh year had been passed in +the "tented field," and who himself declared, "Rude am I in speech, and +little bless'd with the set phrase of peace."</p> + +<p>In short, Salvini was a delight to eye and ear, and satisfied both +imagination and judgment in that first act. Like many people who are +much alone, I have the habit of speaking sometimes to myself—a habit I +repented of that day, yes, verily I did; for when, at Cyprus, Othello +entered and fiercely swept into his swarthy arms the pale loveliness of +Desdemona, 'twas like a tiger's spring upon a lamb. The bluff and honest +soldier, the English Shakespeare's Othello, was lost in an Italian +Othello. Passion choked, his gloating eyes burned with the mere lust of +the "sooty Moor" for that white creature of Venice. It was revolting, +and with a shiver I exclaimed aloud, "Ugh, you splendid brute!" +Realizing my fault, I drew quickly back into the shadow of the curtain; +but a man's rough voice had answered in<!-- Page 241 --><a name='Page_241'></a>stantly, "Make it a <i>beast</i>, +ma'am, and I'm with you!" I was cruelly mortified.</p> + +<a name='Salvini'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Tommaso Salvini</i>]</p> + +<p>But there was worse to happen that day. The leading lady, Signora +Piamonti, an admirable actress, was the Desdemona. She played the part +remarkably well, and was a fairly attractive figure to the eye, if one +excepted her foot. It was exceptionally long and shapeless, and was most +vilely shod. Her dresses, too, all tipped up in the front, unduly +exposing the faulty members; many were the comments made, and often the +query followed, "Why doesn't she get some American shoes?" I am sorry to +say that some of our daily papers even were ungracious enough to refer +to that physical defect, when only her work should have been considered +and criticised.</p> + +<p>The actors had reached the last act. The bed stood in the centre of a +shallow alcove, heavily curtained. These hangings were looped up at the +beginning of the act, and were supposed to fall to the floor, completely +<!-- Page 242 --><a name='Page_242'></a>concealing the bed and its occupant after the murder. The actor had +long before become again Shakespeare's Othello. We had seen him +tortured, racked, and played upon by the malignant Iago; seen him, while +perplexed in the extreme, irascible, choleric, sullen, morose; but now, +as with tense nerves we waited for the catastrophe, he was truly +formidable. The great tragedy moved on. Desdemona's piteous entreaties +had been choked in her slim throat, the smothering pillow held in place +with merciless strength. Then at Emilia's disconcerting knock and demand +for admission, Othello had let down and closely drawn the two curtains. +But alas and alack a day! though they were thick and rich and wide, they +failed to reach the floor by a good foot's breadth—a fact unnoticed by +the star. You may not be an actor; but really when you add to that +twelve or fourteen-inch space the steep incline of the stage—why, you +can readily understand how advisable it was for the dead<!-- Page 243 --><a name='Page_243'></a> Desdemona that +day to stay dead until the play was over.</p> + +<p>Majestically Othello was striding down to the door, where Emilia was +knocking for admittance, when there came that long in-drawn breath—that +"a-a-h!" that from the auditorium always means mischief—and a sudden +bobbing of heads this way and that in the front seats. In an instant the +great actor felt the broken spell, knew he had lost his hold upon the +people—but why? He went on steadily, and then, just as you have seen a +field of wheat surged in one wave by the wind, I saw the closely packed +people in that wide parquet sway forward in a great gust of laughter. +With quick, experienced eye I scanned first Othello's garb from top to +toe, and finding no unseemly rent or flaw of any kind to provoke +laughter, I next swept the stage. Coming to the close-drawn curtains, I +saw—heavens! No wonder the people laughed. The murdered Desdemona had +risen, was evidently sitting on the side of <!-- Page 244 --><a name='Page_244'></a>the bed; for beneath the +curtains her dangling feet alone were plainly seen, kicking cheerfully +back and forth. Such utterly unconscious feet they were that I think the +audience would not have laughed again had they kept still; but all at +once they began a "heel-and-toe step," and people rocked back and forth, +trying to suppress their merriment. And then—oh, Piamonti!—swiftly the +toe of the right foot went to the back of the left ankle and scratched +vigorously. Restraint was ended, every one let go and laughed and +laughed. From the box I saw in the entrance the outspread fingers, the +hoisted shoulders, the despairingly shaken heads of the Italian actors, +who could find no cause for the uproar. Salvini behaved perfectly in +that, disturbed, distressed, he showed no sign of anger, but maintained +his dignity through all, even when in withdrawing the curtains and +disclosing Desdemona dead once more the incomprehensible laughter again +broke out. But late as it was and <!-- Page 245 --><a name='Page_245'></a>short the time left him, he got the +house in hand again, again wove his charm, and sent the people away sick +and shuddering over his too real self-murder.</p> + +<p>As I was leaving the box I met one connected with the management of the +theatre, who, furious over the <i>faux pas</i>, was roughly denouncing the +actress, whom he blamed entirely, and I took it upon myself to suggest +that he pour a vial or two of his wrath upon the heads of his own +property man and the stage manager, who had grossly neglected their duty +in failing to provide curtains of the proper length. And I chuckled with +satisfaction as I saw him plunge behind the scenes, calling angrily upon +some invisible Jim to come forth. I had acted as a sort of lightning-rod +for a sister actress.</p> + +<p>Salvini's relations with his son were charming, though it sounded a bit +odd to hear the stalwart young man calling him "papa." Alessandro had +dark eyes and black hair, so naturally admired the opposite colouring, +and<!-- Page 246 --><a name='Page_246'></a> I never heard him speak of his father's English second wife without +some reference to her fairness. It would be "my blond mamma," "my little +fair mamma," "my father's pretty English wife," or "before my little +blond mamma died." He felt the "mamma" and "papa" jarred on American +ears, and often corrected himself; but when Signor Salvini himself once +told me a story of his father, he referred to him constantly as "my +papa," just as he does in this book of his that makes him seem so +egotistical and so determined to find at all costs the vulnerable spot, +the weak joint in the armour, of all other actors.</p> + +<p>Certainly he could not have been an egotist in the bosom of his family. +A friend in London went to call upon his young wife, his "white lily." +She was showing the house to her visitor, when, pausing suddenly before +a large portrait of her famous husband, she became silent, her uplifted +eyes filled, her lips smiled tremulously, she gave <!-- Page 247 --><a name='Page_247'></a>a little gasp, and +whispered, "Oh, he's almost like God to me!"</p> + +<p>The friend, startled, even shocked, was about to reprove her, but a +glance into the innocent face showed no sacrilege had been meant, only +she had never been honoured, protected, happy, before—and some women +worship where they love. Could an egotist win and keep such affection +and gratitude as that?</p> + +<p>Among those who complain of his opinionated book I am amused to find one +who fairly exhausted himself in praise, not to say flattery, of this +same Salvini. It is very diverting to the mere looker-on, when the world +first proclaims some man a god, bowing down and worshipping him, and +then anathematizes him if he ventures to proclaim his own godship. I +have my quarrel with the book, I confess it. I am sorry he does not show +how he did his tremendous work, show the nature of those sacrifices he +made. How one would enjoy a word-picture of the place where he obtained +his humble meals in <!-- Page 248 --><a name='Page_248'></a>those earliest days of struggle; who shared them, +and in what spirit they were discussed, grave or gay! Italian life is +apt to be picturesque, and these minor circumstances mean much when one +tries to get at the daily life of a man. But Salvini has given us merely +splendid results, without showing us <i>how</i> he obtained them. Yet what a +lesson the telling would have been for some of our indolent actors! Why, +even at the zenith of his career, Salvini attended personally to duties +most actors leave to their dressers. He used to be in his dressing-room +hours before the overture was on, and in an ancient gown he would polish +his armour, his precious weapons or ornaments, arrange his wigs, examine +every article of dress he would require that night, and consequently he +never had mishaps. He used to say: "The man there? Oh, yes, he can pack +and lock and strap and check, but only an actor can understand the care +of these artistic things. What I do myself is well <!-- Page 249 --><a name='Page_249'></a>done; this work is +part of my profession; there is no shame in doing it. And all the time I +work, I think—I think of the part—till I have all forgot—<i>all</i> but +just that part's self."</p> + +<p>And yet, O dear, these are the things he does not put in his book. When +he was all dressed and ready for the performance, Salvini would go into +a dark place and walk and walk and walk; sometimes droopingly, sometimes +with martial tread. Once, I said, "You walk far, signor?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, signorina</i>," he made answer, then eagerly, "<i>I walk me into him!</i>" +And while the great man was "walking into the character," the actors who +supported him smoked cigarettes at the stage door until the dash for +dressing room and costume.</p> + +<p>Some women scold because he has not given pictures of the great people +whom he met. "Why," they ask, "did he not describe Crown Princess +Victoria" (the late Empress Frederick) "at least—how she looked, what +<!-- Page 250 --><a name='Page_250'></a>she wore? Such portraits would be interesting." But Salvini was not +painting portraits, not even his own—truly. He was giving a list of his +triumphs; and if he has shown self-appreciation, he was at least +perfectly honest. There is no hypocrisy about him. If he knew Uriah +Heep, he did not imitate him; for in no chapter has he proclaimed +himself "'umble." If one will read Signor Salvini's book, remembering +that the pæans of a world have been sung in his honour, and that he +really had no superior in his artistic life, I think the I's and my's +will seem simply natural.</p> + +<p>However he may have been admired in other characters, I do truly believe +that only those who have seen him in "Othello" and "Morte Civile" can +fully appreciate the marvellous art of the actor. I carry in my mind two +pictures of him,—Othello, the perfect animal man, in his splendid +prime, where, in a very frenzy of conscious strength, he dashes Iago to +the earth, man and soldier lost in the <!-- Page 251 --><a name='Page_251'></a>ferocity of a jungle male beast, +jealously mad—an awful picture of raging passion. The other, Conrad, +after the escape from prison; a strong man broken in spirit, wasted with +disease, a great shell of a man—one who is legally dead, with the +prison pallor, the shambling walk, the cringing manner, the furtive +eyes. But oh, that piteous salute at that point when the priest +dismisses him, and the wrecked giant, timid as a child, humbly, +deprecatingly touches the priest's hand with his finger-tips and then +kisses them devoutly! I see that picture yet, through tears, just as I +saw for the first time that illustration of supreme humility and +veneration.</p> + +<p>Oh, never mind a little extravagance with personal pronouns! A beloved +father, a very thorough gentleman, but above all else the greatest actor +of his day. There is but the one Salvini, and how can he help knowing +it? So to book and author—ready! <i>Viva Salvini!</i></p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX'></a><h2><!-- Page 252 --><a name='Page_252'></a><i>CHAPTER XX +<br /><br /> +FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>The circus season was over, the animals had gone into comfortable winter +quarters, while the performers, less fortunate than the beasts, were +scattered far and near, "some in rags and some in tags, and some" (a +very few) "in velvet gowns." But one small group had found midwinter +employment, a party of Japanese men and women, who were jugglers, +contortionists, and acrobats; and as their work was pretty as well as +novel, they found a place on the programme of some of the leading +vaudeville theatres.</p> + +<p>They were in a large Western city. Behind the curtain their retiring +manners, their <!-- Page 253 --><a name='Page_253'></a>exquisite cleanliness, their grave and gentle +politeness, made them favourites with the working forces of the theatre, +while before the curtain the brilliant, graceful precision with which +they carried out their difficult, often dangerous, performance won them +the high favour of the public.</p> + +<p>On that special day the matinee was largely attended, the theatre being +filled, even to the upper circles, as at night. Smilingly the audience +had watched the movements of the miniature men and women in their +handsome native costumes, and with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" had seen them +emerge from those robes, already arrayed for acrobatic work, in suits of +black silk tights with trunks and shoulder and wrist trimmings of red +velvet fairly stiffened with gold embroideries; and then came the act +the people liked best, because it contained the element of danger, +because in its performance a young girl and a little lad smilingly +risked life and limb to entertain them.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 254 --><a name='Page_254'></a>The two young things had climbed like cats up to the swinging bars, +high up, where the heat had risen from a thousand gas lights, and the +blood thundered in their ears, and the pulses on their temples beat like +hammers. So high, that looking down through the quivering, bluish mist, +the upturned faces of the people merged together and became like the +waters of a pale, wide pool. Their work was well advanced. With +clocklike precision they had obeyed, ever-smilingly obeyed, the orders +conveyed to them by the sharp tap of the fan their trainer held, though +to the audience the two young forms glittering in black and scarlet and +gold, poising and fluttering there, were merely playing in midair like a +pair of tropical birds.</p> + +<p>They were beginning their great feat, in which danger was so evident +that women often cried out in terror and some covered their eyes and +would not look at all—the music even had sunken to a sort of tremor of +fear. They were for the moment hang<!-- Page 255 --><a name='Page_255'></a>ing head downward from their +separate bars, when across the stillness came the ominous sound of +cracking, splintering wood; afterward it was known that the rung of a +chair in an upper private box had broken, but then,—but <i>then</i>! the +sound was close to the swaying girl's ear!</p> + +<p>Believing it was her bar that was breaking, her strained nerves tore +free from all control! Driven by fear, she made a mad leap out into +space, reaching frantically for the little brown hands that a half +second later would have been ready for her, with life and safety in +their tenacious grasp.</p> + +<p>To those who do their work in space and from high places, the distance +between life and death, between time and eternity, is often measured by +half seconds. Little Omassa had leaped too soon, the small brown hands +with power to save were not extended. She grasped the empty air, gave a +despairing cry, and as she whirled downward, had barely time to realize +that the sun had gone black <!-- Page 256 --><a name='Page_256'></a>out in the sky, and that the world with its +shrieking millions was thundering to its end, when the awful crash came.</p> + +<p>There were shouts and shrieks, tears and groans, and here and there +helpless fainting. Ushers rushed from place to place, the police +appeared suddenly. The Japanese, silent, swift, self-controlled, were +moving their paraphernalia that the curtain might be lowered, were +stretching a small screen about the inert, fallen figure, were bringing +a rug to lift her on, and their faces were like so many old, <i>old</i> ivory +masks.</p> + +<p>Tom McDermott, in his blue coat, stood by the silent little figure +waiting for the rug and for the coming of the doctor, and groaned, "On +her face, too—and she a girl child!"</p> + +<p>Tom had seen three battle-fields and many worse sights, but none of them +had misted his eyes as did this little glittering, broken heap, and he +turned his face away and muttered, "If she'd only keep quiet!" for truly +<!-- Page 257 --><a name='Page_257'></a>it was dreadful to see the long shudders that ran over the silent, +huddled thing, to see certain red threads broadening into very rivulets. +At last the ambulance, then the all-concealing curtain, the reviving +music, a song, a pretty dance, and <i>presto</i>, all was forgotten!</p> + +<p>When Omassa opened her eyes, her brain took up work just where it had +left off; therefore she was astonished to find the sun shining, for had +she not seen the sun go out quite black in the sky? Yet here it was so +bright, and she was—was, where? The room was small and clean, oh, +clean! like a Japanese house, and almost as empty. Could it be? But no, +this bed was American, and then why was she so heavy? What great weight +was upon her? She could not move one little bit, and oh, my! <i>what</i> was +it she could faintly see beyond and below her own nose—was it shadow? +Surely she could not see her own <i>lip</i>? She smiled at that, and the +movement wrung a cry of agony from her—when, like <!-- Page 258 --><a name='Page_258'></a>magic, a face was +bending over her, so kind and gentle, and then a joyous voice cried to +some one in the next room, "This little girl, not content with being +alive, sir, has her senses—is she not a marvel?"</p> + +<p>And with light, delicate touch the stranger moistened the distended, +immovable lip poor Omassa had dimly seen, through which her lower teeth +had been driven in her fall, and in answer to her pleading, questioning +glances at her own helpless body, told her she was encased in plaster +now, but by and by she would be released, and now she was to be very +quiet and try to sleep. And then she smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the +white quilt, shut out the sunlight, and, smiling kindly back at her, +left Omassa, who obediently fell asleep—partly because her life was one +of obedience, and partly because there was nothing else to do.</p> + +<p>And then began the acquaintance between Mrs. Helen Holmes, nurse, and +Omassa, Japanese acrobat. The other nurses teased<!-- Page 259 --><a name='Page_259'></a> Helen Holmes about +her pet patient, saying she was only a commonplace, Japanese child +woman; but Mrs. Holmes would exclaim, "If you could only see her light +up and glow!"</p> + +<p>And so they came to calling Omassa "the lantern," and would jestingly +ask "when she was going to be lighted up"; but there came a time when +Mrs. Holmes knew the magic word that would light the flame and make the +lantern glow, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire; like opal and +tourmaline.</p> + +<p>The child suffered long and terribly; both arms were broken, and in +several places, also her little finger, a number of ribs, her +collar-bone, and one leg, while cuts were simply not counted. During her +fever-haunted nights she babbled Japanese for hours, with one single +English name appearing and reappearing almost continually,—the name of +Frank; and when she called that name it was like the cooing of a pigeon, +and the down-drooping corners of her grave <!-- Page 260 --><a name='Page_260'></a>mouth curled upward into +smiles. She spoke English surprisingly well, as the other members of the +troupe only knew a very little broken English; and had she not placed +the emphasis on the wrong syllable, her speech, would have been almost +perfect.</p> + +<p>Generally she was silent and sad and unsmiling, but grateful, +passionately grateful to her "nurse-lady," as she called Mrs. Holmes; +yet when, that kind woman stooped to kiss her once, Omassa shrank from +the caress with such repugnance as deeply to wound her, until the +little Japanese had explained to her the national abhorrence of kissing, +assuring her over and over again that even "the Japan ma'ma not kiss +little wee baby she love."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Holmes ceased to wonder at the girl's sadness when she found she +was absolutely alone in the world: no father, no mother; no, no sister, +no brother, "no what you call c-cousine?—no nothing, nobody have I got +what belong to me," she said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 261 --><a name='Page_261'></a>One morning, as her sick-room toilet was completed, Mrs. Holmes said +lightly:—</p> + +<p>"Omassa, who is Frank?" and then fairly jumped at the change in the +ivory-tinted, expressionless face. Her long, narrow eyes glowed, a pink +stain came on either cheek, she raised herself a little on her best arm, +eagerly she cried, "You know him—oh, you know Frank?"</p> + +<p>Regretfully Mrs. Holmes answered, "No, dear, I don't know him."</p> + +<p>"But," persisted Omassa, "you know him, or how could you speak his +name?"</p> + +<p>"I learned the name from you, child, when you talked in the fever. I am +very sorry I have caused you a disappointment. I am to blame for my +curiosity—forgive me."</p> + +<p>All the light faded from her face and very quietly she lay down upon her +pillow, her lips close-pressed, her eyes closed; but she could not hide +the shining of the tears that squeezed between her short, thick lashes +and clung to them. 'Twas long before his <!-- Page 262 --><a name='Page_262'></a>name was mentioned again; but +one day something had been said of friends, when Omassa with intense +pride had exclaimed:—"I have got my own self one friend—he—my friend +Frank."</p> + +<p>"What's his other name?" asked the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he very poor, he got only one name."</p> + +<p>"But, dear, he must have another name, he is Frank somebody or +something."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" persisted Omassa with gentle obstinacy, "he tell me always +true, he very poor, good man—he got only one name, my Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>"There," cried Mrs. Holmes, triumphantly, "you see he <i>has</i> two names +after all, you have just called him by them both—Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>At which the invalid sent forth a tinkling laugh of amusement, crying: +"Oh, that not one man's name, oh, no! That Sen that like your Mr.—Mrs.; +you nurse-lady, you Holmes Sen. Ito—big Japan fight man, he Ito Sen, +you unnerstand me, nurse-lady?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 263 --><a name='Page_263'></a>Yes, child, I understand. Sen is a title, a term of respect, and you +like to show your friend Frank all the honour you can, so you call him +Frank Sen."</p> + +<p>And Omassa with unconscious slanginess gravely answered: "You right <i>on</i> +to it at first try. My boss" (her manager Kimoto) "find <i>me</i> baby in +Japan, with very bad old man. He gamble all time. I not know why he have +me, he not my old man, but he sell me for seven year to Kimoto, and +Kimoto teach me jump, turn, twist, climb, and he send my money all to +old man—<i>all</i>. We go Mexico—South America—many Islands—to German +land, and long time here in this most big America—and the world so +big—and then I so little Japan baby—I no play—I no sing—I know +nothing what to do—and just <i>one</i> person in this big lonesome<i>ness</i> +make a kindness to me—my Frank Sen—just one man—just one woman in all +world make goodness to me—my Frank Sen and my nurse-lady," and she +stroked <!-- Page 264 --><a name='Page_264'></a>with reverent little fingers the white hand resting on the bed +beside her.</p> + +<p>"What was he like, your Frank?" asked the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he one big large American man—he not laugh many times loud, but he +laugh in he blue eye. He got brown mustache and he hair all short, +thick, wavy—like puppy dog's back. He poor—he not perform in circus, +oh, no! He work for put up tents, for wagon, for horses. He ver good man +for fight too—he smash man that hurt horse—he smash man that kick dog +or push me, Japan baby. Oh, he best man in all the world" (the exquisite +Madame Butterfly was not known yet, so Omassa was not quoting). "He tell +me I shall not say some words, 'damn' and 'hell' and others more long, +more bad, and he tell me all about that 'hell' and where is—and how you +get in for steal, for lie, for hurt things not so big as you—and how +you can't get out again where there is cool place for change—and <!-- Page 265 --><a name='Page_265'></a>he +smooth my hair and pat my shoulder, for he know Japan people don't ever +be kissed—and he call me one word I cannot know."</p> + +<p>She shook her head regretfully. "He call me 'poor little wave'—why poor +little wave—wave that mean water?" she sighed. "I can't know why Frank +Sen call me that."</p> + +<p>But quick-witted Mrs. Holmes guessed the word had been "waif"—poor +little waif, and she began dimly to comprehend the big-hearted, rough +tent-man, who had tried to guard this little foreign maid from the +ignorance and evil about her.</p> + +<p>"But," resumed Omassa, with perfect conviction, "Frank Sen meaned +goodness for me when he called me 'wave'—I know <i>that</i>. What you think +that big American man do for help me little Japan baby—with no sense? +Well, I will tell you. When daylight circus-show over, he take me by +hand and lead me to shady place between tents—he sit down—put me at he +knee, <!-- Page 266 --><a name='Page_266'></a>and in what you call primer-book with he long brown finger he +point out and make me know all those big fat letters—yes, he do <i>that</i>. +Other mens make of him fun—and he only laugh; but when they say he my +father and say of me names, he lay down primer and fight. When he lay +out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more +letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know <i>all</i>, and +<i>then</i> he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, +and so it come that one day next week was going to be his +fête-day,—what you call birsday,—and I make very big large secret."</p> + +<p>She lifted herself excitedly in bed, her glowing eyes were on her +nurse's face, her lips trembled, the "lantern" was alight and glowing +radiantly.</p> + +<p>"What you think I do for my Frank Sen's birsday? I have never one +penny,—I cannot buy,—but I make one big great try. I go to +circus-lady, that ride horse and jump <!-- Page 267 --><a name='Page_267'></a>hoops—she read like Frank Sen. I +ask her show me some right letters. Oh, I work hard—for I am very +stupid Japan child; but when that day come, Frank Sen he lead me to +shady place—he open primer—then," her whole face was quivering with +fun at the recollection, "then I take he long finger off—I put <i>my</i> +finger and I slow spell—not cat—not dog—oh, <i>what</i> you think?—I +spell F-r-a-n-k—Frank! He look to me, and then he make a big jump—he +catch me—toss me, high up in air, and he shout big glad shout, and then +I say—'cause for your birsday.' He stop, he put me down, and he eyes +come wet, and he take my hand and he say: 'Thank you, that's the only +birsday gift I ever <i>re</i>ceived that was not from my mother. Spell it +again for me,' he said; and then he was very proud and said, 'there was +not any-other birsday gift like that in all the world!' What you think +of <i>that</i>?</p> + +<p>"Then the end to season of circus come—Frank<!-- Page 268 --><a name='Page_268'></a> Sen he kneel down by +me—he very sad—he say, 'I have nothing to give—I am such a fool—and +the green-cloth—oh, the curse of the green-cloth!' He took off my Japan +slippers and smiled at them and said, 'Poor little feet'; he stroked my +hands and said, 'Poor little hands'; he lifted up my face and said, +'Poor little wave'; then he look up in air and he say, very +troubled-like, 'A few home memories—some small knowledge, all I had, I +have given her. To read a little is not much, but maybe it may help her +some day, and I have nothing more to give!'</p> + +<p>"And I feeling something grow very fast, here and here" (touching throat +and breast), "and I say, '<i>You</i> have nothing to give me? well'—and then +I forget all about I am little Japan girl, and I cry, 'Well, <i>I</i> have +something to give you, Frank Sen, and that is one kiss!' And I put my +arms about he neck and make one big large kiss right on he kind lips."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 269 --><a name='Page_269'></a>Her chin sank upon her night-robed breast. After a moment she smiled +deprecatingly at Mrs. Holmes and whispered: "You forgive me, other day? +You see I Japan girl—and just once I give big American kiss to my +friend, Frank Sen."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a><h2><!-- Page 270 --><a name='Page_270'></a><i>CHAPTER XXI +<br /><br /> +STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was during the rehearsals of "L'Article 47" that I enjoyed one single +hearty laugh,—a statement that goes far to show my distressed state of +mind,—for generally speaking that is an unusual day which does not +bring along with its worry, work, and pain some bubble of healing +laughter. It was a joke of Mr. Le Moyne's own special brand that found +favour in my eyes and a place in my memory. Any one who has ever served +under Mr. Daly can recall the astounding list of rules printed in fine +type all over the backs of his contracts. The rules touching on +<i>forfeits</i> seemed end<!-- Page 271 --><a name='Page_271'></a>less: "For being late," "For a stage wait," "For +lack of courtesy," "For gossiping," "For wounding a companion's +feelings"—each had its separate forfeiture. "For addressing the manager +on business outside of his office," I remember, was considered worth one +dollar for a first offence and more for a second. Most of these rules +ended with, "Or discharge at the option of the manager." But it was well +known that the mortal offence was the breaking that rule whose very +first forfeit was five dollars, "Or discharge at the option of," etc., +that rule forbidding the giving to outsiders of any stage information +whatever; touching the plays in rehearsal, their names, scenes, length, +strength, or story; and to all these many rules on the backs of our +contracts we assented and subscribed our amused or amazed selves.</p> + +<p>When the new French play "L'Article 47" was announced, the title aroused +any amount of curiosity. A reporter after a matinee one <!-- Page 272 --><a name='Page_272'></a>day followed me +up the avenue, trying hard to get me to explain its meaning; but I was +anxious not to be "discharged at the option of the manager," and +declined to explain. Many of the company received notes asking the +meaning of the title. At Mr. Le Moyne's house there boarded a walking +interrogation-point of a woman. She wished to know what "L'Article 47" +meant; she would know. She tried Mr. Harkins; Mr. Harkins said he didn't +know. She tossed her head and tried Mr. Crisp; Mr. Crisp patiently and +elaborately explained just why he could not give any information. She +implied that he did not know a lady when he saw one, and fell upon Mr. +Le Moyne, tired, hungry, suavely sardonic. "<i>He</i> was," she assured him, +"a gentleman of the old school. <i>He</i> would know how to receive a lady's +request and honour it." And Le Moyne rose to the occasion. A large +benevolence sat upon his brow, as assuring her that, though he ran the +risk of discharge for her fair sake, yet <!-- Page 273 --><a name='Page_273'></a>should she have her will. He +asked if she had ever seen a Daly contract. The bridling, simpering +idiot replied, "She had seen several, and such numbers of silly rules +she had never seen before, and—"</p> + +<p>"That's it," blandly broke in Le Moyne, "there's the explanation of the +whole thing—see? 'L' Article 47' is a five-act dramatization of the +47th rule of Daly's contract."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever?" gasped the woman.</p> + +<p>"No," said Le Moyne, reaching for bread, "I never did; but Daly's up to +anything, and he'd discharge me like a shot if he should ever hear of +this."</p> + +<p>It was almost impossible to get Mr. Daly to laugh at an actor's joke; he +was too generally at war with them, and he was too often the object of +the jest. But he did laugh once at one of the solemn frauds perpetrated +on me by this same Le Moyne.</p> + +<p>On the one hundred and twenty-fifth performance of "Divorce" I had +"stuck dead," as the saying is. Not a word <!-- Page 274 --><a name='Page_274'></a>could I find of my speech. I +was cold—hot—cold again. I clutched Mrs. Gilbert's hand. I whispered +frantically: "What is it? Oh! what is the word?" But horror on horror, +in my fall I had dragged her down with me. She, too, was +bewildered—lost. "I don't know," she murmured. There we were, all at +sea. After an awful wait I walked over and asked Captain Lynde (Louis +James) to come on, and the scene continued from that point. I was +angry—shamed. I had never stuck in all my life before, not even in my +little girl days. Mr. Daly was, of course, in front. He came rushing +back to inquire, to scold. Every one joked me about my probable +five-dollar forfeit. Well, next night came, and at that exact line I did +it again. Of course that was an expression of worn-out nerves; but it +was humiliating in the extreme. Mr. Daly, it happened, was attending an +opening elsewhere, and did not witness my second fall from grace. Then +came Le Moyne to <!-- Page 275 --><a name='Page_275'></a>me—big and grave and kind, his plump face with the +shiny spots on the cheek-bones fairly exuding sympathetic commiseration. +He led me aside, he lowered his voice, he addressed me gently:—</p> + +<a name='Le_Moyne'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>W.J. Le Moyne</i>]</p> + +<p>"You stuck again, didn't you, Clara? Too bad! too bad! and of course you +apprehend trouble with Daly? I'm awfully sorry. Ten dollars is such a +haul on one week's salary. But see here, I've got an idea that will help +you out, if you care to listen to it."</p> + +<p>I looked hard at him, but the wretch had a front of brass; his +benevolence was touching. I said eagerly: "Yes, I do care indeed to +listen. What is the idea?"</p> + +<p>He beamed with affectionate interest, as he said impressively, "Well, +now you know that a bad 'stick' generally costs five dollars in this +theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I groaned.</p> + +<p>"And you stuck awfully last night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I admitted.</p> + +<p>"Then to-night you go and repeat the <!-- Page 276 --><a name='Page_276'></a>offence. But here is where I see +hope for you. Daly is not here; he does not know yet what you have done. +Watch then for his coming. This play is so long he will be here before +it's over. Go to his private office at once. Get ahead of every one +else; do you understand? Approach him affably and frankly. Tell him +yourself that you have unfortunately stuck again, and then offer him +<i>the two 'sticks' for eight dollars</i>. If he's a gentleman and not a Jew, +he'll accept your proposal."</p> + +<p>Just what remarks I made to my sympathetic friend Le Moyne at the end of +that speech I cannot now recall. If any one else can, I can only say I +was not a church member then, and let it pass at that. But when I opened +my envelope next salary day and saw my full week's earnings there, I +went to Mr. Daly's office and told him of my two "sticks" and of Le +Moyne's proposed offer, and for once he laughed at an actor's joke.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a><h2><!-- Page 277 --><a name='Page_277'></a><i>CHAPTER XXII +<br /><br /> +POOR SEMANTHA</i></h2> +<br /> + +<p>It has happened to every one of us, I don't know why, but every mother's +son or daughter of us can look back to the time when we habitually +referred to some acquaintance or friend as "poor So-and-So"; and the +curious part of it is that if one pauses to consider the why or +wherefore of such naming, one is almost sure to find that, financially +at least, "poor So-and-So" is better off than the person who is doing +the "pooring." Nor is "poor So-and-So" always sick or sorrowful, stupid +or ugly; and yet, low be it whispered, is there not always a trace of +contempt in that word<!-- Page 278 --><a name='Page_278'></a> "poor" when applied to an acquaintance? A very +slight trace, of course,—we lightly rub the dish with garlic, we do not +slice it into our salad. So when we call a friend "poor So-and-So," +consciously or unconsciously, there is beneath all our affection the +slight garlic touch of contemptuous pity; how else could I, right to her +merry, laughing face, have called this girl poor Semantha?</p> + +<p>I had at first no cause to notice her especially; she was poor, so was +I; she was in the ballet, so was I. True, I had already had heads nodded +sagely in my direction, and had heard voices solemnly murmur, "That +girl's going to do something yet," and all because I had gone on alone +and spoken a few lines loudly and clearly, and had gone off again, +without leaving the audience impressed with the idea that they had +witnessed the last agonized and dying breath of a girl killed by fright. +I had that much advantage, but we both drew the same amount of salary +per week,—five very torn and very dirty one-<!-- Page 279 --><a name='Page_279'></a>dollar bills. Of course +there could have been no rule nor reason for it, but it had so happened +that all the young women of the ballet—there were four—received their +salary in one-dollar bills. However, I was saying that we, the ballet, +dressed together at that time, and poor Semantha first attracted my +attention by her almost too great willingness to use my toilet soap, +instead of the common brown washing soap she had brought with her. At +some past time this soap must have been of the shape and size of a +building brick, but now it resembled a small dumb-bell, so worn was its +middle, so nobby its ends. Then, too, my pins were, to all intents and +purposes, her pins; my hair-pins her hair-pins; while worst of all, my +precious, real-for-true French rouge was <i>her</i> rouge.</p> + +<p>At that point I came near speaking, because poor Semantha was not +artistic in her make-up, and she painted not only her cheeks but her +eyes, her temples, her jaws, and quite a good sample of each side <!-- Page 280 --><a name='Page_280'></a>of +her neck. But just as I would be about to speak, I would bethink me of +those nights when, in the interest of art, I had to be hooked up behind, +and I would hold my peace.</p> + +<p>On the artistic occasions alluded to, I hooked Semantha up the back, and +then Semantha hooked up my back. Ah, what a comfort was that girl; as a +hooker-up of waists she was perfection. No taking hold of the two sides +of the waist, planting the feet firmly, and taking a huge breath, as if +the Vendôme column was about to be overthrown. No hooking of two-thirds +of the hooks and eyes, and then suddenly unhooking them, remarking that +there was a little mistake at the top hook. No putting of thumbs to the +mouth to relieve the awful numbness caused by terrible effort and +pinching. Ah, no! Semantha smiled,—she generally did that,—turned you +swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, +fastened that, fluttered to <!-- Page 281 --><a name='Page_281'></a>the top, exactly matched the top hook to +the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift +smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your +back was a joy until the act was over.</p> + +<p>That was all I had known of Semantha. Probably it was all I ever should +have known had not a sharp attack of sickness kept me away from the +theatre for a time, during which absence Semantha made the discovery +which was to bring her nearer to me.</p> + +<p>Finding my dressing place but a barren waste of pine board, Semantha +with smiling readiness turned to the dressing place on her left for a +pin or two, and was stricken with amazement when the milder of her two +companions remarked in a grudgingly unwilling tone, "You may take a few +of my pins and hair-pins if you are sure to pay them back again."</p> + +<p>While she was simply stunned for a mo<!-- Page 282 --><a name='Page_282'></a>ment, when the other companion, +with that rare, straightforward brutality for which she became so +deservedly infamous later on, snorted angrily: "No, you don't! Don't you +touch anything of mine! You can't sponge on me as you do on Clara!"</p> + +<p>Now Semantha was a German, as we were apt to find out if ever she grew +excited over anything; and whenever she had a strange word used to her, +she would repeat that word several times, first to make sure she fully +understood its meaning, next to impress it upon her memory; so there she +stood staring at her dressing mate, and slowly, questioningly repeated, +"Spoonge? spoonge? w'at is that spoonge?" And received for answer, +"<i>What is</i> it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," +continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; +that's what sponging is."</p> + +<p>Poor Semantha—astonished, insulted, frightened—turned her quivering +face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, <!-- Page 283 --><a name='Page_283'></a>my Fräulein +Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?"</p> + +<p>Then for the first time, and I honestly believe the last time in her +life, that other pretty blond, but woolly-brained, young woman rose to +the occasion—God bless her—and answered stoutly, "No, Clara never +thought you were stealing."</p> + +<p>So it happened that when I returned to work, and Semantha's excited and +very German welcome had been given, I noticed a change in her. When my +eyes met hers, instead of smiling instantly and broadly at me, her eyes +sank to the ground and her face flushed painfully. At last we were left +alone for a few moments. Quick as a flash, Semantha shut the door and +bolted it with the scissors. Then she faced me; but what a strange, new +Semantha it was! Her head was down, her eyes were down, her very body +seemed to droop. Never had I seen a human look so like a beaten dog. She +came quite close, both hands hanging heavily at <!-- Page 284 --><a name='Page_284'></a>her sides, and in a +low, hurried tone she began: "Clara, now Clara, now see, I've been usen +your soap—ach, it smells so goot!—nearly all der time!"—"Why," I +broke in, "you were welcome!"</p> + +<p>But she stopped me roughly with one word, "Wait," and then she went on. +"Und der pins—why, I can't no more count. Und der hair-pins, und der +paint," (her voice was rising now), "oh, der lofely soft pink paint! und +I used dem, I used 'em all. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem +all. You see, I be so green, fräulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, +I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, +und by Gott I didn't shteal!"</p> + +<p>I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, +"I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it."</p> + +<p>She looked me brightly in the eyes and answered: "You do? you <i>truly</i> +know dat?" gave a great sigh, and added with a <!-- Page 285 --><a name='Page_285'></a>fervour I fear I +ill-appreciated, "Oh, I hope you vill go to heaven!" then quickly +qualified it, "dat is, dat I don't mean right avay, dis minute—only ven +you can't keep avay any longer!"</p> + +<p>Then she sprang to her dress hanging on the hook, and after struggling +among the roots of her pocket, found the opening, and with triumph +breathing from every feature of her face, she brought forth a small +white cube, and cried out, "Youst you look at dat!"</p> + +<p>I did; it seemed of a stony structure, white with a chill thin line of +pink wandering forlornly through or on it (I am sure nothing could go +through it); but the worst thing about it was the strange and evil smell +emanating from it. And this evil, white, hard thing had been purchased +from a pedler under the name of soap, fine shaving or toilet soap, and +now Semantha was delightedly offering it to me, to use every night, and +I with immense fervour prom<!-- Page 286 --><a name='Page_286'></a>ised I would use it, just as soon as my own +was gone; and I mentally registered a solemn vow that the shadow of my +soap should never grow less.</p> + +<p>I soon discovered that poor Semantha was very ambitious; yes, in spite +of her faint German accent and the amusing abundance of negatives in her +conversation, she was ambitious. One night we had been called on to "go +on" as peasants and sing a chorus and do a country dance, and poor +Semantha had sung so freely and danced so gracefully and gayly, that it +was a pleasure to look at her. She was such a contrast to the two +others. One had sung in a thin nasal tone, and the expression of her +face was enough to take all the dance out of one's feet. With frowning +brows and thin lips tightly compressed, she attacked the figures with +such fell determination to do them right or die, that one could hardly +help hoping she <i>would</i> make a mistake and take the consequences. The +other,—the woolly-<!-- Page 287 --><a name='Page_287'></a>brained young person,—having absolutely no ear for +music or time, silently but vigorously worked her jaws through the +chorus, and affably ambled about, under everybody's feet, through the +dance, displaying all the stiff-kneed grace of a young, well-meaning +calf.</p> + +<p>When we were in our room, I told Semantha how well she had sung and +danced, and her face was radiant with delight. Then becoming very grave, +she said: "Oh, fräulein, how I vant to be an actor! Not a common van, +but" and she laid her hand with a childish gesture on her breast—"I +vant to be a big actor. Don' you tink I can ever be von—eh?"</p> + +<p>And looking into those bright, intelligent, squirrel-like eyes, I +answered, "I think it is very likely," Poor Semantha! we were to recall +those simple remarks, later on.</p> + +<p>Christmas being near, I was very busy working between acts upon +something intended for a present to my mother. This <!-- Page 288 --><a name='Page_288'></a>work was greatly +admired by all the girls; but never shall I forget the astonishment of +poor Semantha when she learned for whom it was intended.</p> + +<p>"Your mutter lets you love her yet—you would dare?" And as I only gazed +dumbly at her, she went on, while slow tears gathered in her eyes, "My +mutter hasn't let me love her since—since I vas big enough to be +knocked over."</p> + +<p>Through the talkativeness of an extra night-hand or scene-shifter, who +knew her family, I learned something of poor Semantha's private life. +Poor child! from the very first she had rested her bright brown eyes +upon the wrong side of life,—the seamy side,—and her own personal +share of the rough patchwork, composed of dismal drabs and sodden browns +and greens, had in it just one small patch of rich and brilliant +colour,—the theatre. Of the pure tints of sky and field and watery +waste and fruit and flower, she knew nothing. But what of that!<!-- Page 289 --><a name='Page_289'></a> had she +not secured this bit of rosy radiance, and might it not in time be added +to, until it should incarnadine the whole fabric of her life?</p> + +<p>Semantha's father was dead; her mother was living—worse luck. For had +she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and +reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to +support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she +lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present +rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young +tempers, a hardener of young hearts. Many a woman of quick, short temper +has a kind heart; while even the sullenly sulky woman generally has a +few rich, sweet drops of the milk of human kindness, which she is +willing to bestow upon her own immediate belongings. But Semantha's +mother was not of these. How, one might ask, had this wretch obtained +two good husbands? Yes, Semantha had a stepfather, <!-- Page 290 --><a name='Page_290'></a>and the only excuse +for the suicidal marriage act as performed by these two victims was that +the woman was well enough to look upon—a trim, bright-eyed, brown +creature with the mark of the beast well hidden from view.</p> + +<p>When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and +money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and +sullen, silent lips. When the child came home with empty hands, and gave +only cheerfully performed hard manual labour, she was received with +fierce eyes, cruel rankling words, and many a cut and heavy blow, and +was often thrust from the house itself, because 'twas known the girl was +afraid of darkness.</p> + +<a name='Clara_1870'></a><p>[Illustration: <i>Clara Morris before coming to Daly's Theatre in 1870</i>]</p> + +<p>Her stepfather then would secretly let her in, though sometimes she +dared go no farther than the shed, and there she would sit the whole +night through, in all the helpless agony of fright. But all this was as +nothing compared to the cruelty she had yet to meet <!-- Page 291 --><a name='Page_291'></a>out to poor +Semantha, whose greatest fault seemed to be her intense longing for some +one to love. Her mother <i>would not</i> be loved, her own father had wisely +given the whole thing up, her step-father <i>dared</i> not be loved. So, when +the second family began to materialize, Semantha's joy knew no bounds. +What a welcome she gave each newcomer! How she worked and walked and +cooed and sang and made herself an humble bond-maiden before them. And +they loved her and cried to her, and bit hard upon her needle stabbed +forefinger with their first wee, white, triumphant teeth, and for just a +little, little time poor Semantha was not poor, but very rich indeed. +And that strange creature, who had brought them all into the world, +looked on and saw the love and smiled a nasty smile; and Semantha saw +the smile, and her heart quaked, as well it might. For so soon as these +little men could stand firmly on their sturdy German legs, their gentle +mother taught them, deliberately taught them, <!-- Page 292 --><a name='Page_292'></a>to call their sister +names, the meaning being as naught to them, but enough to break a +sister's heart. To jeer at and disobey her, so that they became a pair +of burly little monsters, who laughed loud, affected laughter at the +word "love," and swore with many long-syllabled German oaths that they +would kick with their copper-toes any one who tried to kiss them. Ah! +when you find a fiercely violent temper allied to a stone-cold heart, +offer you up an earnest prayer to Him for the safety of the souls coming +under the dominion and the power of that woman.</p> + +<p>I recall one action of Semantha's that goes far, I think, to prove what +a brave and loyal heart the untaught German girl possessed. She was very +sensitive to ridicule, and when people made fun of her, though she would +laugh good-humouredly, many times she had to keep her eyes down to hide +the brimming tears. Now her stepfathers name was a funny one to American +ears, and always provoked a laugh, while her own <!-- Page 293 --><a name='Page_293'></a>family name was not +funny. Yet because the man had shown her a little timid kindness, she +faithfully bore his name, and through storms of jeering laughter, clear +to the dismal end, she called herself Semantha Waacker.</p> + +<p>Once we spoke of it, and she exclaimed in her excited way: "Yes, I am +alvays Waacker. Why not, ven he is so goot? Why, why, dat man, dat vater +Waacker, he have kissed me two time already. Vunce here" (placing her +finger on a vicious scar upon her check), "von de mutter cut me bad, und +vun odder time, ven I come very sick. Und de mutter seen him in de +glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a +little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out +de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before +everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha +Waacker."</p> + +<p>The unfortunate man's occupation was also <!-- Page 294 --><a name='Page_294'></a>something that provoked +laughter, when one first heard of it; but as Semantha herself was my +informant, and I had grown to care for her, I managed by a great effort +to keep my face serious. How deeply this fact impressed her, I was to +learn later on.</p> + +<p>Christmas had come, and I was in high glee. I had many gifts, simple and +inexpensive most of them, but they were perfectly satisfactory to me. My +dressing-room mates had remembered me, too, in the most characteristic +fashion. The pretty, woolly-brained girl had with smiling satisfaction +presented me with a curious structure of perforated cardboard and gilt +paper, intended to catch flies. Its fragility may be imagined from the +fact that it broke twice before I got it back into its box; still there +was, I am sure, not another girl in Cleveland who could have found for +sale a fly-trap at Christmas time.</p> + +<p>The straightforward one had presented me with an expensively repellent +gift in the form <!-- Page 295 --><a name='Page_295'></a>of a brown earthenware jug, a cross between a Mexican +idol and a pitcher. A hideous thing, calculated to frighten children or +sober drunken men. I know I should have nearly died of thirst before I +could have forced myself to swallow a drop of liquid coming from that +horrible interior.</p> + +<p>Semantha was nervous and silent, and the performance was well on before +she caught me alone, out in a dark passageway. Then she began as she +always did when excited, with: "Clara, now Clara, you know I told my +vater of you, for dat you were goot to me, und he say, vat he alvays +say—not'ing. Dat day I come tell you vat his work vas, I vent home und +I say, 'Vater Waacker, I told my fräulein you made your livin' in de +tombstone yard,' und he say, quvick like, 'Vell,'—you know my vater no +speak ver goot English" (Semantha's own English was weakening +fast),—"'vell, I s'pose she make some big fool laugh, den, like +everybodies, eh?' Und I say, 'No, she don't laugh! de lips <!-- Page 296 --><a name='Page_296'></a>curdle a +little'" (curdle was Semantha's own word for tremble or quiver. If she +shivered even with cold, she curdled with cold), "'but she don't laugh, +und she say, "It vas the best trade in de vorldt for you, 'cause it must +be satisfactions to you to work all day long on somebody's tombstone."'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Semantha!" I cried, "why did you tell him that?"</p> + +<p>"But vy not?" asked the girl, innocently. "Und he look at me hard, und +his mouth curdle, und den he trow back his head und he laugh, pig +laughs, und stamp de feet und say over und over, 'Mein Gott! mein Gott! +satisfackshuns ter vurk on somebody's tombstones—<i>some</i>body's. Und she +don't laugh at my vurk, nieder, eh? Vell, vell! dat fräulein she tinks +sometings! Say, Semantha, don't it dat you like a Kriss-Krihgle present +to make to her, eh?' Und I say, dat very week, dere have to be new shoes +for all de kinder, und not vun penny vill be left. Und he shlap me my +back, <!-- Page 297 --><a name='Page_297'></a>une! say, 'Never mindt, I'll make him,' und so he did, und here +it is," thrusting some small object into my hand. "Und if you laugh, +fräulein, I tink I die, 'cause it is so mean und little."</p> + +<p>Then stooping her head, she pressed a kiss on my bare shoulder and +rushed headlong down the stairs, leaving me standing there in the dark +with "it" in my hand. Poor Semantha! "it" lies here now, after all these +years; but where are you, Semantha? Are you still dragging heavily +through life, or have you reached that happy shore, where hearts are +hungry never more, but filled with love divine?</p> + +<p>"It" is a little bit of white marble, highly polished and perfectly +carved to imitate a tiny Bible. A pretty toy it is to other eyes; but to +mine it is infinitely pathetic, and goes well with another toy in my +possession, a far older one, which cost a human life.</p> + +<p>Well, from that Christmas-tide Semantha <!-- Page 298 --><a name='Page_298'></a>was never quite herself again. +For a time she was extravagantly gay, laughing at everything or nothing. +Then she became curiously absent-minded. She would stop sometimes in the +midst of what she might be doing, and stand stock-still, with fixed +eyes, and thoughts evidently far enough away from her immediate +surroundings. Sometimes she left unfinished the remark she might be +making. Once I saw a big, hulking-looking fellow walking away from the +theatre door with her. The night was bad, too, but I noticed that she +carried her own bundle, while he slouched along with his hands in his +pocket, and I felt hurt and offended for her.</p> + +<p>And then one night Semantha was late, and we wondered greatly, since she +usually came very early, the theatre being the one bright spot in life +to her. We were quite dressed, and were saying how lucky it was there +was no dance to-night, or it would be spoiled, when she came in. Her +face was <!-- Page 299 --><a name='Page_299'></a>dreadful; even the straightforward one exclaimed in a shocked +tone, "You must be awful sick!"</p> + +<p>But Semantha turned her hot, dry-looking eyes upon her and answered +slowly and dully, "I'm not sick."</p> + +<p>"Not sick, with that white face and those poor curdling hands?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sick, I'm going avay."</p> + +<p>Just then the act was called, and down the stairs we had to dash to take +our places. We wore pages' dresses, and as we went Semantha stood in the +doorway in her shabby street gown and followed us with wistful eyes—she +did so love a page's costume.</p> + +<p>When we were "off" we hastened back to our dressing room. Semantha was +still there. She moved stiffly about, packing together her few +belongings; but her manner silenced us. She had taken everything else, +when her eyes fell upon a remnant of that evil-smelling soap. She paused +a bit, <!-- Page 300 --><a name='Page_300'></a>then in that same slow way she said, "You never, never used that +soap after all, Clara?" and when I answered: "Oh, yes, I have. I've used +it several times," she put her hand out quickly, and took the thing, and +slipped it into her pocket, and then she stood a moment and looked +about; and if ever anguish grew in human eyes, it slowly grew in hers. +Her face was pale before; it was white now.</p> + +<p>At last her eyes met mine, then a sudden tremor crossed her face from +brow to chin, a piteous slow smile crept around her lips, and in that +dull and hopeless tone she said, "You see, my fräulein, I'll never be a +big actor after all," and turned her back upon me, and slowly left the +room and the theatre, without one kiss or handshake, even from me. And +I, who knew her, did not guess why. She went out of my life forever, +stepping down to that lower world of which I had only heard, but by +God's mercy did not know.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 301 --><a name='Page_301'></a>That same sad night a group of men, close-guarded, travelled to +Columbus, that city of great prisons and asylums, and one of those +guarded men was poor Semantha's lover, alas! her convicted lover now; +and she, having cast from her her proudest hope, her high ambition, +trusting a little in his innocence, trusting entirely in his love, now +followed him steadily to the prison's very gate.</p> + +<p>After this came a long silence. One girl had fallen from our ranks, but +what of that? Another girl had taken her place. We were still four, +marching on,—eyes front, step firm and regular,—ready when the quick +order came quickly to obey. There could be no halt, no turning back to +the help of the figure already growing dim, of one who had fallen by the +wayside.</p> + +<p>After a time rumours came to us, at first faint and vague—uncertain, +then more distinct—more dreadful! And the stronger the rumours grew, +the lower were the voices <!-- Page 302 --><a name='Page_302'></a>with which we discussed them; since we were +young, and vice was strange to us, and we were being forced to believe +that she who had so recently been our companion was now—was—well, to +be brief, she wore her rouge in daylight now upon the public street.</p> + +<p>Poor, poor Semantha! They were playing "Hamlet," the night of the worst +and strongest rumour, and as I heard Ophelia assuring one of her noble +friends or relatives:—</p> + +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<span>"You may wear your rue with a difference,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I could not help saying to myself that "rue" was not the only thing that +could be so treated, since we all had rouge upon our cheeks; yet +Semantha—ah, God forgive her—wore her rouge with a difference.</p> + +<p>A little longer and we were all in Columbus, where a portion of each +season was passed, our manager keeping his company there during the +sitting of the legislature.<!-- Page 303 --><a name='Page_303'></a> We had secured boarding-houses,—the memory +of mine will never die,—and in fact our round bodies were beginning to +fit themselves to the square holes they were expected to fill for the +next few weeks, when we found ourselves sneezing and coughing our way +through that spirit-crushing thing they call a "February thaw." +Rehearsal had been long, and I was tired. I had quite a distance to +walk, and my mind was full of professional woe. Here was I, a ballet +girl who had taken a cold whose proportions simply towered over that +nursed by the leading lady's self; and as I slipped and slid slushily +homeward, I asked myself angrily what a fairy was to do with a +handkerchief,—and in heaven's name, what was that fairy to do without +one. The dresses worn by fairies—theatrical, of course—in those days +would seem something like a fairy mother-hubbard now, at all events a +home toilet of some sort, so very proper were they; but even so there +was no provision made for handkerchiefs, no <!-- Page 304 --><a name='Page_304'></a>thought apparently that +stage fairies might have colds in their star-crowned heads.</p> + +<p>So as my wet skirt viciously slapped my icy ankles, I almost tearfully +declared to myself I would have to have a handkerchief, even though it +wore pinned to my wings, only who on earth could get it off in time for +me to use? Now if poor Semantha were only—and there I stopped, my eyes, +my mind, fixed upon a woman a little way ahead of me, who stood staring +in a window. Her figure drooped as though she were weary or very, very +sad, and I said to myself, "I don't know what you are looking at, but I +<i>do</i> know it's something you want awfully," and just then she turned and +faced me. My heart gave a plunge against my side. I knew her. One +woman's glance, lightning-quick, mathematically true, and I had her +photograph—the last, the very last I ever took of poor Semantha.</p> + +<p>As her eyes met mine, they opened wide and bright. The rosy colour +flushed into her <!-- Page 305 --><a name='Page_305'></a>face, her lips smiled. She gave a little forward +movement, then before I had completed calling out her name, like a flash +she changed, her brows were knit, her lips close-pressed, and all her +face, save for the shameful red sign on her cheeks, was very white. I +stood quite still—not so, she. She walked stiffly by, till on the very +line with me she shot out one swift, sidelong glance and slightly shook +her head; yet as she passed I clearly heard that grievous sound that +coming from a woman's throat tells of a swallowed sob.</p> + +<p>Still I stood watching her as she moved away, regardless quite of watery +pool or deepest mud; she marched straight on and at the first corner +disappeared, but never turned her head. As she had left me first without +good-by, so she met me now without a greeting, and passed me by without +farewell. And I, who knew her, understood at last the reason why. Poor +wounded, loyal heart, who would deny herself a longed-for <!-- Page 306 --><a name='Page_306'></a>pleasure +rather than put the tiniest touch of shame upon so small a person as a +ballet girl whom one year ago she had so lovingly called friend.</p> + +<p>At last I turned to go. As I came to the window into which Semantha had +so lovingly been gazing, I looked in too, and saw a window full of fine, +thick underwear for men.</p> + +<p>Two crowded, busy years swept swiftly by before I heard once more, and +for the last time, of poor Semantha. I was again in Columbus for a short +time, and was boarding at the home of one of the prison wardens. +Whenever I could catch this man at home, I took pains to make him talk, +and he told me many interesting tales. They were scarcely of a nature to +be repeated to young children after they had gone to bed, that is, if +you wanted the children to stay in bed; but they were interesting, and +one day the talk was of odd names,—his own was funny,—and at last he +mentioned Semantha's. Of course I <!-- Page 307 --><a name='Page_307'></a>was alert, of course I questioned +him—how often I have wished I had not. For the tale he told was sad. +Nothing new, nay, it was common even; but so is "battle, murder, and +sudden death," from which, nevertheless, we pray each day to be +delivered. Ah! his tale was sad if common.</p> + +<p>It seemed that when Semantha followed that treacherous young brute, her +convicted lover, she had at first obtained a situation as a servant, so +she could not come to the prison every visiting day, and what was worse +in his eyes, she was most poorly paid, and had but very small sums to +spend upon extras for him. He grumbled loudly, and she was torn with +loving pity. Then quite suddenly she was stricken down with sickness, +and her precious brute had to do without her visits for a time and the +small comforts she provided for him, until one visiting day he fairly +broke down and roared with rage and grief over the absence of his +tobacco.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 308 --><a name='Page_308'></a>The hospital sheltered Semantha as long as the rules permitted, but +when she left it she was weak and worn and homeless, and as she crept +slowly from place to place, a woman old and well-dressed spoke to her, +calling her Mamie Someone, and then apologized for her mistake. Next she +asked a question or two, and ended by telling Semantha she was the very +girl she wanted—to come with her. She could rest for a few days at her +home, and after that she should have steady employment and better pay, +and—oh! did I not tell you it was a common tale?</p> + +<p>But when on visiting day the child with frightened eyes told what she +had discovered about her new home, the soulless monster bade her stay +there, and every dollar made in her new accursed trade was lavished upon +him.</p> + +<p>By a little sickness and a great deal of fraud the wretch got himself +into the prison hospital for a time, and there my informant <!-- Page 309 --><a name='Page_309'></a>learned to +know the pair quite well. She not only loved him passionately, but she +had for all his faults of selfishness and general ugliness the tender +patience of a mother. And he traded upon her loving pity by pretending +he could obtain the privilege of this or immunity from that if he had +only so many dollars to give to the guard or keeper. And she, poor +loving fool, hastened a few steps farther down the road of shame to +obtain for him the money, receiving in return perhaps a rough caress or +two that brought the sunshine to her heart and joy into her eyes.</p> + +<p>His term of imprisonment was nearly over, and Semantha was preparing for +his coming freedom. His demands seemed unending. His hat would be +old-fashioned, and his boots and his undergarments were old, etc. Then +he wanted her to have two tickets for Bellefontaine ready, that they +might leave Columbus at once, and Semantha was excited and worried. "One +day," said the warden, "she <!-- Page 310 --><a name='Page_310'></a>asked to see me for a moment, and I +exclaimed at sight of her, 'What is it that's happened?'</p> + +<p>"Her face was fairly radiant with joy, and she shook all over. It seemed +as though she could not speak at first, and then she burst forth, 'Mr. +S——, now Mr. S——, you don't much like my poor boy, but joust tink +now how goot he is! Ach, Gott, he tells me ven all der tings are got, +und de tickets too, have I some money left I shall buy a ring, und +then,'—she clutched my arm with both her hands, and dropped her head +forward on them, as she continued in a stifled voice,—und then we go to +a minister and straight we get married.'</p> + +<p>"And," continued Mr. S——, "as I looked at her I caught myself wishing +she were dead, that she might escape the misery awaiting her.</p> + +<p>"At last the day came. Her lover and a pal of his went out together. +Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not <!-- Page 311 --><a name='Page_311'></a>pleased at the pal's +presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to +the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new +finery, but insisted upon going with his friend. Semantha yielded, of +course, and on the way her lover laughed and jested—asked for the +tickets, then the ring, and putting on the latter declared that he was +married to <i>her</i> now, and would wear the ring until they saw the +'Bible-sharp,' and then she should be married to <i>him</i>; and Semantha +brightened up again and was happy.</p> + +<p>"They came at last to the house they sought. It was a low kind of +neighbourhood, had a deserted look, and was next door to a saloon. The +pal said there were no women in the house, and Semantha had better not +come in. The lover bade her wait, and they went in and closed the door, +and left the girl outside. There she waited such a weary time, then at +last she rang—quite timidly at first, then louder, faster, too, and a +scowling fellow from <!-- Page 312 --><a name='Page_312'></a>the saloon told her that the house was empty. She +rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman. Then she ceased, but +walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable +yard. She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her +heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a +good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew +Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with +yer feller and his pal?'</p> + +<p>"'She didn't say nary a word,' said the boy, 'she didn't say nary a +word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same +as a cat's, and I says: "Why, I seed 'em ketch the 4.30 train to +Bellefontaine! They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn't scare +a darn, they just laughed and laughed." And, Boss, something like a +tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up +to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still +<!-- Page 313 --><a name='Page_313'></a>as still after that doglike tremble went away. I got muddled, and at +last I says, "Semantha, hav' yer got no sponds?" She didn't seem to see +me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, "Say, Semantha! +where yer goin' to? what yer goin' ter do now?" and, Boss, she done the +toughest thing I ever seen. She jes' slowly lifted up her hands and +looked at 'em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and +then jes' as slow she turns 'em over, they were bare and empty, and the +palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves 'em a +bit, and then without raisin' up her eyes, she jes' smiles a little +slow, slow smile.</p> + +<p>"'And then she turned 'round and walked away without nary a word at all; +but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and +she dragged her feet along jes' like an old, old woman, what was too +tired to live. I was skeered like, and thought I'd come here and tell +you, but I looked back to watch her. 'Twas almost dark then, and <!-- Page 314 --><a name='Page_314'></a>when +she came to the crossin', the wind was blowin' so she could hardly +stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she +looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to +the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther' +anything there; but ther' wasn't nothin' but them dirty, low-hangin' +clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome. And then right of a suddent +she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together. +It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty +hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, "My God, it is +too much! I cannot, cannot bear it!" Then she draw'd herself up quite +tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could +carry her straight toward the river.'"</p> + +<p>And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor +Semantha. I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more +effectually by remarking:—</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 315 --><a name='Page_315'></a>Yes, she was a bright, promising, true-hearted girl; but you see she +went wrong, and the sinner has to pay both here and hereafter."</p> + +<p>"Don't," I hotly cried. "Don't go on! don't! Sin? sin? Don't hurl that +word at her, the embodiment of self-sacrifice! Sin? where there is no +law, there can be no sin. And who had taught her anything? She was a +heathen. So far as one person can be the cause of another person's +wrong-doing, so far was Semantha's mother the guilty cause of Semantha's +loving fall. She was a heathen. She had been taught just one law—that +she was always to serve other people. That law she truly kept unto the +end. Of that great book, the Bible, closely packed with all sustaining +promises, she knew naught. I tell you the only Bible she ever held +within her hand was that mimic one of marble her father carved for me. +She was a heathen. Of that all-enduring One—'chief among ten thousand +and altogether lovely,' for whom <!-- Page 316 --><a name='Page_316'></a>there was no thing too small to love, +no sin too great to pardon—she knew nothing. Even that woman who with +wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, +yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and +true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its +necessity, nor its power.</p> + +<p>"Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her. God +placed her; and if she fell by the wayside in ignorance, she <i>did not</i> +fall from the knowledge of her Maker."</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + +***** This file should be named 13277-h.htm or 13277-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/7/13277/ + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Stage Confidences + +Author: Clara Morris + +Release Date: August 25, 2004 [EBook #13277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + + + + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris (1883)_] + + +_STAGE CONFIDENCES_ + +TALKS ABOUT PLAYERS AND PLAY ACTING + +BY + +CLARA MORRIS + + +AUTHOR OF + +"LIFE ON THE STAGE," +"THE PASTEBOARD CROWN," ETC. + + +_ILLUSTRATED_ + + +LONDON +CHARLES H. KELLY + +1902 + + + _To + + MARY ANDERSON + + "THE FAIR + THE CHASTE + THE UNEXPRESSIVE SHE"_ + + + + +_GREETING + + +To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their +confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition. + +Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage +over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can +answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred "tiffs" of angry +disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer +that turneth away the wrath of one. + +Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your +addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are +grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, +very foolish,--yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, +very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who +write to her,--no more can I, and that disturbs me, because I like +girls and I hate to disappoint them. + +But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my +friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of +warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my +assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to +laughter with the absurdities,--that are so funny in their telling, +though so painful in their happening. + +Clara Morris._ + + + + +_CONTENTS_ + + + CHAPTER + + I. A WORD OF WARNING + II. THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE + III. IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S + IV. "MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE + V. THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE + VI. "ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY + VII. A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG" + VIII. THE CAT IN "CAMILLE" + IX. "ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE + X. J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT + XI. STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON" + XII. THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN + XIII. THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE + XIV. THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS + XV. SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES + XVI. THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION + XVII. A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS + XVIII. A BELATED WEDDING + XIX. SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR + XX. FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE + XXI. STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR + XXII. POOR SEMANTHA + + + + +_ILLUSTRATIONS_ + + + CLARA MORRIS (1883) + CLARA MORRIS IN "L' ARTICLE 47" + CHARLES MATTHEWS + CLARA MORRIS IN "ALIXE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "MISS MULTON" + CLARA MORRIS AS "ODETTE" + MRS. GILBERT, AUGUSTIN DALY, JAMES LEWIS, AND LOUIS JAMES + JOHN E. OWENS + "LITTLE BREECHES" + CLARA MORRIS AS "JANE EYRE" + CLARA MORRIS IN "THE SPHINX" + CLARA MORRIS IN "EVADNE" + CLARA MORRIS AS "CAMILLE" + TOMMASO SALVINI + W.J. LE MOYNE + CLARA MORRIS BEFORE COMING TO DALY'S THEATRE IN 1870 + + + + +_CHAPTER I + +A WORD OF WARNING_ + + +Every actress of prominence receives letters from young girls and women +who wish to go on the stage, and I have my share. These letters are of +all kinds. Some are extravagant, some enthusiastic, some foolish, and a +few unutterably pathetic; but however their writers may differ +otherwise, there is one positive conviction they unconsciously share, +and there is one question they each and every one put to me: so it is +_that_ question that must be first answered, and that conviction that +must be shaken. + +The question is, "What chance has a girl in private life of getting on +the stage?" and to reply at once with brutal truthfulness and straight +to the point, I must say, "Almost none." + +But to answer her instant "Why?" I must first shake that positive +conviction each writer has, that she is the only one that burns with the +high ambition to be an actress, who hopes and fears, and secretly +studies Juliet. It would be difficult to convince her that her own +state, her own city, yes, her own block, could each produce a girl who +firmly believes that _her_ talent is equally great, and who has just the +same strength of hope for the future stage existence. + +Every city in the country is freely sprinkled with stage-loving, or, as +they are generally termed, "stage-struck" girls. It is more than +probable that at least a half-dozen girls in her own circle secretly +cherish a hope for a glorious career on the stage, while her bosom +friend most likely knows every line of _Pauline_ and has practised the +death scene of _Camille_ hundreds of times. Surely, then, the would-be +actresses can see that their own numbers constitute one of the greatest +obstacles in their path. + +But that is by no means all. Figures are always hard things to manage, +and there is another large body of them, between a girl and her chances, +in the number of trained actresses who are out of engagements. There is +probably no profession in the world so overcrowded as is the profession +of acting. "Why, then," the manager asks, "should I engage a girl who +does not even know how to walk across the stage, when there are so many +trained girls and women to choose from?" + +"But," says or thinks some girl who reads these words, "you were an +outsider, poor and without friends, yet you got your chance." + +Very true; I did. But conditions then were different. The stage did not +hold then the place in public estimation which it now does. Theatrical +people were little known and even less understood. Even the people who +did not think all actors drunkards and all actresses immoral, did think +they were a lot of flighty, silly buffoons, not to be taken seriously +for a moment. The profession, by reason of this feeling, was rather a +close corporation. The recruits were generally young relatives of the +older actors. There was plenty of room, and people began at the bottom +quite cheerfully and worked up. When a "ballet" was wanted, the manager +advertised for extra girls, and sometimes received as many as three +applicants in one day--when twenty were wanted. Such an advertisement +to-day would call out a veritable mob of eager girls and women. _There_ +was my chance. To-day I should have no chance at all. + +The theatrical ranks were already growing crowded when the "Schools of +Acting" were started, and after that--goodness gracious! actors and +actresses started up as suddenly and numerously as mushrooms in an old +pasture. And they, even _they_ stand in the way of the beginner. + +I know, then, of but three powers that can open the stage door to a girl +who comes straight from private life,--a fortune, great influence, or +superlative beauty. With a large amount of money a girl can +unquestionably tempt a manager whose business is not too good, to give +her an engagement. If influence is used, it must indeed be of a high +social order to be strong enough favourably to affect the box-office +receipts, and thus win an opening for the young debutante. As for +beauty, it must be something very remarkable that will on its strength +alone secure a girl an engagement. Mere prettiness will not do. Nearly +all American girls are pretty. It must be a radiant and compelling +beauty, and every one knows that there are not many such beauties, +stage-struck or otherwise. + +The next question is most often put by the parents or friends of the +would-be actress; and when with clasped hands and in-drawn breath they +ask about the temptations peculiar to the profession of acting, all my +share of the "old Adam" rises within me. For you see I honour the +profession in which I have served, girl and woman, so many years, and it +hurts me to have one imply that it is filled with strange and terrible +pitfalls for women. I have received the confidences of many +working-women,--some in professions, some in trades, and some in +service,--and on these confidences I have founded my belief that every +woman who works for her living must eat with her bread the bitter salt +of insult. Not even the plain girl escapes paying this penalty put upon +her unprotected state. + +Still, insult does not mean temptation, by any means. But careful +inquiry has shown me that temptation assails working-women in any walk +of life, and that the profession of acting has nothing weird or novel to +offer in the line of danger; to be quite frank, all the possibilities of +resisting or yielding lie with the young woman herself. What will tempt +one beyond her powers of resistance, will be no temptation at all to +another. + +However, parents wishing to frighten their daughters away from the stage +have naturally enough set up several great bugaboos collectively known +as "temptations"--individually known as the "manager," the "public," +etc. + +There seems to be a general belief that a manager is a sort of dramatic +"Moloch," upon whose altar is sacrificed all ambitious femininity. In +declaring that to be a mistaken idea, I do not for a moment imply that +managers are angels; for such a suggestion would beyond a doubt secure +me a quiet summer at some strictly private sanitarium; but I do mean to +say that, like the gentleman whom we all know by hearsay, but not by +sight, they are not so black as they are painted. + +Indeed, the manager is more often the pursued than the pursuer. Women +there are, attractive, well-looking, well-dressed, some of whom, alas! +in their determination to succeed, cast morality overboard, as an +aeronaut casts over ballast, that they may rise more quickly. Now while +these women bestow their adulation and delicate flattery upon the +manager, he is not likely to disturb the modest and retiring newcomer in +his company by unwelcome attentions. And should the young stranger prove +earnest and bright, she would be doubly safe; for then she would have +for the manager a commercial value, and he would be the last man to hurt +or anger her by a too warmly expressed admiration, and so drive her into +another theatre, taking all her possible future popularity and drawing +power with her. + +One other and better word I wish to add. If the unprotected young +beginner finds herself the victim of some odious creature's persistent +advances, letters, etc., let her not fret and weep and worry, but let +her go quietly to her manager and lay her trouble before him, and, my +word for it, he will find a way of freeing her from her tormentor. Yes, +the manager is, generally speaking, a kindly, cheery, sharp business +man, and no Moloch at all. + +As for the "public," no self-respecting girl need be in danger from the +"public." Admiring young rakes no longer have coaches waiting round the +corner, into which they thrust their favourite actress as she leaves the +theatre. If a man sends an actress extravagant letters or flowers, +anonymously, she can of course do nothing, but equally of course she +will not wear his flowers and so encourage him boldly to step up and +speak to her some day. If the gentleman sends her jewellery or valuable +gifts of any kind, rest assured his name will accompany the offering; +then the actress has but one thing to do, send the object back at once. +If the infatuated one is a gentleman and worthy of her notice, he will +surely find a perfectly correct and honourable way of making her +acquaintance, otherwise she is well rid of him. No, I see no danger +threatening a young actress from the "public." + +There is danger in drifting at any time, so it may be well to warn young +actresses against drifting into a too strong friendship. No matter how +handsome or clever a man may be, if he approaches a modest girl with +coarse familiarity, with brutalities on his lips, she is shocked, +repelled, certainly not tempted. But let us say that the young actress +feels rather strange and uncomfortable in her surroundings, that she is +only on a smiling "good morning and good evening" footing with the +company, and she has been promised a certain small part, and then at the +last moment the part is given to some one else. The disappointment is +cruel, and the suspicion that people are laughing in their sleeves over +the slight put upon her makes her feel sick and faint with shame, and +just then a friendly hand places a chair for her and a kind voice says: +"I'm awfully sorry you missed that chance, for I'm quite sure you would +do the part far and away better than that milliner's block will. But +don't distress yourself, your chance will come, and you will know how to +make the most of it--I am sure." + +And all the time the plain, perhaps the elderly man is speaking, he is +shielding her from the eyes of the other people, and from her very soul +she is grateful to him, and she holds up her head and smiles bravely. + +Not long after, perhaps, she does get a chance, and with joyous eyes she +watches for the coming of the man who comforted her, that she may tell +him of her good luck. And his pleasure is plain, and he assures her that +she will succeed. And he, an experienced actor, waits in the entrance to +see her play her small part, and shakes her hand and congratulates her +when she comes off, and even tells her what to do next time at such a +point, and her heart warms within her and is filled with gratitude for +this "sympathetic friend," who helps her and has faith in her future. +The poor child little dreams that temptation may be approaching her, +softly, quietly, in the guise of friendship. So, all unconsciously, she +grows to rely upon the advice of this quiet, unassuming man. She looks +for his praise, for his approval. By and by their companionship reaches +beyond the walls of the theatre. She respects him, admires, trusts him. +Trusts him--he may be worthy, he may not! But it would be well for the +young actresses to be on their guard against the "sympathetic friend." + +Since we are speaking about absolute beginners, perhaps a word of +warning may be given against _pretended_ critics. The young actress +trembles at the bare words "newspaper man." She ought to know that a +critic on a respectable paper holds a responsible position. When he +serves a prominent and a leading journal, he is frequently recognized as +an authority, and has a social as well as a professional position to +maintain. Further, the professional woman does not strongly attract the +critic personally. There is no glamour about stage people to him; but +should he desire to make an actress's acquaintance, he would do so in +the perfectly correct manner of a gentleman. But this is not known to +the young stranger within the theatrical gates, and through her +ignorance, which is far from bliss, she may be subjected to a +humiliating and even dangerous experience. I am myself one of several +women whom I know to have been victimized in early days. + +The beginner, then, fearing above all things the newspaper, receives one +evening a note common in appearance, coarse in expression, requesting +her acquaintance, and signed "James Flotsam," let us say. Of course she +pays no attention, and two nights later a card reaches her--a very +doubtful one at that--bearing the name "James Flotsam," and in the +corner, _Herald_. She may be about to refuse to see the person, but some +one will be sure to exclaim, "For mercy's sake! don't make an enemy on +the 'press.'" + +And trembling at the idea of being attacked or sneered at in print, +without one thought of asking what _Herald_ this unknown represents, +without remembering that Miller's Pond or Somebody-else's Corners may +have a _Herald_ she hastens to grant to this probably ignorant young +lout the unchaperoned interview she would instantly refuse to a +gentleman whose name was even well known to her; and trembling with fear +and hope she will listen to his boastings "of the awful roasting he gave +Billy This or Dick That," referring thus to the most prominent actors of +the day, or to his promises of puffs for herself "when old Brown or +Smith are out of the office" (the managing and the city editors both +being jealous of him, and blue pencilling him just for spite); and if +Mr. Flotsam does not, without leave, bring up and present his chum, Mr. +Jetsam, the young woman will be fortunate. + +A little quiet thought will convince her that an editor would not assign +such a person to report the burning of a barn or the interruption of a +dog fight, and with deep mortification she will discover her mistake. +The trick is as old as it is contemptible, and many a great paper has +had its name put to the dishonourable use of frightening a young actress +into an acquaintance with a self-styled critic. + +Does this seem a small matter to you? Then you are mistaken. There are +few things more serious for a young woman than an unworthy or +undesirable acquaintance. She will be judged, not by her many correct +friends, but by her one incorrect one. Again, feeling fear of his power +to work her injury, she ceases really to be a free agent, and Heaven +knows what unwise concessions she may be flurried into; and of all the +dangers visible or invisible in the path of a good girl, the most +terrible is "opportunity." If you wish to avoid danger, if you wish to +save yourself some face-reddening memory, give no one the "opportunity" +to abuse your confidence, to wound you by word or deed. Ought I to point +out one other unpleasant possibility? Temptation may approach the +somewhat advanced young actress through money and power in the guise of +the "patron of Art"--not a common form of temptation by any means. But +what _has_ been may be again, and it is none the easier to resist +because it is unusual. When a young girl, with hot impatience, feels she +is not advancing as rapidly as she should, the wealthy "patron of Art" +declares it is folly for her to plod along so slowly, that he will free +her from all trammels, he will provide play, wardrobe, company, and +show the world that she is already an artist. To her trembling objection +that she could only accept such tremendous aid from one of her own +family, he would crushingly reply that "Art" (with a very big A) should +rise above common conventionalities; that he does not think of _her_ +personally, but only the advance of professional "Art"; and if she must +have it so, why-er, she may pay him back in the immediate future, though +if she were the passionate lover of "Art" he had believed her to be, she +would accept the freedom he offered and waste no thought on "ways and +means" or "hows and whys." + +Ah, poor child, the freedom he offers would be a more cruel bondage than +slavery itself! The sensitive, proud girl would never place herself +under such heavy obligations to any one on earth. She would keep her +vanity in check, and patiently or impatiently hold on her way,--free, +independent,--owing her final success to her own honest work and God's +blessing. Every girl should learn these hard words by heart, _Rien ne se +donne, tout se paye ici-bas!_ "Everything is paid for in this world!" + +A number of young girls have asked me to give them some idea of the +duties of a beginner in the profession, or what claims the theatre makes +upon her time. Very well. We will first suppose you a young and +attractive girl. You have been carefully reared and have been protected +by all the conventionalities of refined social life. Now you enter the +theatrical profession, depending solely upon your salary for your +support, meaning to become a great actress and to keep a spotless +reputation, and you will find your work cut out for you. At the stage +door you will have to leave quite a parcel of conventional rules. In the +first place, you will have to go about _alone_ at night as well as by +day. Your salary won't pay for a maid or escort of any kind. That is +very dreadful at first, but in time you will learn to walk swiftly, +with stony face, unseeing eyes, and ears deaf to those hyenas of the +city streets, who make life a misery to the unprotected woman. The rules +of a theatre are many and very exacting, and you must scrupulously obey +them or you will surely be forfeited a stated sum of money. There is no +gallantry in the management of a company, and these forfeits are +genuine, be you man or woman. + +You have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness, here you will +learn that _punctuality_ is next to godliness. As you hope for fame here +and life hereafter, never be late to rehearsal. That is the theatrical +unpardonable sin! You will attend rehearsal at any hour of the day the +manager chooses to call you, but that is rarely, if ever, before 10 A.M. +Your legitimate means of attracting the attention of the management are +extreme punctuality and quick studying of your part. If you can come to +the second rehearsal perfect in your lines, you are bound to attract +attention. Your fellow-players will not love you for it, because they +will seem dull or lazy by comparison; but the stage manager will make a +note, and it may lead to better things. + +Your gowns at this stage of your existence may cause you great anguish +of mind--I do not refer to their cost, but to their selection. You will +not be allowed to say, "I will wear white or I will wear pink," because +the etiquette of the theatre gives the leading lady the first choice of +colours, and after her the lady next in importance, you wearing what is +left. + +In some New York theatres actresses have no word in the selection of +their gowns: they receive plates from the hand of the management, and +dress accordingly. This is enough to whiten the hair of a sensitive +woman, who feels dress should be a means of expression, an outward hint +of the character of the woman she is trying to present. + +Should you not be in a running play, you may be an understudy for one +or two of the ladies who are. You will study their parts, be rehearsed +in their "business," and will then hold yourself in readiness to take, +on an instant's notice, either of their places, in case of sickness, +accident, or ill news coming to either of them. If the parts are good +ones, you will be astonished at the perfect immunity of actresses from +all mishaps; but all the same you may never leave your house without +leaving word as to where you are going and how long you expect to stay. + +You may never go to another theatre without permission of your own +manager; indeed, she is a lucky "understudy" who does not have to report +at the theatre at 7 o'clock every night to see if she is needed. And it +sometimes happens that the only sickness the poor "understudy" knows of +during the whole run of the play is that sickness of deferred hope which +has come to her own heart. + +Not so very hard a day or night, so far as physical labour goes, is it? +But, oh! the sameness, the deadly monotony, of repeating the same words +to the same person at the same moment every night, sick or well, sad or +happy--the same, same words! + +A "one-play" company offers the worst possible chance to the beginner. +The more plays there are, the more you learn from observation, as well +as from personal effort, to make the parts you play seem as unlike one +another as possible. A day like this admits of no drives, no calls, no +"teas"; you see, then, a theatrical life is not one long picnic. + +If there is one among my readers to whom the dim and dingy half-light of +the theatre is dearer than the God-given radiance of the sunlight; if +the burnt-out air with its indescribable odour, seemingly composed of +several parts of cellar mould, a great many parts of dry rot or unsunned +dust, the whole veined through and through with small streaks of escaped +illuminating gas--if this heavy, lifeless air is more welcome to your +nostrils than could be the clover-sweetened breath of the greenest +pasture; if that great black gulf, yawning beyond the extinguished +footlights, makes your heart leap up at your throat; if without noting +the quality or length of your part the just plain, bald fact of "acting +something" thrills you with nameless joy; if the rattle-to-bang of the +ill-treated old overture dances through your blood, and the rolling up +of the curtain on the audience at night is to you as the magic +blossoming of a mighty flower--if these are the things that you feel, +your fate is sealed: Nature is imperious; and through brain, heart, and +nerve she cries to you, ACT, ACT, ACT! and act you must! Yes, I know +what I have said of the difficulties in your way, but I have faith to +believe that, if God has given you a peculiar talent, God will aid you +to find a way properly to exercise that talent. You may receive many +rebuffs, but you must keep on trying to get into a stock company if +possible, or, next best, to get an engagement with a star who produces +many plays. Take anything, no matter how small, to begin with. You will +learn how to walk, to stand still--a tremendous accomplishment. You will +get acquainted with your own hands, and cease to worry about them. + +You can train your brain by studying Shakespeare and the old comedies. +Study not merely the leading part, but all the female parts; it is not +only good training, but you never know when an opportunity may come to +you. The element of "chance" enters very largely into the theatrical +life. Above all, try to remember the lines of every female character in +the play you are acting in; it might mean a sudden rise in your position +if you could go on, at a moment's notice, and play the part of some one +suddenly taken ill. + +Then work, work, and above all observe. Never fail to watch the acting +of those about you. Get at the cause of the effects. Avoid the faults, +and profit by the good points of the actors before you, but never permit +yourself to imitate them. + +One suggestion I would make is to keep your eyes open for signs of +character in the real life about you. The most successful bit of +business I had in "Camille" I copied from a woman I saw in a Broadway +car. If a face impresses you, study it, try afterward to recall its +expression. Note how different people express their anger: some are +redly, noisily angry; some are white and cold in their rage. All these +things will make precious material for you to draw upon some day, when +you have a character to create; and you will not need to say, "Let me +see, Miss So-and-So would stand like this, and speak very fast, or very +slow," etc. + +You will do independent work, good work, and will never be quite +satisfied with it, but will eagerly try again, for great artists are so +constituted; and the hard life of disappointments, self-sacrifices, and +many partings, where strong, sweet friendships are formed only to be +broken by travelling orders, will all be forgotten when, the glamour of +the footlights upon you, saturated with light, thrilling to music, +intoxicated with applause, you find the audience is an instrument for +you to play upon at will. And such a moment of conscious, almost divine +power is the reward that comes to those who sacrifice many things that +they may act. + +So if you really are one of these, I can only say, "Act, act!" and +Heaven have you in its holy keeping. + +But, dear gifted woman, pause before you put your hand to the plough +that will turn your future into such strange furrows; remember, the life +of the theatre is a hard life, a homeless life; that it is a wandering +up and down the earth; a life filled full with partings, with sweet, +lost friendships; that its triumphs are brilliant but brief. If you do +truly love acting, simply and solely for the sake of acting, then all +will be well with you, and you will be content; but verily you will be a +marvel. + +For the poor girl or woman who, because she has to earn her own living, +longs to become an actress, my heart aches. + +You will say good-by to mother's petting; you will live in your trunk. +The time will come when that poor hotel trunk (so called to distinguish +it from the trunk that goes to the theatre, when you are travelling or +en route), with its dents and scars, will be the only friendly object to +greet you in your desolate boarding-house, with its one wizened, +unwilling gas-burner, and its outlook upon back yards and cats, or roofs +and sparrows, its sullen, hard-featured bed, its despairing carpet; for +you see, you will not have the money that might take you to the front of +the house and four burners. Rain or shine, you will have to make your +lonely, often frightened way to and from the theatre. At rehearsals you +will have to stand about, wearily waiting hours while others rehearse +over and over again their more important scenes; yet you may not leave +for a walk or a chat, for you do not know at what moment your scene may +be called. You will not be made much of. You will receive a "Good +morning" or "Good evening" from the company, probably nothing more. If +you are travelling, you will literally _live_ in your hat and cloak. You +will breakfast in them many and many a time, you will dine in them +regularly, that you may rise at once and go to the theatre or car. You +will see no one, go nowhere. + +If you are in earnest, you will simply endure the first year,--endure +and study,--and all for what? That, after dressing in the corner +farthest from the looking-glass, in a dismal room you would scarcely use +for your housemaid's brooms and dusters at home, you may stand for a few +moments in the background of some scene, and watch the leading lady +making the hit in the foreground. Will these few, well-dressed, +well-lighted, music-thrilled moments repay you for the loss of home +love, home comfort, home stardom? + +To that bright, energetic girl, just home from school, overeducated, +perhaps, with nothing to do, restless,--forgive me,--vain, who wants to +go upon the stage, let me say: "Pause a moment, my dear, in your +comfortable home, and think of the unemployed actresses who are +suffering from actual want. Is there one among you, who, if you had the +chance, would care to strike the bread from the hand of one of these? +Ask God that the scales of unconscious selfishness may fall from your +eyes. Look about you and see if there is not some duty, however small, +the more irksome the better, that you may take from your mother's daily +load, some service you can render for father, brother, sister, aunt; +some daily household task, so small you may feel contemptuous of it, +yet some one must do it, and it may be a special thorn in that some +one's side. So surely as you force yourself to do the small things +nearest your hand, so surely will you be called upon for greater +service." + +And oh! my dears, my dears, a loving mother's declaration, "I don't know +what I should do without my daughter," is sweeter and more precious than +the careless applause of strangers. Try, then, to be patient; find some +occupation, if it is nothing more than the weekly putting in order of +bureau drawers for some unusually careless member of the family; and, +having a good home, thank God and your parents, and stay in it. + +And now, having added the insult of preaching at you to the injury of +disappointing you, I suppose you will accuse me of rank hypocrisy; but +you will be wrong, because with outstretched hands I stand and proclaim +myself your well-wisher and your friend. + + + + +_CHAPTER II + +THE STAGE AND REAL LIFE_ + + +How often we hear people say, "Oh, that's only a play!" or "That could +only happen in a play!" and yet it's surprising how often actors receive +proof positive that their plays are reflecting happenings in real life. + +When Mr. Daly had "L'Article 47" on, at the 5th Avenue Theatre, for +instance, the key-note of the play was the insanity of the heroine. In +the second, most important act, before her madness had been openly +proclaimed, it had to be indicated simply by manner, tone, and gesture; +and the one action of drawing the knee up into her clasping arms, and +then swaying the body mechanically from side to side, while muttering +rapidly to herself, thrilled the audience with the conviction of her +affliction more subtly than words could have done. One night, when that +act was on, I had just begun to sway from side to side, when from the +auditorium there arose one long, _long_, agonizing wail, and that wail +was followed by the heavy falling of a woman's body from her chair into +the centre aisle. + +In an instant all was confusion, every one sprang to his feet; even the +musicians, who were playing some creepy, incidental music, as was the +fashion then, stopped and half rose from their places. It was a dreadful +moment! Somehow I kept a desperate hold upon my strained and startled +nerves and swayed on from side to side. Mr. Stoepel, the leader, glanced +at me. I caught his eye and said quick and low, "Play! play!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "L'Article 47"_] + +He understood; but instead of simply resuming where he had left off, +from force of habit he first gave the leader's usual three sharp taps +upon his music desk, and then--so queer a thing is an audience--those +people, brought to their feet in an agony of terror, of fire, panic, and +sudden death by a woman's cry, now at that familiar tap, tap, tap, broke +here and there into laughter. By sixes and sevens, then by tens and +twenties, they sheepishly seated themselves, only turning their heads +with pitying looks while the ushers removed the unconscious woman. + +When the act was over, Mr. Daly--a man of few words on such +occasions--held my hands hard for a moment, and said, "Good girl, good +girl!" and I, pleased, deprecatingly remarked, "It was the music, sir, +that quieted them," to which he made answer, "And it was you who ordered +the music!" + +Verily, no single word could be spoken on his stage without his +knowledge. Later that evening we learned that the lady who had cried out +had been brought to the theatre by friends who hoped to cheer her up +(Heaven save the mark!) and help her to forget her dreadful and recent +experience of placing her own mother in an insane asylum. Learned, too, +that her very first suspicion of that poor mother's condition had come +from finding her one morning sitting up in bed, her arms embracing her +knees, while she swayed from side to side unceasingly, muttering low and +fast all the time. + +Poor lady! no wonder her worn nerves gave way when all unexpectedly that +dread scene was reproduced before her, and worse still before the +staring public. + +Then Mr. Charles Matthews, the veteran English comedian, came over to +act at Mr. Daly's. His was a graceful, polished, volatile style of +acting, and he had a high opinion of his power as a maker of fun; so +that he was considerably annoyed one night when he discovered that one +of his auditors would not laugh. Laugh? would not even smile at his +efforts. + +Mr. Matthews, who was past seventy, was nervous, excitable,--and, well, +just a wee bit _cranky_; and when the play was about half over, he came +"off," angrily talking to himself, and ran against Mr. Lewis and me, as +we were just about "going on." Instantly he exclaimed, "Look here! look +here!" taking from his vest pocket a broad English gold piece and +holding it out on his hand, then added, "And look there! look there!" +pointing out a gentleman sitting in the opposite box. + +"Do you see that stupid dolt over there? Well, I've toiled over him till +I sweat like a harvest hand, and laugh--he won't; smile--he won't." + +I remarked musingly, "He looks like a graven image"; while Lewis +suggested cheerfully, "Perhaps he is one." + +"No, no!" groaned the unfortunate star, "I'm afraid not! I'm--I'm +almost certain I saw him move once. But look here now, you're a deucedly +funny pair; just turn yourselves loose in this scene. I'll protect you +from Daly,--do anything you like,--and the one who makes that wooden man +laugh, wins this gold piece." + +It was not the gold piece that tempted us to our fall, but the hope of +succeeding where the star had failed. I seized one moment in which to +notify old man Davidge of what was going on, as he had a prominent part +in the coming scene, and then we were on the stage. + +The play was "The Critic," the scene a burlesque rehearsal of an +old-time melodrama. Our opportunities were great, and Heaven knows we +missed none of them. New York audiences are quick, and in less than +three minutes they knew the actors had taken the bit between their teeth +and were off on a mad race of fun. Everything seemed to "go." We three +knew one another well. Each saw another's idea and caught it, with the +certainty of a boy catching a ball. The audience roared with laughter; +the carpenters and scene-shifters--against the rule of the +theatre--crowded into the entrances with answering laughter; but the man +in the box gave no sign. + +Worse and worse we went on. Mr. Daly, white with anger, came behind the +scene, gasping out, "Are they utterly mad?" to the little Frenchman whom +he had made prompter because he could not speak English well enough to +prompt us; who, frantically pulling his hair, cried, "Oui! oui! zey are +all mad--mad like ze dog in ze summer-time!" + +Mr. Daly stamped his feet and cleared his throat to attract our +attention; but, trusting to Mr. Matthews's protection, we grinned +cheerfully at him and continued on our downward path. At last we reached +the "climax," and suddenly I heard Mr. Matthews say, "She's got +him--look--I think she's won!" + +I could not help it--I turned my head to see if the "graven image" could +really laugh. Yes, he was moving! his face wore some faint expression; +but--but he was turning slowly to the laughing audience, and the +expression on his face was one of _wonder!_ + +Matthews groaned aloud, the curtain fell, and Daly was upon us. Matthews +said the cause of the whole business was that man in the box; while Mr. +Daly angrily declared, "The man in the box could have nothing to do with +the affair, since he was _deaf_ and _dumb_, and had been all his life." + +I remember sitting down very hard and very suddenly. I remember that +Davidge, who was an Englishman, "blasted" a good many things under his +breath; and then Mr. Matthews, exclaiming with wonder, told us he had +been playing for years in a farce where this very scene was enacted, the +whole play consisting in the actors' efforts to win the approbation of a +man who was a deaf mute. + +So once more a play was found to reflect a situation in real life. + +[Illustration: _Charles Matthews_] + + + + +_CHAPTER III + +IN CONNECTION WITH "DIVORCE" AND DALY'S_ + + +"Divorce" had just settled down for its long run, when one evening I +received a letter whose weight and bulk made me wonder whether the +envelope contained a "last will and testament" or a "three-act play." On +opening it I found it perfectly correct in appearance, on excellent +paper, in the clearest handwriting, and using the most perfect +orthography and grammar: a gentleman had nevertheless gently, almost +tenderly, reproached me for using _the story of his life_ for the play. + +He said he knew Mr. Daly's name was on the bills as author; but as I +was an Ohio woman, he of course understood perfectly that I had +furnished Mr. D. with _his_ story for the play. He explained at great +length that he forgave me because I had not given Mr. Daly his real +name, and also remarked, in rather an aggrieved way, that _he_ had two +children and only one appeared in the play. He also seemed considerably +surprised that Mr. Harkins (who played my husband) did not wear a large +red beard, as every one, he said, knew _he_ had not shaved for years. + +My laughter made its way over the transom, and in a moment my neighbour +was at the dressing-room door, asking for something she did not need, +that she might find out the why and wherefore of the fun; and when the +red beard had started her off, another came for something she knew I +didn't own, and she too fell before the beard; while a third writhed +over the forgiveness extended to me, and exclaimed:-- + +"Oh, the well-educated idiot, isn't he delicious?" + +By and by the letter started to make a tour of the gentlemen's rooms, +and, unlike the rolling-stone that gathered no moss, it gathered +laughter as it moved. + +It was only Mr. Daly who astonished me by not laughing. He, instead, +seemed quite gratified that his play had so clearly reflected a real +life story. + +In the business world of New York there was known at that time a pair of +brothers; they were in dry-goods. The firm was new, and they were +naturally anxious to extend their trade. The buyer for a merchant in the +far Northwest had placed a small order with the brothers B., which had +proved so satisfactory that the merchant coming himself to New York the +next fall informed the brothers of his intention of dealing heavily with +them. Of course they were much pleased. They had received him warmly and +had offered him some hospitality, which latter he declined; but as it +was late in the day, and as he was an utter stranger to the city, he +asked if there was anything going on that would help pass an evening for +him; and the elder Mr. B. had instantly answered, Yes; that there was a +big success "on" at Daly's Theatre, right next door to the Fifth Avenue +Hotel, at which the stranger was stopping. And so with thanks and bows, +and a smiling promise to be at the store at ten o'clock the next +morning, ready for business, the brothers and the Western merchant +parted. + +I happened to be in the store next morning before ten, and the elder B., +who was one of my few acquaintances, was chatting to me of nothing in +particular, when I saw such an expression of surprise come into his +face, that I turned at once in the direction his glance had taken, and +saw a man plunging down the aisle toward us, like an ugly steer. He +looked a cross between a Sabbath-school superintendent and a cattle +dealer. He was six feet tall and very clumsy, and wore the black +broadcloth of the church and the cow-hide boots, big hat, and woollen +comforter of the cattle man; while his rage was so evident that even +organ-grinders and professional beggars fled from his presence. On he +came, stamping and shaking his head steerlike. One expected every moment +to hear him bellow. When he came up to Mr. B., it really did seem that +the man must fall in a fit. When he could speak, he burst into +vituperation and profanity. He d----d the city, its founders, and its +present occupants. He d----d Mr. B., his ancestors, his relatives near +and distant, by blood and by law; but he was exceptionally florid when +he came to tell Mr. B. how many kinds of a fool he was. + +When his breath was literally gone, my unfortunate friend, who had +alternately flushed and paled under the attack, said:-- + +"Mr. Dash, if you will be good enough to explain what this is all +about--" + +"Explain!" howled the enraged man, "explain! in the place where I come +from our jokes don't need to be explained. You ring-tail gibbering ape, +come out here on the sidewalk, and I'll explain!" + +Then he paused an instant, as a new thought came to him. + +"Oh, yes," he cried, "and if I take you out there, to lick some of the +_fun_ out of you, one of your constables will jump on to me! You're a +sweet, polite lot, to play jokes on strangers, and then hide behind your +constables!" + +Then his voice fell, his eyes narrowed, he looked an ugly customer as he +approached Mr. B., saying:-- + +"You thought it d----d funny to send me to that play last night, on +purpose to show me you knew I had just got a divorce from my wife! And +if I have divorced her, let me tell you she's a finer woman than you +ever knew in your whole fool life! It was d----d funny, wasn't it, to +send a lonely man--a stranger--into a playhouse to see his own misery +acted out before him! Well, in New York that may be fun, and call for +laughter, but at my home it would call for _bullets_--and get 'em too!" + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Alixe"._] + +And he turned and strode out. Mr. B. had failed to mention the name of +the play when he recommended it; and the Western man, whose skin seemed +as sensitive as it was thick, thought that he was being made fun of, +when the play of "Divorce" unfolded before him. + +When "Alixe" was produced, there was one feature of the play that +aroused great curiosity. Mr. Daly was called upon again and again to +decide wagers, and considerable money changed hands over the question, +before people could be convinced that it was I who was carried upon the +stage, and not a waxen image of me. + +Many people will remember that in that heart-rending play, Alixe, the +innocent victim of others' wrong-doing, is carried on dead,--drowned,--and +lies for the entire act in full view of the audience. Now that was the +only play I ever saw before playing in it; and in Paris the Alixe had +been so evidently alive that the play was quite ruined. + +When I had that difficult scene intrusted to me, I thought long and +hard, trying to find some way to conceal my breathing. I knew I could +"make-up" my face all right--but that evident breathing. I had always +noticed that the tighter a woman laced, the higher she breathed and the +greater was the movement of her chest and bust. That gave me a hint. I +took off my corset. Still when lying down there was movement that an +opera glass would betray. + +Then I tried a little trick. Alixe wore white of a soft crepy material. +I had duplicate dresses made, only one was very loose in the waist. Then +I had a great big circular cloak of the same white material, quite +unlined; and when I was made up for the death scene, with lilies and +grasses in hand and hair, I stood upon a chair and held a corner of the +great soft cloak against my breast, while my maid carefully wound the +rest of it loosely about my body, round and round, right down to my +ankles, and fastened it there; result: a long, white-robed figure, +without one trace of waist line or bust, and beneath ample room for +natural breathing, without even the tremor of a fold to betray it. + +At once the question rose, was it a wax figure or was it not? One +gentleman came to Mr. Daly and asked him for the artist's address, +saying the likeness to Miss Morris was so perfect it might be herself, +and he wanted to get a wax model of his wife. Nor would he be convinced +until Mr. Daly finally brought him back to the stage, and he saw me +unpin my close drapery, and trot off to my dressing-room. + +The play was a great success, and often the reading of the suicide's +letter was punctuated by actual sobs from the audience, instead of +those from the mother. Young club-men used to make a point of going to +the "Saturday Funeral," as they called the "Alixe" matinee. They would +gather afterward, opposite to the theatre, and make fun of the women's +faces as they came forth with tear-streaked cheeks, red noses, and +swollen eyes, and making frantic efforts to slip powder-puffs under +their veils and repair damages. If glances could have killed, there +would have been mourning in earnest in the houses of the club-men. + +One evening, as the audience was nearly out and the lights were being +extinguished in the auditorium, a young man came back and said to an +usher:-- + +"There is a gentleman up there in the balcony; you'd better see to him, +before the lights are all put out." + +"A gentleman? what's he doing there, at this time, I'd like to know?" +grumbled the usher as he climbed up the stairs. But next moment he was +calling for help, for there in a front seat, fallen forward, with his +head on the balcony rail, sat an old man whose silvery white hair +reflected the faint light that fell upon it. They carried him to the +office; and after stimulants had been administered he recovered and +apologized for the trouble he had caused. As he seemed weak and shaken, +Mr. Daly thought one of the young men ought to see him safely home, but +he said:-- + +"No, he was only in New York on business--he was at a hotel but a few +steps away, and--and--" he hesitated. "You are thinking I had no right +to go to a theatre alone," he added, "but I am not a sick +man--only--only to-night I received an awful shock." + +He paused. Mr. Daly noted the quiver of his firm old lips. He dismissed +the usher; then he turned courteously to the old gentleman and said:-- + +"As it was in my theatre you received that shock, will you explain it +to me?" + +And in a low voice the stranger told him that he had had a daughter, an +only child, a little blond, laughing thing, whom he worshipped. She was +a mere child when she fell in love. Her choice had not pleased him, and +looking upon the matter as a fancy merely, he had forbidden further +intercourse between the lovers. "And--and it was in the summer, +and--dear God, when that yellow-haired girl was carried dead upon the +stage to-night, even the grass clutched between her fingers, it was a +repetition of what occurred in my country home, sir, three years ago." + +Then Mr. Daly gave his arm to the old stranger, and in dead silence they +walked to the hotel and parted. + +Once more the play had reflected real life. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV + +"MISS MULTON" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +Mr. Palmer had produced "Miss Multon" at the Union Square, and we were +fast settling down to our steady, regular gait, having got over the +false starts and breaks and nervous shyings of the opening performance, +when another missive of portentous bulk reached me. + +It was one of those letters in which you can find everything except an +end; and the writer was one of those men whose subjects, like an +unhealthy hair, always split at the end, making at least two subjects +out of one. + +For instance, he started to show me the resemblance between his life and +the story of the play; but when he came to mention his wife, the hair +split, and instead of continuing, he branched off, to tell me she was +the step-daughter of "So-and-so," that her own father, who was +"Somebody," had died of "something," and had been buried "somewhere"; +and then that hair split, and he proceeded to expatiate on the two +fathers' qualities, and state their different business occupations, +after which, out of breath, and far, far from the original subject, he +had to hark back two and a half pages and tackle his life again. + +Truth to tell, it was rather pathetic reading when he kept to the point, +for love for his wife cropped out plainly between the lines after years +of separation. Suddenly he began to adorn me with a variety of fine +qualities. He assured me that I had penetration, clear judgment, and a +sense of justice, as well as a warm heart. + +I was staggering under these piled-up traits, when he completely floored +me, so to speak, by asking me to take his case under consideration, +assuring me he would act upon my advice. If I thought he had been too +severe in his conduct toward his wife, to say so, and he would seek her +out, and humble himself before her, and ask her to return to him. + +He also asked me whether, as a woman, I thought she would be influenced +wholly by the welfare of her children, or whether she would be likely to +retain a trace of affection for himself. + +That letter was an outrage. The idea of appealing to me, who had not had +the experience of a single divorce to rely upon! Even my one husband was +so recent an acquisition as to be still considered a novelty. And yet I, +all unacquainted with divorce proceedings, legal separations, and +common law ceremonies, was called upon to make this strange man's +troubles my own, to sort out his domestic woes, and say:-- + +"This sin" is yours, but "that sin" is hers, and "those other sins" +belong wholly to the co-respondent. + +What a useful word that is! It has such a decent sound, almost +respectable. We are a refined people, even in our sins, and I know no +word in the English language we strive harder to avoid using in any of +its forms than that word of brutal vulgarity, but terrific +meaning--adultery. + +The adulterer may be in our midst, but we have refinement enough to +refer to him as the "So-and-So's" co-respondent. + +I was engaged in saying things more earnest and warm than correct and +polished--things I fear the writer of the letter could not have approved +of--when I was pulled up short by the opening words of another +paragraph, which said: "God! if women suffer in real life over the loss +of children, husband, and home, as you suffered before my very eyes last +night in the play; if my wife is tortured like that, it would have been +better for me to have passed out of life, and have left her in peace. +But I did not know that women suffered so. Help me, advise me." + +I could not ignore that last appeal. What my answer was you will not +care to know; but if it was brief, it was at least not flippant; and +before writing it, I, in my turn, appealed for help, only my appeal was +made upon my knees to the Great Authority. + + * * * * * + +On election nights it is customary for the manager to read or have read +to the audience the returns as fast as they come in from various points, +showing how the voting has gone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris and James Parselle in 3d Act of "Miss +Multon"_] + +An election was just over, when one evening a small incident occurred +during a performance of "Miss Multon" that we would gladly have +dispensed with. In the quarrel scene between the two women, the first +and supposedly dead wife, in her character of governess to her own +children, is goaded by the second wife into such a passion that she +finally throws off all concealment and declares her true character and +name. + +The scene was a strong one, and was always looked forward to eagerly by +the audience. + +On the evening I speak of the house was packed almost to suffocation. +The other characters in the play had withdrawn, and for the first time +the two women were alone together. Both keyed up almost to the breaking +point, we faced each other, and there was a dead, I might almost say a +_deadly_ pause before either spoke. + +It was very effective--that silence before the storm. People would lean +forward and fairly hold their breath, feeling there was a death struggle +coming. And just at that very moment of tensest feeling, as we two +women silently measured each other, a man's voice clearly and +exultantly declared:-- + +"Well, _now_, we'll get the returns read, I reckon." + +In one instant the whole house was in a roar of laughter. Under cover of +the noise I said to my companion, who was showing her annoyance, "Keep +still! keep still!" + +And as we stood there like statues, utterly ignoring the interruption, +there was a sudden outbreak of hissing, and the laughter stopped as +suddenly as it had burst out, and our scene went on, receiving even more +than its usual meed of applause. But when the curtain had fallen, I had +my own laugh; for _it was_ funny, very funny. + +In Boston there was an interruption of a different nature. It was at a +matinee performance. There were tear-wet faces everywhere you looked. +The last act was on. I was slipping to my knees in my vain entreaty to +be allowed to see my children as their mother, not merely as their +dying governess, when a tall, slim, black-robed woman rose up in the +parquet. She flung out her arms in a superb gesture, and in a voice of +piercing anguish cried:-- + +"For God's sake, let her have her children! I've lived through such +loss, but she can't; it will kill her!" + +Tears sprang to the eyes of every one on the stage, and there was a +perceptible halt in the movement of the play. And when, at the death +scene, a lady was carried out in a faint, we were none of us surprised +to hear it was _she_ who had so far forgotten where she was as to make +that passionate plea for a woman whose suffering was probably but a +faint reflection of her own. + + + + +_CHAPTER V + +THE "NEW MAGDALEN" AT THE UNION SQUARE_ + + +One night at the Union Square Theatre, when the "New Magdalen" was +running, we became aware of the presence of a distinguished visitor--a +certain actress from abroad. + +As I looked at the beautiful woman, magnificently dressed and jewelled, +I found it simply impossible to believe the stories I had heard of her +frightful poverty, in the days of her lowly youth. + +Her manner was listless, her expression bored; even the conversation +which she frequently indulged in seemed a weariness to the flesh; while +her applause was so plainly a mere matter of courtesy as almost to miss +being a courtesy at all. + +When, therefore, in the last act, I approached that truly dreadful +five-page speech, which after a laconic "Go on!" from the young minister +is continued through several more pages, I actually trembled with fear, +lest her _ennui_ should find some unpleasant outward expression. +However, I dared not balk at the jump, so took it as bravely as I could. + +As I stood in the middle of the stage addressing the minister, and my +lover on my left, I faced her box directly. I can see her now. She was +almost lying in her chair, her hands hanging limply over its arms, her +face, her whole body suggesting a repressed yawn. + +I began, slowly the words fell, one by one, in low, shamed tones:-- + +"I was just eight years old, and I was half dead with starvation." + +Her hands closed suddenly on the arms of her chair, and she lifted +herself upright. I went on:-- + +"I was alone--the rain was falling." (She drew her great fur cloak +closely about her.) "The night was coming on--and--and--I +begged--_openly_--LOUDLY--as only a hungry child can beg." + +She sat back in her seat with a pale, frowning face; while within the +perfumed furry warmth of her cloak she shivered so that the diamonds at +her ears sent out innumerable tiny spears of colour. + +The act went on to its close; her attention never flagged. When I +responded to a call before the curtain, she gravely handed me her bunch +of roses. + +A few moments later, by a happy accident, I was presented to her; when +with that touch of bitterness that so often crept into her voice she +said:-- + +"You hold your glass too steadily and at too true an angle to quite +please me." + +"I do not understand," I answered. + +She smiled, her radiantly lovely smile, then with just a suspicion of a +sneer replied, "Oh, yes, I think you do; at all events, I do not find it +amusing to be called upon to look at too perfect a reflection of my own +childhood." + +At which I exclaimed entreatingly, "Don't--please don't--" + +I might have found it hard to explain just what I meant; but she +understood, for she gave my hand a quick, hard pressure, and a kind look +shone from her splendid eyes. Next moment she was sweeping superbly +toward her carriage, with her gentlemen in waiting struggling for the +opportunity to do her service. So here, again, was the play reflecting +real life. + +But surely I have given instances enough in illustration of my original +claim that the most dramatic scenes in plays are generally the mere +reflections of happenings in real life; while the recognition of such +scenes often causes a serious interruption to the play, though goodness +knows there are plenty of interruptions from other causes. + +One that comes often to my mind occurred at Daly's. He once tried to +keep the theatre open in the summer-time--that was a failure. Two or +three plays were tried, then he abandoned the scheme. But while "No +Name" was on, Mr. Parks was cast for a part he was utterly unsuited for. +He stamped and stammered out his indignation and objection, but he was +not listened to, so on he went. + +During the play he was found seated at a table; and he not answering a +question put to him, his housekeeper knelt at his side, lifted his hand, +and let it fall, heavily, then in awed tones exclaimed, "He is dead!" + +Now there is no use denying that, clever actor as he was, he was very, +_very_ bad in that part; and on the third night, when the housekeeper +let his hand fall and said, "He is dead!" in clear and hearty response +from the gallery came the surprising words, "Thank God!" + +The laughter that followed was not only long-continued, but it broke +out again and again. As one young woman earnestly remarked next day: +"You see he so perfectly expressed all our feelings. We were all as +thankful as the man in the gallery, but we didn't like to say so." + +Parks, however, was equal to the occasion. He gravely suggested that Mr. +Daly would do well to engage that chap, as he was the only person who +had made a hit in the play. + +Parks was, by the way, very droll in his remarks about theatrical +matters. One day Mr. Daly concluded he would "cut" one of the acts we +were rehearsing, and it happened that Parks's part, which was already +short, suffered severely. He, of course, said nothing, but a little +later he introduced a bit of business which was very funny, but really +did not suit the scene. Mr. Daly noticed it, and promptly cut that out +too. Then was Parks wroth indeed. + +After rehearsal, he and Mr. Lewis were walking silently homeward, when +they came upon an Italian street musician. The man ground at his movable +piano, the wife held the tambourine, while his leggy little daughter +danced with surprising grace on the stone walk. As she trotted about +gathering her harvest of pennies, Parks put his hand on her shoulder and +said solemnly:-- + +"You ought to be devilish glad you're not in Daly's company; he'd cut +that dance out if you were." + +One evening in New Orleans, when we were playing "Camille," a coloured +girl, who had served me as dressing-maid, came to see me, and I gave her +a "pass," that she might see from the "front" the play she had so often +dressed me for. She went to the gallery and found herself next to a +young black man, who had brought his sweetheart to see her first play. + +The girl was greatly impressed and easily moved, and at the fourth act, +when Armand hurled the money at me, striking me in the face, she turned +to her young man, saying savagely, "You, Dave, you got ter lay for dat +white man ter night, an' lick der life outen him." + +Next moment I had fallen at Armand's feet. The curtain was down and the +girl was excitedly declaring, I was dead! while Dave assured her over +and over again, "No, honey, she carn't be dead yit, 'cause, don' yer +see, der's anudder act, an' she just nacherly's got ter be in it." + +When, however, the last act was on, it was Dave himself who did the +business. The pathetic death scene was almost over, when applause broke +from the upper part of the house. Instantly a mighty and unmistakable +negro voice, said: "Hush--hush! She's climin' der golden stair dis time, +shure--keep still!" + +My devoted "Nannine" leaned over me to hide my laughing face from the +audience, who quickly recovered from the interruption, while for once +Camille, the heart-broken, died with a laugh in her throat. + +In the same city I had, one matinee, to come down three steps on to the +stage. I was quite gorgeous in one of my best gowns; for one likes to +dress for Southern girls, they are so candidly pleased with your pretty +things. My skirt caught on a nail at the very top step, so that when I +reached the stage my train was stretched out full length, and in the +effort a scene-hand made to free it, it turned over, so that the +rose-pink lining could be plainly seen, when an awed voice exclaimed, +"For de Lor's sake, dat woman's silk lin'd clear frou!" and the +performance began in a gale of laughter. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI + +"ODETTE" IN THE WEST. A CHILD'S FIRST PLAY_ + + +An odd and somewhat touching little incident occurred one evening when +we were in the far Northwest. There was a blizzard on just then, and the +cold was something terrible. I had a severe attack of throat trouble, +and my doctor had been with me most of the day. His little boy, hearing +him speak of me, was seized with a desire to go to the theatre, and +coaxed so well that his father promised to take him. + +The play was "Odette." The doctor and his pretty little son sat in the +end seats of the parquet circle, close to the stage and almost facing +the whole house. The little fellow watched his first play closely. As +the comedy bit went on, he smiled up at his father, saying audibly, "I +like her--don't you, papa?" + +Papa silenced him, while a few people who had overheard smiled over the +child's unconsciousness of observers. But when I had changed my dress +and crept into the darkened room in a _robe de chambre_; when the +husband had discovered my wrong-doing and was driving me out of his +house, a child's cry of protest came from the audience. At the same +moment, the husband raised his hand to strike. I repelled him with a +gesture and went staggering off the stage; while that indignant little +voice cried, "Papa! papa! can't you have that man arrested?" and the +curtain fell. + +One of the actors ran to the peep-hole in the curtain, and saw the +doctor leading out the little man, who was then crying bitterly, the +audience smiling and applauding him, one might say affectionately. + +A bit later the doctor came to my dressing-room to apologize and to tell +me the rest of it. When the curtain had fallen, the child had begged: +"Take me out--take me out!" and the doctor, thinking he might be ill, +rose and led him out. No sooner had they reached the door, however, than +he pulled his hand away, crying: "Quick, papa! quick! you go round the +block that way, and I'll run round this way, and we'll be sure to find +that poor lady that's out in the cold--just in her nighty!" + +In vain he tried to explain, the child only grew more wildly excited; +and finally the doctor promised, if the child would come home at once, +only two blocks away, he would return and look for the lady--in the +nighty. And he had taken the little fellow home and had seen him fling +himself into his mother's arms, and with tears and sobs tell her of the +"poor lady whose husband had driven her right out into the blizzard, +don't you think, mamma, and only her nighty on; and, mamma, she hadn't +done one single bad thing--not one!" + +Poor, warm-hearted, innocent little man; he was assured later on that +the lady had been found and taken to a hotel; and I hope his next play +was better suited to his tender years. + +In Philadelphia we had a very ludicrous interruption during the last act +of "Man and Wife." The play was as popular as the Wilkie Collins' story +from which it had been taken, and therefore the house was crowded. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Odette"_] + +I was lying on the bed in the darkened room, in that profound and +swift-coming sleep known, alas! only to the stage hero or heroine. The +paper on the wall began to move noiselessly aside, and in the opening +thus disclosed at the head of the bed, lamp-illumined, appeared the +murderous faces of Delamain and Hesther Detheridge. As the latter +raised the wet, suffocating napkin that was to be placed over my face, a +short, fat man in the balcony started to his feet, and broke the creepy +silence with the shout:-- + +"Mein Gott in Himmel! vill dey murder her alreaty?" + +Some one tried to pull him down into his seat, but he struck the hand +away, crying loudly, "Stob it! stob it, I say!" And while the people +rocked back and forth with laughter, an usher led the excited German +out, declaring all the way that "A blay vas a blay, but somedings might +be dangerous even in a blay! unt dat ting vat he saw should be stobbed +alreaty!" Meantime I had quite a little rest on my bed before quiet +could be restored and the play proceed. + +I have often wondered if any audience in the world can be as quick to +see a point as is the New York audience. During my first season in this +city there was a play on at Mr. Daly's that I was not in, but I was +looking on at it. + +In one scene there stood a handsome bronze bust on a tall pedestal. From +a careless glance I took it to be an Ariadne. At the changing of the +scene the pedestal received a blow that toppled it over, and the +beautiful "bronze" bust broke into a hundred pieces of white plaster. + +The laughter that followed was simply caused by the discovery of a stage +trick. The next character coming upon the stage was played by Miss +Newton, in private life known as Mrs. Charles Backus, wife of the then +famous minstrel. No sooner did she appear upon the stage, not even +speaking one line, than the laugh broke forth again, swelled, and grew, +until the entire audience joined in one great roar. I expected to see +the lady embarrassed, distressed; but not she! After her first startled +glance at the house, she looked at the pedestal, and then she, too, +laughed, when the audience gave a hearty round of applause, which she +acknowledged. + +A scene-hand, noticing my amazed face, said, "You don't see it, do you?" + +"No," I answered. + +"Well," said he, "did you know who that bust was?" + +"Yes," I replied, "I think it was Ariadne." + +"Oh, no!" he said, "it was a bust of Bacchus; then, when Mrs. Backus +appeared--" + +"Oh!" I interrupted. "They all said to themselves: 'Poor Backus is +broken all up! Backus has busted!'" + +And that was why they laughed; and she saw it and laughed with them, and +they saw _that_ and applauded her. Well, that's a quick-witted +audience--an opinion I still retain. + +People are fond of saying, "A woman can't keep a secret." Well, perhaps +she doesn't keep her secrets forever; but here's how two women kept a +secret for a good many years, and betrayed it through a scene in a +play. + +Mr. Daly's treasurer had given tickets to some friends for a performance +of "Divorce." They were ladies--mother and daughter. At first greatly +pleased, the elder lady soon began to grow nervous, then tearful as the +play went on; and her daughter, watching her closely, was about to +propose their retirement, when the mother, with clasped hands and +tear-blurred eyes, seeing the stealing of my little son by the order of +his father, thrilled the audience and terrified her daughter by flinging +up her arms and crying wildly: "Don't do it! for God's sake, don't do +it! You don't know what agony it means!" and fell fainting against the +frightened girl beside her. + +Great confusion followed; the ushers, assisted by those seated near, +removed the unconscious woman to Mr. Daly's private office; but so +greatly had her words affected the people, that when the men on the +stage escaped through the window with the child in their arms, the +curtain fell to a volley of hisses. + +In the office, as smelling salts, water, and fresh air were brought into +requisition, in answer to a question of Mr. Daly's, the treasurer was +saying, "She is Mrs. W----, a widow," when a faint voice interrupted, +"No--no; I'm no widow!" + +The treasurer smiled pityingly, and continued, "I have known her +intimately for twelve years, sir; she is the widow of--" + +"No--no!" came the now sobbing voice. "No--no! Oh, Daisy, dear, tell +him! tell him!" + +And the young girl, very white, and trembling visibly, said: "I hope you +will forgive us, Mr. W----, but from causeless jealousy my father +deserted mother, and--and he stole my little brother, mamma's only son! +We have never heard of either of them since. Widowhood seemed a sort of +protection to poor mamma, and she has hidden behind its veil for +sixteen years. She meant no harm. She would have told you before--" + +She turned crimson and stopped, but that burning blush told its story +plainly; and Mr. Daly busied himself over the pouring of a glass of wine +for the robbed mother, while the treasurer in low tones assured Daisy +there was nothing to forgive, and gratefully accepted the permission +granted him to see the poor things safely home. + +Sixteen years' silence is not so bad for a sex who can't keep a secret! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII + +A CASE OF "TRYING IT ON A DOG"_ + + +It was before I came to New York that I one night saw a really fine +performance almost ruined by a single interruption. It was a domestic +tragedy of English rural life, and one act began with a tableau copied +exactly from a popular painting called "Waiting for the Verdict," which +was also the title of the play. + +The scene gave an exterior view of the building within which the husband +and father was being tried for his life on a charge of murder. The +trembling old grandsire leaned heavily on his staff; the devoted wife +sat wearily by the closed iron gate, with a babe on her breast, tired +but vigilant; a faithful dog stretched himself at her feet, while his +shaggy shoulders pillowed the head of the sleeping child, who was the +accused man's darling. + +The curtain rose on this picture, which was always heartily greeted, and +often, so well it told its pathetic story, a second and a third round of +applause greeted it before the dialogue began. The manager's little +daughter, who did the sleeping child, contracted a cold and was advised +not to venture out of the house for a fortnight, so a substitute had to +be found, and a fine lot of trouble the stage-manager had. He declared +half the children of Columbus had been through his sieve; and there was +the trouble--they all went through, there was no one left to act as +substitute. But at last he found two promising little girls, sisters +they were, and very poor; but the mother vowed her children must be in +bed at nine, theatre or no theatre; yes, she would like to have the +money, but she'd do without it rather than have a child out of bed at +all hours. At first she held out for nine o'clock, but at last yielded +the additional half-hour; and to the great disappointment of the younger +child, the elder one was accepted, for the odd reason that she looked so +much younger than her sister. + +The company had come from Cleveland, and there were the usual slight +delays attendant on a first night; but the house was "good"; the star +(Mr. Buchanan) was making a fine impression, and the play was evidently +a "go." The big picture was looked forward to eagerly, and when it was +arranged, we had to admit that the pale, pinched little face of the +strange child was more effective as it rested on the dog's shoulder than +had been the plump, smiling face of the manager's little one. The +curtain went up, the applause followed; those behind the scenes crowded +to the "wings" to look on; no one noted that the hands of the clock +stood at 9.40; no one heard through the second burst of applause the +slam of the stage door behind the very, very small person who entered, +and silently peering this way and that, found her stern, avenging way to +the stage, and that too-favoured sister basking in the sunlight of +public approval. + +The grandsire had just lifted his head and was about to deliver his +beautiful speech of trust and hope, when he was stricken helpless by the +entrance upon the stage of a boldly advancing small person of most +amazing appearance. Her thin little legs emerged from the shortest of +skirts, while her small body was well pinned up in a great blanket +shawl, the point of which trailed fully a quarter of a yard on the floor +behind her. She wore a woman's hood on her head, and from its cavernous +depth, where there gleamed a pale, malignant small face, a voice +issued--the far-reaching voice of a child--that triumphantly +commanded:-- + +"You, Mary Ann, yu're ter get up out of that an' com' home straight +away--an' yu're ter go ter bed, too,--mother says so!" and the small +Nemesis turned on her heel and trailed off the stage, followed by +laughter that seemed fairly to shake the building. Nor was that all. No +sooner had Mary Ann grasped the full meaning of this dread message than +she turned over on her face, and scrambling up by all fours, she eluded +the restraining hands of the actress-mother and made a hasty exit to +perfect shrieks of laughter and storms of applause; while the climax was +only reached when the dog, trained to lie still so long as the pressure +of the child's head was upon his shoulder, finding himself free, rose, +shook himself violently, and trotted off, waving his tail pleasantly as +he went. + +That finished it; the curtain had to fall, a short overture was played, +and the curtain rose again without the complete tableau, and the action +of the play was resumed; but several times the laughter was renewed. It +was only necessary for some person to titter over the ludicrous +recollection, and instantly the house was laughing with that person. The +next night the manager's child, swathed in flannel, with a mouth full of +cough-drops, held the well-trained dog in his place until the proper +moment for him to rise, and the play went on its way rejoicing. + +And just to show how long-lasting is the association of ideas, I will +state that years, many years afterward, I met a gentleman who had been +in the auditorium that night, and he told me he had never since seen a +blanket shawl, whether in store for sale or on some broad back, that he +had not instantly laughed outright, always seeing poor Mary Ann's +obedient exit after that vengeful small sister with her trailing shawl. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII + +THE CAT IN "CAMILLE"_ + + +It was in "Camille," one Friday night, in Baltimore, that for the only +time in my life I wished to wipe an animal out of existence. I love +four-footed creatures with extravagant devotion, not merely the finely +bred and beautiful ones, but the poor, the sick, the halt, the maimed, +the half-breeds or the no breeds at all; and almost all animals quickly +make friends with me, divining my love for them. But on this one +night--well! it was this way. In the last act, as Camille, I had +staggered from the window to the bureau and was nearing that dread +moment when in the looking-glass I was to see the reflection of my +wrecked and ruined self. The house was giving strained attention, +watching dim-eyed the piteous, weak movements of the dying woman; and +right there I heard that (----h!) quick indrawing of the breath startled +womanhood always indulges in before either a scream or a laugh. My heart +gave a plunge, and I thought: What is it? Oh, what is wrong? and I +glanced down at myself anxiously, for really I wore so very little in +that scene that if anything should slip off--gracious! I did not know +but what, in the interest of public propriety, the law might interfere. +But that one swift glance told me that the few garments I had assumed in +the dressing-room still faithfully clung to me. But alas! there was the +dreaded titter, and it was unmistakably growing. What was it about? They +could only laugh at me, for there was no one else on the stage. Was +there not, indeed! In an agony of humiliation I turned half about and +found myself facing an absolutely monstrous cat. Starlike he held the +very centre of the stage, his two great topaz eyes were fixed roundly +and unflinchingly upon my face. On his body and torn ears he carried the +marks of many battles. His brindled tail stood straightly and +aggressively in the air, and twitched with short, quick twitches, at its +very tip, truly as burly an old buccaneer as I ever saw. + +No wonder they giggled! But how to save the approaching death scene from +total ruin? All was done in a mere moment or two; but several plans were +made and rejected during these few moments. Naturally my first thought, +and the correct one, was to call back "Nannine," my faithful maid, and +tell her to remove the cat. But alas! my Nannine was an unusually +dull-witted girl, and she would never be able to do a thing she had not +rehearsed. My next impulse was to pick up the creature and carry it off +myself; but I was playing a dying girl, and the people had just seen me, +after only three steps, reel helplessly into a chair; and this cat might +easily weigh twelve pounds or more; and then at last my plan was formed. +I had been clinging all the time to the bureau for support, now I +slipped to my knees and with a prayer in my heart that this fierce old +Thomas might not decline my acquaintance, I held out my hand, and in a +faint voice, called "Puss--Puss--Puss! come here, Puss!" + +It was an awful moment: if he refused to come, if he turned tail and +ran, all was over; the audience would roar. + +"Puss--Puss!" I pleaded. Thomas looked hard at me, hesitated, stretched +out his neck, and working his whiskers nervously, sniffed at my hand. + +"Puss--Puss!" I gasped out once more, and lo! he gave a little "meow," +and walking over to me, arched his back amicably, and rubbed his dingy +old body against my knee. In a moment my arms were about him, my cheek +on his wicked old head, and the applause that broke forth from the +audience was as balm of Gilead to my distress and mortification. Then I +called for Nannine, and when she came on, I said to her, "Take him +downstairs, Nannine, he grows too heavy a pet for me these days," and +she lifted and carried Sir Thomas from the stage, and so I got out of +the scrape without sacrificing my character as a sick woman. + +My manager, Mr. John P. Smith, who was a wag, and who would willingly +give up his dinner, which he loved, for a joke, which he loved better, +was the next day questioned about this incident. One gentleman, a music +dealer, said to him: "Mr. Smith, I wish you to settle a question for me. +My wife and I are at variance. We saw 'Camille' last night, and my wife, +who has seen it several times in New York, insisted that that beautiful +little cat-scene belongs to the play and is always done; while I am +sure I never saw it before, and several of my customers agree with me, +one lady declaring it to have been an accident. Will you kindly set us +right?" + +"Certainly," heartily replied Mr. Smith; "your wife is quite right, the +cat scene is always done. It is a great favourite with Miss Morris, and +she hauls that cat all over the country with her, ugly as he is, just +because he's such a good actor." + + + + +_CHAPTER IX + +"ALIXE." THE TRAGEDY OF THE GOOSE GREASE_ + + +During the run of "Alixe," at Daly's Theatre, I had suffered from a +sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs, and before I was well the +doctor was simply horrified to learn that Mr. Daly had commanded me to +play at the Saturday performance, saying that if the work made me worse, +the doctor would have all day Sunday to treat me in. He really seemed to +think that using a carriage did away with all possible danger in passing +from a warm room, through icy streets, to a draughty theatre. But +certain lesions that I carry about with me are proofs of his error. +However, I dared not risk losing my engagement, so I obeyed. My chest, +which had been blistered and poulticed during my illness, was +excruciatingly tender and very sensitive to cold; and the doctor, +desiring to heal, and at the same time to protect it from chill, to my +unspeakable mortification anointed me lavishly with goose grease and +swathed me in flannel and cotton wadding. + +That I had no shape left to me was bad enough; but to be a moving +abomination was worse, and of all vile, offensive, and vulgar odours +commend me to that of goose grease. With cheeks wet from tears of sheer +weakness, I reached the theatre resolved to keep as silent as the grave +on the subject of my flamboyant armour of grease and flannel. But the +first faint muttering of the coming storm reached me even in my +dressing-room, when the theatre maid (I had none of my own yet) entered, +and frowningly snapped out: "I'd like to know what's the matter with +this room? It never smelled like this before. Just as soon as you go +out, Miss Morris, I'll hunt it over and see what the trouble is." + +I had been pale, but at that speech one might have lighted matches at my +scarlet face. While in the entrance I had to be wrapped up in a great +big shawl, through which the odour could not quite penetrate, so no one +suspected me when making kindly inquiries about my health; but when it +was thrown off, and in my thin white gown I went on the stage--oh! + +In the charming little love scene, as Henri and I sat close, oh, very +close together, on the garden seat, and I had to look up at him with +wide-eyed admiration, I saw him turn his face aside, wrinkling up his +nose, and heard him whisper: "What an infernal smell! What is it?" + +I shook my head in seeming ignorance and wondered what was ahead--if +this was the beginning. It was a harrowing experience; by the time the +second act was on, the whole company was aroused. They were like an +angry swarm of bees. Miss Dietz kept her handkerchief openly to her +pretty nose; Miss Morant, in stately dudgeon, demanded that Mr. Daly +should be sent for, that he might learn the condition of his theatre, +and the dangers his people were subjected to in breathing such poisoned +air; while right in the very middle of our best scene, Mr. Louis James, +the incorrigible, stopped to whisper, "Can't we move further over and +get out of this confounded stench?" + +In that act I had to spend much of my time at the piano, with the result +that when the curtain fell, the people excitedly declared that awful +smell was worst right there, and I had the misery of seeing the prompter +carefully looking into the piano and applying his long, sharp nose to +its upright interior. + +There had been a moment in that act when I thought James Lewis suspected +me. I had just taken my seat opposite him at the chess table, when he +gave a little jerk at his chair, exclaiming under his breath, "Blast +that smell--there it is again!" + +[Illustration: _Mrs. Gilbert, Augustin Daly, James Lewis, Louis James_] + +I remained silent, and there I was wrong; for Lewis, knowing me well, +knew my habit of extravagant speech, and instantly his blue pop eyes +were upon my miserable face, with suspicion sticking straight out of +them. With trembling hand I made my move at chess, saying, "Queen to +Queens rook four," and he added in aside, "Seems to me you're mighty +quiet about this scent; I hope you ain't going to tell me you can't +smell it?" + +But the assurance that "I did--oh, I did, indeed! smell a most +outrageous odour," came so swiftly, so convincingly from my lips, that +his suspicions were lulled to rest. + +The last act came, and--and--well, as I said, it was the last act. White +and rigid and lily-strewn, they bore me on the stage,--Louis James at +the shoulders and George Clarke at the feet. Their heads were bent over +me. James was nearest to the storm centre. Suddenly he gasped, then as +we reached the centre of the stage Clarke gave vent to "phew!" They +gently laid me on the sofa, but through the sobs of the audience and of +the characters I heard from James the unfinished, half-doubting +sentence, "Well, I believe in my soul it's--" But the mother (Miss +Morant) approached me then, took my hand, touched my brow, called for +help, for a physician; then with the wild cry, "She is dead! she is +dead!" flung herself down beside the sofa with her head upon my +goose-grease breast. Scarcely had she touched me, however, when with a +gasping snort of disgust she sprang back, exclaiming violently, "It's +you, you wretch! it's _you_!" and then under cover of other people's +speeches, I being dead and helpless, Clarke stood at my head and James +at my feet and reviled me, calling me divers unseemly names and mocking +at me, while references were made every now and then to chloride of lime +and such like disinfectants. + +They would probably have made life a burden for me ever after, had I not +after the performance lifted tearful eyes to them and said, "I am so +sorry for your discomfort, but you can go out and get fresh air; but, +boys, just think of me, I can't get away from myself and my goose-grease +smell a single moment, and it's perfectly awful!" + +"You bet it is!" they all answered, as with one voice, and they were +merciful to me, which did not prevent them from sending the prompter +(who did not know of the discovery) with a lantern to search back of the +scenes for the cause of the offensive odour. Perhaps I may add that +goose grease does not figure in my list of "household remedies." + +But the next week I was able, in a measure at least, to heal their +wounded feelings. Actresses used to receive a good many little gifts +from admirers in the audience. They generally took the form of flowers +or candy, but sometimes there came instead a book, a piece of music, or +an ornament for the dressing-table; but Alixe's altar could boast an +entirely new votive offering. I received a letter and a box. The letter +was an outburst of admiration for Alixe, the "lily maid the tender, the +poetical," etc. The writer then went on to tell me how she had yearned +to express to me her feelings; how she had consulted her husband on the +matter, and how he had said certainly to write if she wished, and send +some little offering, which seemed appropriate, and "therefore she sent +_this_"; and with visions of a copy of Keats or Shelley or a +lace-trimmed pin-cushion, I opened the box and found the biggest mince +pie I ever saw. + +Certainly the lady's idea of an appropriate gift was open to criticism, +but not so her pie. That was rich perfection. Its fruity, spicy interior +was evenly warmed with an evident old French brandy,--no savagely +burning cooking brandy, mind,--and when the flaky marvel had stood upon +the heater for a time, even before its cutting up with a paper-knife, +the odour of goose grease was lost in the "Araby the Blest" scent of +mince meat. + + + + +_CHAPTER X + +J.E. OWENS'S "WANDERING BOYS." "A HOLE IN THE WALL" INCIDENT_ + + +The late John E. Owens, while acting in Cincinnati, had a severe cold. +He was feverish, and fearing for his throat, which was apt to give him +trouble, he had his physician, an old friend, come to see him back of +the scenes. The doctor brought with him an acquaintance, and Mr. Owens +asked them to wait till the next act was over to see how his throat was +going to behave. + +It's always a dangerous thing to turn outsiders loose behind the +scenes; for if they don't fall into traps, or step into paint pots, they +are sure to pop on to the stage. + +Mr. Owens supposed the gentlemen would stop quietly in his room, but not +they. Out they wandered on discovery intent. A well-painted scene caught +the doctor's eye. He led his friend up to it, to take a better look; +then as only part of it was visible from where they stood, they followed +it along. + +Mr. Owens and I were on the stage. Suddenly his eyes distended. "What in +the devil?" he whispered. I looked behind me, and at the same moment the +audience burst into shouts of laughter; for right into the centre of the +stage had walked, with backs toward the audience, two tall gentlemen, +each with a shining bald head, each tightly buttoned in a long black +overcoat, and each gesticulating with a heavy cane. + +I whispered to Mr. Owens, "The two Dromios"; but he snapped out, "Two +blind old bats." + +When they heard the roar behind them, they turned their heads, and then +a funnier, wilder exit I never saw than was made by these two dignified +old gentlemen; while Owens added to the laughter by taking me by the +hand, and when we had assumed their exact attitude, singing "Two +wandering boys from Switzerland." + +I am reminded that the first performance I ever saw in my life had one +of the most grotesque interruptions imaginable. At a sort of country +hotel much frequented by driving parties and sleighing parties, a +company of players were "strapped,"--to use the theatrical term, +stranded,--unable either to pay their bills or to move on. There was a +ballroom in the house, and the proprietor allowed them to erect a +temporary stage there and give a performance, the guests in the house +promising to attend in a body. + +One of the plays was an old French farce, known to English audiences as +"The Hole in the Wall." The principal comedy part was a clerk to two +old misers, who starved him outrageously. + +I was a little, stiffly starched person, and I remember that I sat on +some one's silk lap, and slipped and slipped, and was hitched up and +immediately slipped again until I wished I might fall off and be done +with it. Near me sat a little old maiden lady, who had come in from her +village shop to see "the show." She wore two small, sausage curls either +side of her wrinkled cheeks, large glasses, a broad lace collar, while +three members of her departed family gathered together in one fell group +on a mighty pin upon her tired chest. She held a small bag on her knee, +and from it she now and then slid a bit of cake which, as she nibbled +it, gave off a strong odour of caraway seed. + +[Illustration: _John E. Owens_] + +Now the actor was clever in his "make-up," and each time he appeared he +looked thinner than he had in the scene before. Instead of laughing, +however, the old woman took it seriously, and she had to wipe her +glasses with her carefully folded handkerchief several times before +that last scene, when she was quite overcome. + +His catch phrase had been, "Oh! oh! how hungry I am!" and every time he +said it, she gave a little involuntary groan; but as he staggered on at +the last, thin as a bit of thread paper, hollow-cheeked, white-faced, +she indignantly exclaimed, "Well now, _that's_ a shame!" + +The people laughed aloud; the comedian fixed his eyes upon her face, and +with hands pressed against his stomach groaned, "O-h! how hungry I am!" +and then she opened that bag and drew forth two long, twisted, fried +cakes, rose, stood on her tip-toes, and reaching them up to him +tearfully remarked:-- + +"Here, you poor soul, take these. They are awful dry; but it's all I've +got with me." + +The audience fairly screamed; but poor and stranded as that company was, +the comedian was an artist, for he accepted the fried cakes, ate them +ravenously to the last crumb, and so kept well within the character he +was playing, without hurting the feelings of the kind-hearted, little +old woman. + +It's pleasant to know that that clever bit of acting attracted the +attention and gained the interest of a well-to-do gentleman, who was +present, and who next day helped the actors on their way to the city. + +A certain foreign actor once smilingly told me "I was a crank about my +American public." I took his little gibe in good part; for while he knew +foreign audiences, he certainly did _not_ know American ones as well as +I, who have faced them from ocean to ocean, from British Columbia to +Florida. Two characteristics they all share in common,--intelligence and +fairness,--otherwise they vary as widely, have as many marked +peculiarities, as would so many individuals. New York and Boston are +_the_ authorities this side of "the Great Divide," while San Francisco +sits in judgment by the blue Pacific. + +One never-to-be-forgotten night I went to a fashionable theatre in New +York City to see a certain English actress make her debut before an +American audience, which at that time was considered quite an +interesting event, since there were but one or two of her countrywomen +over here then. The house was very full; the people were of the +brightest and the "smartest." I sat in a stage box and noted their +eagerness, their smiling interest. + +The curtain was up, there was a little dialogue, and then the stage door +opened. I dimly saw the actress spreading out her train ready to "come +on," the cue was given, a figure in pale blue and white appeared in the +doorway, stood for one single, flashing instant, then lurched forward, +and with a crash she measured her full length upon the floor. + +The shocked "O-h-h" that escaped the audience might have come from one +pair of lips, so perfect was its spontaneity, and then dead and perfect +silence fell. + +The actress lay near but one single piece of furniture (she was alone in +the scene, unfortunately), and that was one of those frail, useless, +gilded trifles known as reception chairs. She reached out her hand, and +lifting herself by that, had almost reached her knee, when the chair +tipped under her weight, and they both fell together. + +It was awful. A deep groan burst from the people in the parquet. I saw +many women hide their eyes; men, with hands already raised to applaud, +kept the attitude rigidly, while their tight-pressed lips and frowning +brows showed an agony of sympathy. Then suddenly an arm was thrust +through the doorway; I knew it for the head carpenter's. Though in a +shirt sleeve, it was bare to the elbow, and not over clean, but strong +as a bough of living oak. She seized upon it and lifting herself, with +scarlet face and neck and breast, she stood once more upon her feet. And +then the storm broke loose; peal on peal of thunderous applause shook +the house. But four times in my life have I risked throwing flowers +myself; but that night mine were the first roses that fell at her feet. +She seemed dazed; quite distinctly I heard her say "off" to some one in +the entrance, "But what's the matter?" + +At last she came forward. She was plump almost to stoutness, but she +moved most gracefully. Her bow was greeted with long-continued applause. +Sympathy, courtesy, encouragement, welcome--all were expressed in that +general and enthusiastic outburst. + +"Why," said she after all was over, "at home they would have hissed me, +had that happened there." + +"Oh!" exclaimed one who heard, "never; they could not be so cruel." + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "_afterward_ they might have applauded, but +not at first. Surely they would have hissed me." + +And with these words ringing in my ears, no wonder that, figuratively +speaking, I knelt at the feet of a New York audience and proudly kissed +its hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI + +STAGE CHILDREN. MY "LITTLE BREECHES" IN "MISS MULTON"_ + + +In the play of "Miss Multon" a number of children are required for the +first act. They are fortunately supposed to be the children of the poor, +and they come to a Christmas party. As I had that play in my +_repertoire_ for several years, I naturally came in contact with a great +number of little people, and that's just what they generally were, +little men and women, with here and there at long intervals a _real_ +child. + +They were of all kinds and qualities,--some well-to-do, some very poor, +some gentle and well-mannered, some wild as steers, some brazen-faced +and pushing, some sweet and shy and modest. I had one little child--a +mere tot--take hold of the ribbon with which I tied my cape and ask me +how much it was a yard; she also inquired about the quality of the +narrow lace edge on my handkerchief, and being convinced that it was +real, sharply told me to look out "it didn't get stoled." One little +girl came every night, as I sat waiting for my cue, to rub her fingers +up and down over the velvet collar of my cape. Touching the soft +yielding surface seemed to give her exquisite pleasure, and I caught the +same child standing behind me when I wore the rich red dress, holding +her hands up to it, as to a fire, for warmth. Poor little soul! she had +sensibility and imagination both. + +The play requires that one child should be very small; and as it was no +unusual thing for the little one to get frightened behind the scenes, I +used to come to the rescue, and as I found a question about "Mamma" won +their attention the quickest, I fell into the habit of saying, first +thing: "Where's mamma? Is she here? Show me, where." And having once won +attention, it had gone hard with me indeed had I failed to make friends +with the youngster. + +One Monday evening as I came to my place, I saw the new baby standing +all forlorn, with apparently no one at all to look after her, not even +one of the larger children. She was evidently on the very verge of +frightened tears, and from old habit I stooped down and said to her, +"Where's mamma, dear?" + +She lifted two startled blue eyes to my face and her lips began to +tremble. I went on, "Is mamma here?" The whole little face drew up in a +distressed pucker, and with gasps she whispered, "She's in er box." + +I raised my head and glanced across the stage. An old gentleman sat in +the box opposite, and I knew a merry young party had the one on our own +side, so I answered: "Oh, no, dear, mamma's not in the box; she's--" +when the poor baby cried, "Yes, she is, my mamma's in a box!" and buried +her curly head in the folds of my skirt and burst into sobs. + +At that moment a hard-voiced, hard-faced, self-sufficient girl pushed +forward, and explained in a patronizing way: "Oh, she's too little to +say it right. She ain't got no mother; she's dead, and it's the coffin +Annie means by the box." + +Oh, poor baby, left behind! poor little scrap of humanity! + +In another city the child was older, nearly five, but so very small that +she did nicely in the tiny trousers (it is a boy's part, as I should +have said before), and when the act was over, I kissed the brightly +pretty face and offered her a little gift. She put out her hand eagerly, +then swiftly drew it back again, saying, "It's money." + +"Yes," I answered. "It's for you, take it." + +[Illustration: _"Little Breeches"_] + +She hung her head and murmured, "It's money, I dar'sent." + +"Why not?" I asked. + +"'Cause we're too poor," she replied, which was certainly the oddest +reason I ever heard advanced for not accepting offered money. I was +compelled to hurry to my dressing-room to prepare for the next act; but +I saw with what disappointed eyes she followed me, and as I kept +thinking of her and her queer answer I told my maid to go out and see if +the pretty, very clean little girl was still there, and, if so, to send +her to my room. Presently a faint tap, low down on the door, told me my +expected visitor had arrived. Wide-eyed and smiling she entered, and +having some cough drops on my dressing-table, I did the honours. Cough +drops of strength and potency they were, too, but sweet, and therefore +acceptable to a small girl. She looked at them in her wistful way, and +then very prettily asked, "Please might she eat one right then?" + +I consented to that seemingly grave breach of etiquette, and then asked +if her mother was with her. + +"Oh, no! Sam had brought her." (Sam was the gas man.) + +"Why," I went on, "did you not take that money, dear?" (her eyes +instantly became regretful). "Don't you want it?" + +"Oh, yes, ma'am," she eagerly answered. "Yes, ma'am, I want it, thank +you; but you see I might get smacked again--like I did last week." + +Our conversation at this embarrassing point was interrupted by the +appearance of Sam, who came for the little one. I sent her out with a +message for the maid, and then questioned Sam, who, red and apologetic, +explained that "the child had never seen no theatre before; but he knew +that the fifty cents would be a godsend to them all, and an honest +earned fifty cents, too, and he hoped the kid hadn't given me no +trouble," and he beamed when I said she was charming and so +well-mannered. + +"Yes," he reckoned, "they aimed to bring her up right. Yer see," he +went on, "her father's my pal, and he married the girl that--a +girl--well, the best kind of a girl yer can think of" (poor Sam), "and +they both worked hard and was gettin' along fine, until sickness come, +and then he lost his job, and it's plumb four months now that he's been +idle; and that girl, the wife, was thin as a rail, and they would die +all together in a heap before they'd let any one help 'em except with +work." + +"What," I asked, "did the child mean by getting a smacking last week?" + +"Oh," he answered, "the kid gets pretty hungry, I suppose, and t'other +day when she was playin' with the Jones child, there in the same house, +Mrs. Jones asks her to come in and have some dinner; and as she lifted +one of the covers from the cooking-stove, the kid says: 'My, you must be +awful rich, you make a fire at both ends of your stove at once. My mamma +only makes a fire under just one hole, 'cause we don't have anything +much to cook now 'cept tea.' The speech reached the mother's ears, and +she smacked the child for lettin' on to any one how poor they are. Lord, +no, Miss, she dar'sent take no money, though God knows they need it bad +enough." + +With dim eyes I hurriedly scribbled a line on a bit of wrapping paper, +saying:--"This little girl has played her part so nicely that I want her +to have something to remember the occasion by, and since I shall not be +in the city to-morrow, and cannot select anything myself, I must ask you +to act for me." Then I folded it about a green note, and calling back +the child, I turned her about and pinned both written message and money +to the back of her apron. The little creature understood the whole thing +in a flash. She danced about joyously: "Oh, Sam," she cried, "the lady's +gived me a present, and I can't help myself, can I?" + +And Sam wiped his hand on his breeches leg, and, clearing his throat +hard, asked "if I'd mind shakin' hands?" + +And I didn't mind it a bit. Then, with clumsy care, he wrapped the child +in her thin bit of a cape, and led her back to that home which gave +lodgement to both poverty and pride. + +While the play was new, in the very first engagement outside of New +York, I had a very little child for that scene. She was flaxen blond, +and her mother had dressed her in bright sky-blue, which was in itself +an odd colour for a little boy to wear. Then the small breeches were so +evidently mother-made, the tiny bits of legs surmounted with such an +enormous breadth of seat, the wee Dutch-looking blue jacket, and the +queer blue cap on top of the flaxen curls, gave the little creature the +appearance of a Dutch doll. The first sight of her, or, perhaps, I +should say "him," the first sight of him provoked a ripple of merriment; +but when he turned full about on his bits of legs and toddled up stage, +giving a full, perfect view of those trousers to a keenly observant +public, people laughed the tears into their eyes. And this baby noted +the laughter, and resented it with a thrust-out lip and a frowning knit +of his level brows that was funnier than even his blue clothing--and +after that one Parthian glance at the audience, he invariably toddled to +me, and hid his face in my dress. From the very first night the child +was called "Little Breeches," and to this day I know her by no other +name. + +Time passed by fast--so fast; years came, years went. "Miss Multon" had +been lying by for a number of seasons. "Renee de Moray," "Odette," +"Raymonde," etc., had been in use; then some one asked for "Miss +Multon," and she rose obediently from her trunk, took her manuscript +from the shelf, and presented herself at command. One evening, in a +Southern California city, as I left my room ready for the first act of +this play, the door-man told me a young woman had coaxed so hard to see +me, for just one moment, that ignoring orders he had come to ask me if +he might bring her in; she was not begging for anything, just a moment's +interview. Rather wearily I gave permission, and in a few moments I saw +him directing her toward me. A very slender, very young bit of a woman, +a mere girl, in fact, though she held in her arms a small white bundle. +As she came smilingly up to me, I perceived that she was very blond. I +bowed and said "Good evening" to her, but she kept looking in smiling +silence at me for a moment or two, then said eagerly, "Don't you know +me, Miss Morris?" + +I looked hard at her. "No," I said; "and if I have met you before, it's +strange, for while I cannot remember names, my memory for faces is +remarkable." + +"Oh," she said, in deep disappointment, "can't you remember me at +all--not at all?" + +Her face fell, she pushed out her nether lip, she knit her level, +flaxen brows. + +I leaned forward suddenly and touched her hand, saying, "You are +not--you can't be--my little--" + +"Yes, I am," she answered delightedly. "I am Little Breeches." + +"And this?" I asked, touching the white bundle. + +"Oh," she cried, "this is _my_ Little Breeches; but I shan't dress him +in bright blue." + +"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "how old are you, and how old am I?" + +"Well," she replied, "I'm almost eighteen, and as you look just exactly +as you did when I saw you last, it doesn't matter, so far as I can see, +how many years have passed." (Oh, clever Little Breeches!) + +Then, having had Little Breeches 2d kissed and honestly admired, she +trotted away satisfied; and only as I made my entrance on the stage did +it occur to me that I had not asked her name; so she ends as she began, +simply Little Breeches. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII + +THE STAGE AS AN OCCUPATION FOR WOMEN_ + + +In looking over my letters from the gentle "Unknown," I find that the +question, "What advantage has the stage over other occupations for +women?" is asked by a Mrs. Some One more often than by the more +impulsive and less thoughtful girl writer, and it is put with frequency +and earnestness. + +Of course there is nothing authoritative in these answers of mine, +nothing absolute. They are simply the opinion of one woman, founded upon +personal experience and observation. We must, of course, to begin +with, eliminate the glamour of the stage--that strange, false lustre, as +powerful as it is intangible--and consider acting as a practical +occupation, like any other. And then I find that in trying to answer the +question asked, I am compelled, after all, to turn to a memory. + +I had been on the stage two years when one day I met a schoolmate. Her +father had died, and she, too, was working; but she was bitterly envious +of my occupation. I earnestly explained the demands stage wardrobe made +upon the extra pay I drew; that in actual fact she had more money for +herself than I had. Again I explained that rehearsals, study, and +preparation of costumes required time almost equal to her working hours, +with the night work besides; but she would not be convinced. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried, "I am at service, that means I'm a +dependant, I labour for another. You serve, yes, but you labour for +yourself," and lo! she had placed her stubby little finger upon the sore +spot in the working-woman's very heart, when she had divined that in the +independence of an actress lay her great advantage over other workers. + +Of course this independence is not absolute; but then how many men there +are already silver-haired at desk or bench or counter who are still +under the authority of an employer! Like these men, the actress's +independence is comparative; but measured by the bondage of other +working-women, it is very great. We both have duties to perform for +which we receive a given wage, yet there is a difference. The +working-girl is expected to be subservient, she is too often regarded as +a menial, she is ordered. An actress, even of small characters, is +considered a necessary part of the whole. She assists, she attends, she +obliges. Truly a difference. + +Again, women shrink with passionate repugnance from receiving orders +from another woman; witness the rarity of the American domestic. A pity? +Yes; but what else can you expect? The Americans are a dominant race. +Free education has made all classes too nearly equal for one woman to +bend her neck willingly and accept the yoke of servitude offered by +another woman. + +And even this is spared to the actress, since her directions are more +often received from the stage manager or manager than from a woman star. +True, her life is hard, she has no home comforts; but, then, she has no +heavy duties to perform, no housework, bed-making, sweeping, +dish-washing, or clothes-washing, and when her work is done, she is her +own mistress. She goes and comes at her own will; she has time for +self-improvement, but best of all she has something to look forward to. +That is a great advantage over girls of other occupations, who have such +a small chance of advancement. + +Some impetuous young reader who speaks first and thinks afterward may +cry out that I am not doing justice to the profession of acting, even +that I discredit it in thus comparing it with humble and somewhat +mechanical vocations; so before I go farther, little enthusiasts, let me +remind you of the wording of this present query. It does not ask what +advantage has acting over other professions, over other arts, but "What +advantage has it over other occupations for women?" + +A very sweeping inquiry, you see; hence this necessary comparison with +shop, factory, and office work. As to the other professions, taking, for +instance, law or medicine, preparations for practice must be very +costly. A girl puts her family to a great strain to pay her college +expenses, or if some family friend advances funds, when she finally +passes all the dreaded examinations, and has the legal right to hang out +her shingle, she starts in the race of life handicapped with crushing +debts. + +The theatre is, I think, the only place where a salary is paid to +students during all the time they are learning their profession; surely +a great, a wonderful advantage over other professions to be +self-sustaining from the first. + +Then the arts, but ah! life is short and art, dear Lord, art is long, +almost unto eternity. And she who serves it needs help, much help, and +then must wait, long and wearily, for the world's response and +recognition, that, even if they come, are apt to be somewhat uncertain, +unless they can be cut on a marble tomb; then they are quite positive +and hearty. But in the art of acting the response and recognition come +swift as lightning, sweet as nectar, while you are young enough to enjoy +and to make still greater efforts to improve and advance. + +So it seems to me the great advantage of acting over work is one's +independence, one's opportunity to improve oneself. Its advantage over +the professions is that it is self-sustaining from the start. Its +advantage over the arts is its swift reward for earnest endeavour. + +It must be very hard to endure the contempt so often bestowed upon the +woman who simply serves. I had a little taste of it once myself; and +though it was given me by accident, and apologies and laughter followed, +I remember quite well that even that tiny taste was distinctly +unpleasant--yes, and bitter. I was abroad with some very intimate +friends, and Mrs. P----, an invalid, owing to a mishap, was for some +days without a maid. We arrived in Paris hours behind time, late at +night, and went straight to our reserved rooms, seeing no one but some +sleepy servants. + +Early next morning, going to my friends' apartments, I came upon this +piteous sight: Mrs. P----, who had a head of curly hair, was not only +without a maid, but also without the use of her right arm. The fame of +Charcot had brought her to Paris. Unless she breakfasted alone, which +she hated, her hair must be arranged. Behold, then, the emergency for +which her husband, Colonel P----, had, boldly not to say recklessly, +offered his services. + +I can see them now. She, with clenched teeth of physical suffering and +uplifted eye of the forgiving martyr, sat in combing jacket before him; +and he, with the maid's white apron girt tight about him just beneath +his armpits, had on his soldierly face an expression of desperate +resolve that suggested the leading of a forlorn hope. A row of hair-pins +protruded sharply from between his tightly closed lips; a tortoise-shell +back-comb, dangling from one side of his full beard where he placed it +for safety, made this amateur hairdresser a disturbing sight both for +gods and men. + +With legs well braced and far apart, his arms high lifted like outspread +wings, he wielded the comb after the manner of a man raking hay. For one +moment all my sympathy was for the shrinking woman; then, when +suddenly, in despite of the delicious morning coolness, a great drop of +perspiration splashed from the Colonel's corrugated brow, down into the +obstreperous curly mass he wrestled with, I pitied him, too, and +cried:-- + +"Oh, I'll do that. Take care, you'll swallow a pin or two if you +contradict me. Your spirit is willing, Colonel, but your flesh, for all +you have such a lot of it, is weak, when you come to hair-dressing!" + +And regardless of his very earnest protest, I took the tangled, +tormented mass in hand and soon had it waving back into a fluffy knot; +and just as I was drawing forth some short locks for the forehead, there +came a knock and in bounced the mistress of the house, our landlady, +Mme. F----, who, missing our arrival the night before, came now to bid +us welcome and inquire as to our satisfaction with arrangements, etc. +She was a short woman, of surprising breadth and more surprising +velocity of speech. She could pronounce more words to a single breath +than any other person I have ever met. She was German by birth, and +spoke French with a strong German accent, while her English was a thing +to wring the soul, sprinkled as it was with German "unds," "ufs," and +"yousts," and French "zees" and "zats." Our French being of the slow and +precise kind, and her English of the rattling and at first +incomprehensible type, the conversation was somewhat confused. But even +so, my friends noticed with surprise, that Madame did not address one +word of welcome to me. They hastened to introduce me, using my married +name. + +A momentary annoyance came into her face, then she dropped her lids +haughtily, swept me from head to foot with one contemptuous glance, and +without even the faintest nod in return to my "Bon jour, Madame," she +turned to Mrs. P----, who, red with indignation, was trying to sputter +out a demand for an explanation, and asked swiftly:-- + +"Und zat ozzer lady? you vas to be t'ree--n'est-ce pas? She hav' not +com' yed? to-morrow, perhaps, und--und" (I saw what was coming, but my +companions suspected nothing), "und"--she dropped her lids again and +indicated me with a contemptuous movement of the head--"she, zat maid, +you vant to make arrange for her? You hav' not write for room for zat +maid?" + +I leaned from the window to hide my laughter, for it seemed to me that +Colonel P---- jumped a foot, while the cry of his wife drowned the sound +of the short, warm word that is of great comfort to angry men. Before +they could advance one word of explanation, an aproned waiter fairly +burst into the room, crying for "Madame! Madame! to come quick, for that +Jules was at it very bad again!" And she wildly rushed out, saying over +her shoulder, "By und by we zee for zat maid, und about zat udder lady, +by und by also," and so departed at a run with a great rattling of +starch and fluttering of cap ribbons; for Jules, the head cook, already +in the first stages of delirium tremens, was making himself interesting +to the guests by trying to jump into the fountain basin to save the +lives of the tiny ducklings, who were happily swimming there, and Madame +F---- was sorely needed. + +Yes, I laughed--laughed honestly at the helpless wrath of my friends, +and pretended to laugh at the mistake; but all the time I was saying to +myself, "Had I really been acting as maid, how cruelly I should have +suffered under that contemptuous glance and from that withheld bow of +recognition." She had found me well-dressed, intelligent, and +well-mannered; yet she had insulted me, because she believed me to be a +lady's maid. No wonder women find service bitter. + +We had retired from the breakfast room and were arranging our plans for +the day, when a sort of whirlwind came rushing through the hall, the +door sprang open almost without a pronounced permission, and Madame +F---- flung herself into the room, caught my hands in hers, pressed them +to her heart, to her lips, to her brow, wept in German, in French, in +English, and called distractedly upon "Himmel!" "Ciel!" and "Heaven!" +But she found her apologies so coldly received by my friends that she +was glad to turn the flood of her remorse in my direction, and for very +shame of the scene she was making I assured her the mistake was quite +pardonable--as it was. It was her manner that was almost unpardonable. +Then she added to my discomfort by bursting out with fulsome praise of +me as an actress; how she had seen me and wept, and so on and on, she +being only at last walked and talked gently out of the room. + +But that was not the end of her remorse. A truly French bouquet with its +white paper petticoat arrived in about an hour, "From the so madly +mistooken Madame F----," the card read, and that act of penance was +performed every morning as long as I remained in Paris. But one day she +appealed to the Colonel for pity and sympathy. + +"Ah!" said she, "I hav' zee two tr'ubles, zee two sorrows! I hav' zee +grief to vound zee feelin's of zat so fine actrice Americaine--zat ees +one tr'ubles, und den I hav' zee shame to mak' zat grande fool +meestak'--oh, mon Dieu! I tak' her for zee maid, und zare my most great +tr'uble come in! I hav' no one with zee right to keek me--to keek me +hard from zee back for being such a fool. I say mit my husband dat +night, 'Vill you keek me hard, if you pleas'?' Mais, he cannot, he hav' +zee gout in zee grande toe, und he can't keek vurth one sou!--und zat is +my second tr'uble!" + +Behind her broad back the Colonel confessed that had she expressed such +a wish on the occasion of the mistake, he would willingly have obliged +her, as he was quite free from gout. + +So any woman who goes forth to win her living as an actress will at +least be spared the contemptuous treatment bestowed on me in my short +service as an amateur lady's maid. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII + +THE BANE OF THE YOUNG ACTRESS'S LIFE_ + + +What is the bane of a young actress's life? + +Under the protection of pretty seals stamped in various tints of wax, I +find one question appearing in many slightly different forms. A large +number of writers ask, "What is the greatest difficulty a young actress +has to surmount?" In another pile of notes the question appears in this +guise, "What is the principal obstacle in the way of the young actress?" +While two motherly bodies ask, "What one thing worries an actress the +most?" After due thought I have cast them all together, boiled them +down, and reduced them to this, "What is the bane of a young actress's +life?" which question I can answer without going into training, with one +hand tied behind me, and both eyes bandaged, answer in one +word--_dress_. Ever since that far-away season when Eve, the beautiful, +inquiring, let-me-see-for-myself Eve, made fig leaves popular in Eden, +and invented the apron to fill a newly felt want, dress has been at once +the comfort and the torment of woman. + +Acting is a matter of pretence, and she who can best pretend a splendid +passion, a tender love, or a murderous hate, is admittedly the finest +actress. Time was when stage wardrobe was a pretence, too. An actress +was expected to please the eye, she was expected to be historically +correct as to the shape and style of her costume; but no one expected +her queenly robes to be of silk velvet, her imperial ermine to be +anything rarer than rabbit-skin. My own earliest ermine was humbler +still, being constructed of the very democratic white canton flannel +turned wrong side out, while the ermine's characteristic little black +tails were formed by short bits of round shoe-lacing. The only advantage +I can honestly claim for this domestic ermine is its freedom from the +moths, who dearly love imported garments of soft fine cloth and rare +lining. I have had and have seen others have, in the old days, really +gorgeous brocades made by cutting out great bunches of flowers from +chintz and applying them to a cheaper background, and then picking out +the high lights with embroidery silk, the effect being not only +beautiful, but rich. All these make-believes were necessary then, on a +$30 or $35 a week salary, for a leading lady drew no more. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris as "Jane Eyre"_] + +But times are changed, stage lighting is better, stronger. The opera +glass is almost universally used, deceptions would be more easily +discovered; and more, oh, so much more is expected from the actress of +to-day. Formerly she was required, first of all, to sink her own +individuality in that of the woman she pretended to be; and next, if +it was a dramatized novel she was acting in, she was to make herself +look as nearly like the described heroine as possible; otherwise she had +simply to make herself as pretty as she knew how in her own way, that +was all. But now the actresses of a great city are supposed to set the +fashion for the coming season. They almost literally dress in the style +of to-morrow: thus the cult of clothes becomes harmful to the actress. +Precious time that should be given to the minute study, the final +polishing of a difficult character, is used instead in deciding the +pitch of a skirt, the width of a collar, or open sleeve-strap, or no +sleeve at all. + +Some ladies of my acquaintance who had been to the theatre three times, +avowedly to study as models the costumes, when questioned as to the +play, looked at one another and then answered vaguely: "The performance? +Oh, nothing remarkable! It was fair enough; but the dresses! They are +really beyond anything in town, and must have cost a mint of money!" + +So we have got around to the opposite of the old-time aim, when the +answer might possibly have been: "The acting was beyond anything in +town. The dresses? Nothing remarkable! Oh, well, fair enough!" + +I have often been told by famous women of the past that the beautiful +Mrs. Russell, then of Wallack's Theatre, was the originator in this +country of richly elegant realism in stage costuming. When it was known +that the mere linings of her gowns cost more than the outside of other +dresses; that all her velvet was silk velvet; all her lace to the last +inch was real lace; that no wired nor spliced feathers curled about her +splendid leghorns, only magnificent single plumes, each worth weeks of +salary, this handsome woman, superbly clad, created a sensation, but +alas! at the same time, she unconsciously scattered seed behind her that +sprang up into a fine crop of dragon's teeth for following young +actresses to gather. _Qui donne le menu, donne la faim!_ And right here +let me say, I am not of those who believe the past holds a monopoly of +all good things. I have much satisfaction in the present, and a strong +and an abiding faith in the future, and even in this matter of dress, +which has become such an anxiety to the young actress, I would not ask +to go back to those days of primitive costuming. In Shakespere's day +there appeared over a "drop," or curtain of green, a legend plainly +stating, "This is a street in Verona," and every man with an imagination +straightway saw the Veronese street to his complete satisfaction; but +there were those who had no imagination, and to hold their attention and +to keep their patronage, scenes had to be painted for them. One would +not like to see a woman draped in plain grey with an attached placard +saying, "This is a ball gown" or "This is a Coronation robe," the +imagination would balk at it. But there is a far cry between that and +the real Coronation robe of velvet, fur, and jewels. What I would ask +for is moderation, and above all freedom for the actress from the burden +of senseless extravagance which is being bound upon her shoulders--not +by the public, not even by the manager, but by the mischievous small +hands of sister actresses, who have private means outside of their +salaries. How generous they would be if they could be content to dress +with grace and elegance while omitting the mad extravagance that those +who are dependent upon their salaries alone will surely try to emulate, +and sometimes at what a price, dear Heaven, at what a price! + +Let us say an actress plays the part of a woman of fashion--of rank. As +she makes her first appearance, she is supposed to have returned from +the opera. Therefore, though she may wear them but one moment, hood and +opera cloak are needed because they will help out the illusion. Suppose, +then, she wears a long cloak of velvet or cloth, with a lining of +delicate tinted quilted satin or fur; if the impression of warmth or +elegance and comfort is given, its work has been well done. But suppose +the actress enters in an opera cloak of such gorgeous material that the +elaborate embroidery on it seems an impertinence--a creation lined with +the frailest, most expensive fur known to commerce, frothing with real +lace, dripping with semi-precious jewels--what happens? The cloak pushes +forward and takes precedence of the wearer, a buzz arises, heads bob +this way and that, opera-glasses are turned upon the wonderful cloak +whose magnificence has destroyed the illusion of the play; and while its +beauty and probable price are whispered over, the scene is lost, and ten +to one the actress is oftener thought of as Miss So-and-So, owner of +that wonderful cloak, than as Madame Such-an-One, heroine of the drama. + +Extravagance is inartistic--so for that reason I could wish for +moderation in stage dressing. Heavens, what a nightmare dress used to be +to me! For months I would be paying so much a week to my dressmaker for +the gowns of a play. I thought my heart would break to pieces, when, +during the long run of "Divorce," just as I had finished paying for five +dresses, Mr. Daly announced that we were all to appear in new costumes +for the one hundredth night. I pleaded, argued, too, excitedly, that my +gowns were without a spot or stain; that they had been made by the +dressmaker he had himself selected, and he had approved of them, etc., +and he made answer, "Yes, yes, I know all that; but I want to stir up +fresh interest, therefore we must have something to draw the people, and +they will come to see the new dresses." + +And then, in helpless wrath, I burst out with: "Oh, of course! If we are +acting simply as dress and cloak models in the Fifth Avenue show room, I +can't object any longer. You see, I was under the impression people +came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me +my error." + +For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our +unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am +surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I +surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the +open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial +revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for +me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after +one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill. + +Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she +could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her--that is very +bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and when +the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more +than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest +fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, +fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists +joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best +hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now. + +So the young actress--unless she has some little means, aside from a +salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke +that salary out--is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; +for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and +besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the +poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs. + +Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I +think, have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming +pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in +her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her +$200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 +parasol." + +Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or +beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious +one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those +flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a +spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become +necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is +forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes +were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply +pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter +envy and fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the +mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their +owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the +under girl, in the struggle for clothes! + +In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe +for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and +shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes +of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite +taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for +production after production, it would seem that the management must +share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very +much higher than they were a few years ago. + +In France the stage, no doubt, partly fills the place of the departed +court in presenting new fashions to the public eye, doing it with the +graceful aplomb that has carried many a doubtful innovation on to sure +success. Those beautiful and trained artists take pleasure in first +presenting the style other women are to follow, and yet they share the +honour (?) with another class, whose most audacious follies in dress, +while studied from the corner of a downcast eye, are nevertheless often +slavishly followed. + +How many of the thousands of women, who years ago wore the large, +flaring back, felt hat, knew they were following the whim of a woman +known to the half-world as Cora Pearl? Not pretty, but of a very +beautiful figure, and English by birth, she was, one might say, of +course, a good horse-woman. She banqueted late one night--so late that +dawn was greying the windows and the sodden faces of her guests when +they began to take leave. She had indulged in too much wine for comfort; +her head was hot. She was seized with one of the wild whims of her +lawless class--she would mount then and there and ride in the Bois. +Remonstrances chilled her whim to iron will. Horses were sent for, her +maid aroused. She flung on her habit, and held her hand out for her +chapeau. There was none. + +"Mademoiselle should recall the new riding hat had been too small, had +been returned for blocking." + +"Tres bien, le vieux donc, vite!" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, il fut donne." A quick blow stopped further explanation. + +"Quelle que cruche, que cette fille," then a moment's silence, a roving +about of the small hot eyes, and with a bound she tore from an American +artist's hand his big soft felt hat. Turning the flapping brim up, she +fastened it to the crown in three places with jewelled pins, tore a +bunch of velvet from her dinner corsage, secured it directly in front, +and clapping the hat on the back of her head, dashed downstairs and was +in the saddle with a scrabble and a bound, and away like mad, followed +by two men, who were her unwilling companions. Riding longer than she +had intended, she returned in broad daylight. All Paris was agog over +her odd head gear. Her impudent, laughing face caught their fancy yet +again, and she trotted down from the Arc de Triomphe between two +rippling little streams of comment and admiration, with, "Comme elle est +belle!" "Quelle aplomb!" "Matin, quelle chic!" "Elle est forte +gentille!" "C'est le coup de grace!" "Le chapeau! le chapeau!" "La belle +Pearl! la belle Pearl!" reaching her distinctly at every other moment. + +And that was the origin of the back-turned, broad-brimmed hat that had +such vogue before the arrival of the Gainsborough or picture hat. + +If I were a young actress, I would rather be noted for acting than for +originating a new style of garment; but it is a free country, thank God, +and a big one, with room for all of us, whatever our preferences. And +though the young actress has the clothes question heavy on her mind now, +and finds it hard to keep up with others and at the same time out of +debt, she has the right to hope that by and by she will be so good an +actress, and so valuable to the theatre, that a fat salary will make the +clothes matter play second fiddle, as is right and proper it should, to +the question of fine acting. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV + +THE MASHER, AND WHY HE EXISTS_ + + +Thousands of persons who do not themselves use slang understand and even +appreciate it. The American brand is generally pithy, compact, and +expressive, and not always vulgar. Slang is at its worst in contemptuous +epithets, and of those the one that is lowest and most offensive seems +likely to become a permanent, recognized addition to the language. No +more vulgar term exists than "masher," and it is a distinct comfort to +find Webster ascribing the origin of the word to England's reckless +fun-maker,--_Punch_. + +Beaux, bucks, lady-killers, Johnnies,--all these terms have been applied +at different periods to the self-proclaimed fascinator of women, and +to-day we will use some one, any of them, rather than that +abomination,--masher. Nor am I "puttin' on scallops and frills," as the +boys say. I know a good thing when I hear it, as when a very much +overdressed woman entered a car, and its first sudden jerk broke her +gorgeous parasol, while its second flung her into the arms of the +ugliest, fattest man present and whirled her pocket-book out of the +window, I knew that the voice of conviction that slowly said, "Well, she +is up against it," slangily expressed the unfortunate woman's exact +predicament. Oh, no, I'm not "puttin' on frills," I am only objecting +with all my might and main to a term, as well as to the contemptible +creature indicated by it,--masher. + +In a certain school, long ago, there was a very gentle, tender-hearted +teacher, who was also the comforter and peacemaker of her flock. +Whenever there was trouble at recess, and some one pushed or some one +else had their gathers torn out, or, in actual war, names were called, +and "mean thing" and "tattle-tale" brought sobbing little maids to the +teacher's arms, or when loss and disaster in the way of missing blocks +of rubber, broken slate pencils, or ink-stained reader covers sent +floods of tears down small faces, this teacher always came to the rescue +and soothed and patted and invariably wound up with these exact words, +"There, there, don't let us say anything more about it, and then we'll +all be quite happy." I am sure we all thought that it was the eleventh +commandment, "Not to say anything more about it." + +Now every one of us suffered more or less from our encounters with the +multiplication table. Of course _fives_ and _tens_ were at a +premium--even very stupid little girls could get through them, and +_twos_ were not so bad, but the rest of the tables were tear-washed +daily. _Sevens_ were, however, my own especial nightmare--even to this +day my fingers instinctively begin to move when I multiply any figure by +seven. Standing in class on the platform, the _sevens_ one day fell to +me. Being charged to put my hands before me, that I should not by chance +forget and count by their aid, I staggered and reeled through the table +so far as seven times seven, when, moistening my lips, I hoarsely +whispered, "Forty-nine," and the shock of finding the answer correct +destroyed me utterly. Seven times eight was anything they liked in +figures, and so I recklessly cried out, "Oh, sixty-two, I guess," and +burst into tears. Recess came, and I would not move from my desk; and +then the teacher dried my tears on her own cool, sweet handkerchief, and +was comforting me as best she could, when suddenly I stole her thunder +by pressing my damp cheek to hers and saying eagerly, "Don't let us say +anything more about the _sevens_, Miss Sands, and then we'll all be +quite happy." + +Poor little tots! Poor multiplication table! and now, oh, how I would +like to cry, "Don't let us say anything more about the masher, and then +we'll all be quite happy;" but to calm the needless fears of many, let +me say at once, the creature is a nuisance, but not a danger. The +stealthy, crafty, determined pursuer of the young and honest actress is +a product of the imagination. These "Johnnies" who hang about stage +doors and send foolish and impertinent notes to the girlhood of the +stage are not in love--they are actuated by vanity, pure and simple. +These young "taddies," with hair carefully plastered down, are as like +one another as are the peas of one pod,--each wishes to be considered a +very devil of a fellow; but how can that be unless he is recognized as a +fascinator of women, a masher; and the quickest way to obtain that +reputation is to be seen supping or driving with pretty actresses. + +One of the odd things of the professional life is that in the artistic +sense you are not considered an "actress" until you have shown some +merit, have done some good, honest work; but for the purposes of gossip +or scandal, ballet girls, chorus girls, or figurantes become actresses +full fledged. Mammas and aunties of would-be young artists seem to have +made a veritable bogy-man of this would-be lady-killer. What nonsense! +Any well-brought-up young woman, respecting the proprieties, can protect +herself from the attentions of this walking impertinence. Letters are +his chief weapon. If they are signed, it is easy to return them, if one +cares to take so much trouble. A gift would be returned; if sent without +a signature, it need not be shown nor worn. If the creature presumes to +hang about the stage door, a word of complaint to the manager will be +sufficient; the "masher" will at once "take notice" of some other door +and probably of some other actress. But I am asked, Why does he exist? +And I suppose he could not if he were not encouraged, and there does +exist a certain body of girls who think it great fun to get a jolly +supper or a ride to the races out of the Johnny's pocket-book. Wait, +now; please don't jump instantly to the conclusion that these chorus or +ballet girls are thoroughly bad because they smash to smithereens the +conventional laws regulating the conduct of society girls. Most of them, +on the contrary, are honest and, knowing how to take care of themselves, +will risk hearing a few impudent, wounding words rather than lose one +hour of merriment their youth craves. Of course this is not as it should +be, but these girls are pretty; life has been hard; delicate +sensibilities have not been cultivated in them. Before we harshly +condemn, let us first bow to that rough honesty that will defend +itself, if need be, with a blow. A refined girl would never put herself +in a position requiring such drastic measures; but it is, I think, to +these reckless young wretches, and a few silly, sentimental simpletons +who permit themselves to be drawn into a mawkish correspondence with +perfect strangers, that we really owe the continued existence of the +stage-door "masher," who wishes to be mistaken for a member of the +_jeunesse doree_. + +But the mammas and the aunties may feel perfectly safe for another +reason. The earnest, ambitious young gentlewoman you are watching over +is not often attractive to the "masher." The clever and promising +artist, Miss G----, is not his style. He is not looking for brains, +"don't yer know." He fancies No. 3 in the second row, she with the +flashing eyes and teeth; or No. 7 in the front row, that has the cutest +kick in the whole crowd. And his cheap and common letters of fulsome +compliment and invitation go to her accordingly. But the daring little +free lance who accepts these attentions pays a high price for the bit of +supper that is followed by gross impertinences. One would think that the +democratic twenty-five-cent oyster stew, and respect therewith, would +taste better than the small bird and the small bottle with insult as a +_demi-tasse_. Then, too, she loses caste at once; for it is not enough +that a girl should not do evil: she must also avoid the appearance of +evil. She will be judged by the character of her companions, and a few +half-hearted denials, a shrug of the shoulders, a discreetly suppressed +smile, will place her among the list of his "mashes." Oh, hideous word! + +Of course, now and again, at long, long intervals, a man really falls in +love with a woman whom he has seen only upon the stage; but no "masher" +proceedings are taken in such cases. On the other hand, very determined +efforts are made to locate the actress's family or friends, and through +them to be properly presented. + +Believing, as I did, that every girl had a perfect right to humiliate a +"masher" to the extent of her ability, I once went, it's hard to admit +it, but really I did go, too far in reprisal. Well, at all events, I was +made to feel rather ashamed of myself. We were presenting "Alixe" at Mr. +Daly's Broadway Theatre, just after the fire, and the would-be +lady-killer was abroad in the land and unusually active. There was +seldom a night that some one was not laughing contemptuously or frowning +fiercely over a "drop letter," as we called them. One evening my box +held a most inflammable communication. It was not written upon club +paper, nor had it any private monogram; in fact, it was on legal cap. +The hand was large, round, and laboriously distinct. The i's were +dotted, the t's crossed with painful precision, while toward capitals +and punctuation marks the writer showed more generosity than +understanding. His sentiment and romance were of the old-time rural +type, and I am certain he longed to quote, "The rose is red, the +violet's blue." I might have been a little touched but for the +signature. I loathed the faintest hint of anonymity, and simply could +not bring myself to believe that any man really and truly walked up and +down the earth bearing the name of Mr. A. Fix. Yet that was the +signature appended to the long, rapturous love-letter. I gave it a pitch +into the waste-basket and dressed for the play. Of course I spoke of the +name, and of course it was laughed at; but three nights later another +letter came--oh, well, it was just a letter. The writer was very +diffuse, and evidently had plenty of paper and ink and time at his +disposal. He dwelt on his sufferings as each day passed without a letter +from me. He explained just what efforts he had made, vainly made, to +secure sleep each night. He did not live in a large city when at home, +and he described how nearly he had come to being run over in trying to +cross our biggest street--while thinking of me. Oh, Mr Fix! He bravely +admitted he was due at the store out home, but he kept a-thinking I +might not have got that first letter, or maybe I wanted to look him over +before writing. So he had waited and was coming to the theatre that very +night, and his seat was in the balcony,--No. 3, left side, front +row,--and for fear I might not feel quite sure about him, he would hold +high to his face, in his left hand, a large white handkerchief. + +It didn't seem to occur to him that such an attitude would give him a +very grief-stricken aspect; he only desired to give me a fair chance "to +look him over." Without a second thought, I read that portion of the +letter in the greenroom, and the laughter had scarcely died away when +that admirable actor, but perfectly fiendish player of tricks, Louis +James, was going quietly from actor to actor arranging for the downfall +of A. Fix. + +So it happened that James, Clarke, and Lewis, instead of entering in a +group, came on in Indian file, each holding in the left hand a large +pocket-handkerchief. I being already on the stage, there was of course a +line spread of canvas in the balcony. The audience, ever quick to catch +on to a joke, seeing each man glance upward, followed suit, spied the +enormous handkerchief held high in the left hand, and realizing the +situation, burst into hilarious laughter. Uselessly I pleaded; at every +possible opportunity the white handkerchief appeared in some left hand, +while the stage manager vainly wondered why the audience laughed in such +unseemly places that night. + +The next day that young person, whom I had treated as a common "masher," +heaped a whole shovelful of hot, hot coals upon my guilty head by +writing me a letter less carefully dotted and crossed, somewhat more +confused in metaphor than before, but beginning with: "I am afraid you +are cruel. I think you must have betrayed me to your mates, for I do not +remember that they did such things before last night with their +handkerchiefs." + +Then, after telling me his home address, his business, and his exact +standing socially, he laid these specially large hot coals carefully +upon my brow, "So, though you make a laughing-stock of me, now don't +think I shall be mad about it; but remember if any trouble or sickness +comes to you, no matter how far from now, if you will just write me one +word, I'll help you to my plumb last cent," and truly Mr. Fix left me +ashamed and sorry. + +He had suffered for his name, which I believed to be an assumed one. +Poor young man, I offer an apology to his memory. + +One scamp wrote so brazenly, so persistently, demanding answers to be +sent to a certain prominent club, that I one day laid the letters before +Mr. Daly, and he advertised in the theatre programme that "if Mr. +B.M.B., of such a club, would call at the box office, he would receive +not the answer he expected, but the one he deserved," and Mr. Daly was +highly delighted when he heard that B.M.B., who was a "masher" _par +excellence_, had been literally chaffed out of the club rooms. + +Those creatures that, like poisonous toadstools, spring up at street +corners to the torment of women, should be taken in hand by the police, +since they encumber the streets and are a menace and a mortification to +female citizens. Let some brazen woman take the place of one of these +street "mashers," and proceed to ogle passers-by, and see how quickly +the police would gather her in. + +But so far as the stage "masher" is concerned, dear and anxious mamma, +auntie, or sister, don't worry about the safety of your actress to be. +The "masher" is an impertinence, a nuisance; but never, dear madam, +never a danger. + + + + +_CHAPTER XV + +SOCIAL CONDITIONS BEHIND THE SCENES_ + + +"What social conditions exist behind the scenes?" + +This fourth question is one that Charles Dickens would have called an +"agriwator," and as it is repeated every now and again, I ask myself +where is the curiosity about the theatre, its people, and its life to +end? The question is, What social conditions exist behind the scenes? +Now to be quite frank, the first few times this query appeared, I was +distinctly aggravated. I said to myself, do these ladies and +gentlemen--yes, three males are in this inquiring group--do they think +we are a people so apart from all others that we require a separate and +distinctly different social code; that we know nothing of the law +governing the size, style, and use of the visiting card; that +congratulations, condolences, are unknown rites; that invitations, +acceptances, and regrets are ancient Hebrew to us, and calls, teas, +dinners, and dances are exalted functions far above our comprehension? +And then I read the question again, and saw I was making a ninny of +myself--an easy thing to do with the thermometer at ninety-nine in the +shade. That it said "behind the scenes," and with a laugh I recalled the +little child who had delightedly witnessed her first Christmas +pantomime; and being told afterward I was one of the people of the play, +she watched and listened eagerly some time before coming and resting a +dimpled hand on mine, to ask disappointedly, "Please, does all the +actin' people have 'emselves jes' same as any one?" + +Poor blue-eyed tot, she had expected at least a few twirls about the +room, a few bounds and hand kisses; and here I was "'having" just like +any one. So all my mistaken vexation gone, I'll try to make plain our +social condition behind the scenes. + +In the first place, then, a theatrical company is almost exactly like +one large family. Our feeling for one another is generally one of warm +good-fellowship. In our manners there is an easy familiarity which we +would not dream of using outside of our own little company circle. We +are a socially inclined people, communicative, fond of friendly +conversation, and hopelessly given over to jokes, or, as we put it, "to +guying." + +But don't imagine there's any _socialism_ about a theatre that means +community of property and association; on the contrary, we enter into +the keenest competition with one another. + +I dare say an outsider, as the non-professional has been termed time out +of mind, watching our conduct for a few days and nights, would conclude +that, though quite harmless, we are all a little _mad_. For the actor's +funny habit of injecting old, old lines of old, old plays into his +everyday conversation must be somewhat bewildering to the uninitiated:-- + +If an elderly, heavy breathing, portly gentleman, lifting his hat to a +gentle, dignified little lady, remarks, "Beshrew me, but I do love thee +still. Isn't it hot this morning; take this chair." Or if a very slender +pop-eyed young comedian, while wiping his brow, says, "Now could I drink +hot blood and hold it not a sin," and some one else calmly answers, "You +haven't got those words right, and you couldn't drink anything hot +to-day without having a fit." Or if two big, stalwart men, meeting in +the "entrance," fall suddenly into each other's arms, with a cry of +"Camille!" "Armand!" Or if a man enters the greenroom with his hat on, +and a half-dozen people call, "Do you take this for an ale-house, that +you can enter with such a swagger?" and the hat comes off with a +laughing apology. Or if the man with the cane is everlastingly +practising "carte and tierce" on somebody, or doing a broadsword fight +with any one who has an umbrella. If a woman passes with her eyes cast +down, reading a letter, and some one says, "In maiden meditation, fancy +free." If she eats a sandwich at a long rehearsal, and some one +instantly begins, "A creature not too bright nor good for human nature's +daily food." If she appears in a conspicuously new gown and some one +cries, "The riches of the ship have come on shore," ten to one she +replies, "A poor thing, but mine own." + +These things will look and sound queer and flighty to the outsider, who, +not acquainted with the lines or the plays they are from, cannot of +course see how aptly some of them adapt themselves to the situation. But +this one is plain to all. A young girl, who was a very careless dresser, +was trailing along the "entrance" one evening, when behind her the +leading man, quoting Juliet, remarked, "'Thou knowest the mask of night +is on my cheek,' or I would not dare tell you your petticoat is coming +off;" a perfect gale of laughter followed, in which the little sloven +joined heartily. + +Then one morning, rehearsal being dismissed, I was hurrying away, +intending to enjoy a ride on horse-back, when Mr. Davidge, Mr. Daly's +"old man," lifting his hat politely, and twisting Macbeth's words very +slightly, remarked, "I wish your horse swift and sure of foot, and so I +do commend you to its back," and as I laughed, "Macbeth, Act III," we +parted in mutual admiration for each other's knowledge of the great +play. + +The gentlemen are attentive to the ladies' small needs, providing seats +when possible, bringing a wrap, a glass of water, fanning you if you are +warm, carrying your long train if it is heavy; but never, never losing +the chance to play a joke on you if they can. + +There is generally some ringleader of greenroom fun; for most actors +are very impatient of "waits" between the scenes, and would rather pass +such time in pranks than in quiet conversation. On one occasion some of +the actors had made noise enough to reach the managerial ear, and they +were forfeited. The actresses laughed at their discomfiture, and revenge +was at once in order. Next night, then, four young men brought bits of +calico and threaded needles with them, and when their "wait" came, they +all sat quietly in a row and sewed steadily. The sight was so ludicrous +the women went off into unbounded laughter, and were in their turn +forfeited. + +Nothing excuses the use of swear words behind the scenes, and even a +very mild indulgence is paid for by a heavy forfeit. One actor, not too +popular with the company, used always to be late, and coming into the +dressing room, he would fling everything about and knock things over, +causing any amount of annoyance to his room-mates. He went on in but +one act, the third, and the lateness of the hour made his lack of +business promptitude the more marked. A joke was, of course, in order, +and a practical joke at that. + +One evening he was extra late, and that was the opportunity of the +joking room-mates. They carefully dropped some powerful, strong-holding +gum into the heels of his patent leather shoes, and had barely put them +in place, when the ever-late actor was heard coming on the run down the +passage. In he tore, flinging things right and left, overturning +make-ups, and knocking down precious silk hats. He grabbed his shoes, +jammed his foot into one, scowled and exclaimed disgustedly, "What the +deuce! there's something in this shoe. Bah," he went on, "and in this +one, too!" + +"Take them off and shake 'em," suggested the dropper of the gum. + +"No time," growled the victim; "I'll get docked if I'm a second late. +But these confounded things feel damp in the heels," and he kicked and +stamped viciously. + +"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the +heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now, +personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like--like a +china nest-egg, don't you know; but _damp heels_, it doesn't sound +right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!" + +And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you +spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then +asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place, +"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?" + +"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I +have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This +while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy known in +its fulness to the practical joker alone. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"_] + +The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment +his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could +scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried +nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the +street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas, +alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint, +his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck, +it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,--that +they brought both sock and skin with them. + +Three men, with tears in their eyes, had pencils, and kept tally of his +remarks as he danced about after each frantic tug at a glued-on shoe. +One took down every wounding, malicious word. A second caught and +preserved every defamatory word. While the third and busiest one secured +every profane word that fell from his enraged lips. + +Finally he poured the contents of the alcohol bottle into his shoes and, +swearing like a madman, waited for the gum to soften. And the manager, +who was not deaf, proved that his heart was harder than the best gum and +could not be softened at all. And to this day no member of the company +knows how much of the victim's salary was left to him that week after +forfeits for bad words were all paid up. But some good came from the +affair, for the actor was never again so late in arriving as not to have +time to look into his shoes for any strange substance possibly lurking +there. + +Personally, I detest the practical joke, but I have, alas! never been +above enjoying my share of the greenroom fun. Some members of Mr. Daly's +company were very stately and dignified, and he would have been glad had +we all been like them. But there were others who would have had fun with +the tombs of the Egyptian kings, and who could wring smiles from a +graven image. Mr. Daly forfeited at last so recklessly, that either the +brakes had to be put upon our fun or some one would have to do picket +duty. The restless element had a wait of an entire long act in one play, +and among those who waited was a tiny little bit of an old, old man. He +wore rags in his "part," and on the seat of his trousers was an enormous +red patch. He had been asked to stand guard in the greenroom door, and +nothing loath, he only argued deprecatingly: "You'll all get caught, I'm +afraid. You see, Mr. Daly's so sharp, if I cough, he'll hear me, too, +and will understand. If I signal, he'll see me, and we'll all get +forfeited together." + +For a moment we were silently cast down. Then I rose to the occasion +beautifully. I took the wee little man and placed him in the greenroom +doorway, leaning with his back against the door-jamb. When he saw Mr. +Daly in the distance, he simply was to turn his bright red patch +_toward_ us--we would do the rest. + +It was a glorious success. We kept an eye on the picket, and when the +red patch danger signal was shown, silence fell upon the room. Forfeits +ceased for a long time. Of course we paid our watchman for his +services--paid him in pies. He had a depraved passion for bakers' pies, +which he would not cut into portions, because he said it spoiled their +flavour--he preferred working his way through them; and that small grey +face seen near the centre of a mince pie whose rim was closing gently +about his ears was a sight to make a supreme justice smile. + +But our evil course was almost run: our little pie-eater, who was just a +touch odd, or what people call "queer," on Thanksgiving Day permitted +himself to be treated by so many drivers of pie wagons that at night he +was tearful and confused, and though he watched faithfully for the +coming of Mr. Daly, while we laughingly listened to a positively +criminal parody on "The Bells," watched for and saw him in ample time, +he, alas! confusedly turned his red patch the wrong way, and we, every +one, came to grief and forfeiture in consequence. + +Obliging people, generous, ever ready to give a helping hand. Behind the +scenes, then, our social condition, I may say, is one of good-mannered +informality, of jollity tempered by respect and genuine good-fellowship. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVI + +THE ACTRESS AND RELIGION_ + + +Nothing in my autobiography seems to have aroused so much comment, so +much surprise, as my admission that I prayed in moments of great +distress or anxiety, even when in the theatre. + +One man writes that he never knew before that there was such a thing as +a "praying actress." Poor fellow, one can't help feeling there's lots of +other things he doesn't know; and though I wish to break the news as +gently as possible, I have to inform him that I am not a _rara avis_, +that many actresses pray; indeed, the woods are full of us, so to +speak. + +One very old gentleman finds this habit of prayer "commendable and +sweet," but generally there seems to be a feeling of amazement that I +should dare, as it were, to bring the profession of acting to the +attention of our Lord; and yet we are authorized to pray, "Direct us, O +Lord, in _all our doings_, and further us with thy continual help, that +in all our work we may glorify thy holy name." + +It is not the work, but the motive, the spirit that actuates the work; +whether embroidering stoles, sawing wood, washing dishes, or acting, if +it is done honestly, for the glory of the holy name, why may one not +pray for divine help? + +One lady, who, poor soul, should have been born two or three hundred +years ago, when her narrowness would have been more natural, is shocked, +almost indignant; and though she is good enough to say she does not +accuse me of "intentional sacrilege," still, addressing a prayer to God +from a theatre is nothing less in her eyes than profanation. "For," says +she, "you know we must only seek God in His sanctuary, the church." + +Goodness, mercy! in that case some thousands of us would become heathen +if we never found God save inside of a church. + +Does this poor lady not read her Bible, then? Has she not heard the +psalmist's cry: "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there. If I make +my bed in hell, behold, thou art there also; whither shall I flee from +thy presence?" + +Surely, there are a great many places besides the church between heaven +and hell, and even in a theatre we may not flee from His presence. + +But lest the young girl writers should feel abashed over their +expressions of surprise at my conduct, I will show them what good +company they have had. + +A good many years ago a certain famous scholar and preacher of New York +City called upon me one day. I was absent, attending rehearsal. The +creed of his denomination was particularly objectionable to me, but +having wandered into the big stone edifice on Fourth Avenue one Sunday, +I was so charmed by his clear reasoning, his eloquence, and, above all, +by his evident sincerity, that I continued to go there Sunday after +Sunday. + +In my absence he held converse with my mother as to his regret at +missing me, as to the condition of the weather, as to the age, +attainments, and breed of my small dog, who had apparently been seized +with a burning desire to get into his lap. We afterward found she only +wished to rescue her sweet cracker, which he sat upon. + +In his absent-minded way he then fell into a long silence, his handsome, +scholarly head drooping forward. Finally he sighed and remarked:-- + +"She is an actress, your daughter?" + +My mother, with lifted brows, made surprised assent. + +"Yes, yes," he went on gently, "an actress, surely, for I see my paper +commends her work. I have noted her presence in our congregation, and +her intelligence." (I never sleep in the daytime.) "Our ladies like her, +too; m-m, an actress, and yet takes an interest in her soul's salvation; +wonderful! I--I don't understand! no, I don't understand!" A speech +which did little to endear its maker to the actress's mother, I'm +afraid. + +See how narrowing are some creeds. This reverend gentleman was +personally gentle, kind, considerate, and naturally just; yet, knowing +no actor's life, never having seen the inside of a playhouse, he, +without hesitation, denounced the theatre and declared it the gate of +hell. + +In the amusing correspondence that followed that call, the great +preacher was on the defensive from the first, and in reading over two +or three letters that, because of blots or errors, had to be recopied, I +am fairly amazed at the temerity of some of my remarks. In one place I +charge him with "standing upon his closed Bible to lift himself above +sinners, instead of going to them with the open volume and teaching them +to read its precious message." + +Perhaps he forgave much to my youth and passionate sincerity; at all +events, we were friends. I had the benefit of his advice when needed, +and, in spite of our being of different church denominations, he it was +who performed the marriage service for my husband and myself. + +So, girl writers, who question me, you see there have been other pebbles +on my beach, and some big ones, too. + +The question, then, that has been put so many times is, "Can there be +any compatibility between religion and the stage?" + +Now had it been a question of church and stage, I should have been +forced to admit that the exclusive spirit of the first, and the +unending occupation of the second, kept them uncomfortably far apart. +But the question has invariably been as to a compatibility between +religion and the stage. Now I take it that religion means a belief in +God, and the desire and effort to do His will; therefore I see nothing +incompatible between religion and acting. I am a church-woman now; but +for many years circumstances prevented my entering the great army of +Christians who have made public confession of their faith, and received +baptism as an outward and visible sign of a spiritual change. Yet during +those long years without a church I was not without religion. I knew +naught of "justification," of "predestination," of "transubstantiation." +I only knew I must obey the will of God. Here was the Bible; it was the +word of God. There was Christ, beautiful, tender, adorable, and he said: +"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy +soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment; +and the second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as +thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." + +Add to these the old Mosaic "Ten," and you have my religious creed +complete. And though it is simple enough for a child to comprehend, it +is difficult for the wisest to give perfect obedience, because it is not +always easy to love that tormenting neighbour, even a little bit, let +alone as well as oneself. How I wish there was some other word to take +the place of "religion." It has been so abused, so misconstrued. +Thousands of people shrink from the very sound of it, believing that to +be religious means the solemn, sour-faced setting of one foot before the +other in a hard and narrow way--the shutting out of all beauty, the +cutting off of all enjoyment. Oh, the pity! the pity! Can't they read? + +"Let all those that seek thee be joyful and glad in thee, and let such +as love thee and thy salvation say always, The Lord be praised." Again, +"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." But it is not always in giving alone +that He loves cheerfulness. Real love and trust in God--which is +religion, mind you--makes the heart feather light, opens the eye to +beauty, the heart to sympathy, the ear to harmony, and all the merriment +and joy of life is but the sweeter for the reverent gratitude one +returns to the Divine Giver. + +One evening, in a greenroom chatter, the word "religious" had in some +way been applied to me, and a certain actress of "small parts," whose +life had been of the bitterness of gall, suddenly broke out with: +"What--what's that? religious--you? Well, I guess not! Why, you've more +spirits in a minute than the rest of us have in a week, and you are as +full of capers as a puppy. I guess I know religion when I see it. It +makes children loathe the Bible by forcing them to learn a hundred of +its verses for punishment. It pulls down the shades on Sundays, eats +cold meat and pickles, locks up bookcase and piano, and discharges the +girl for walking with her beau. Oh, no! my dear, you're not religious." + +Poor abused word; no wonder it terrifies people. + +How many thousand women, I wonder, are kept from church by their +inability to dress up to the standard of extravagance raised by those +who are more wealthy than thoughtful. Even if the poor woman plucks up +her courage and enters the church, the magnificence of her fortunate +sisters distracts her attention from the service, and fills her with +longing, too often with envy, and surely with humiliation. + +Some years ago a party of ultra-high churchwomen decided to wear only +black during Lent. One of these ladies condescended to know me, and in +speaking of the matter, she said: "Oh, I think this black garb is more +than a fad, it really operates for good. It is so appropriate, you know, +and--and a constant reminder of that first great fast--the origin of +Lent; and as I walk about in trailing black, I know I look devout, and +that makes me feel devout, and so I pray often, and you're always the +better for praying, even if your dress is at the bottom of it--and, oh, +well, I feel that I am in the picture, when I wear black during Lent." + +But the important thing is that before the Lenten season was half over, +female New York was walking the streets in gentle, black-robed dignity, +and evidently enjoying the keeping of Lent because, to use a theatrical +expression, "it knew it looked the part." + +So much influence do these petted, beloved daughters of the rich +exercise over the many, that I have often wished that, for the sake of +the poorer women, the wealthy ones would set a fashion of extreme +simplicity of costume for church-going. Every female thing has an +inalienable right to make herself as lovely as possible; and these +graceful, clever women of fashion would know as well how to make +simplicity charming as does the _grande dame_ of France, who is never +more _grande dame_ than when, in plain little bonnet, simple gown, and a +bit of a fichu, she attends her church. + +These bright butterflies have all the long week to flutter their +magnificence in. Their lunches, dinners, teas, dances, games, yachts, +links, race-courses--everyone gives occasion for glorious display. Will +they not, then, be sweetly demure on Sunday for the sake of the +"picture," spare their sisters the agony of craving for like beautiful +apparel? for God has made them so, and they can't help wanting to be +lovely, too. + +Perhaps some day a woman of fashion, simply clad, will turn up her +pretty nose contemptuously at splendour of dress at church service, and +whisper, "What bad form!" + +Then, indeed, as the tide sets her way, she will realize her power, and +the church will have many more attendants. The very poor woman will not +be so cruelly humiliated, and the wage-earning girl, who puts so much of +her money into finery, will have a more artistic and more suitable model +to follow. + +And you are beginning to think that free silver is not the only mad idea +that has been put forward by a seemingly sane person. Ah, well, it's +sixteen to one, you know, that this is both first and last of the church +dress-reform. + +To those two little maids who so anxiously inquire "if I believe prayer +is of any real service, and why, since my own could not always have been +answered," I can only say, they being in a minority, I have no authority +to answer their question here. Perhaps, though, they may recall the fact +that their loving mothers tenderly refused some of their most passionate +demands in babyhood. And we are yet but children, who often pray +improperly to our Father. + + + + +_CHAPTER XVII + +A DAILY UNPLEASANTNESS_ + + +What is the most unpleasant experience in the daily life of a young +actress? + +Without pause for thought, and most emphatically too, I answer, her +passing unattended through the city streets at night; that is made +unalloyed misery, through terror and humiliation. The backwoods girl +makes her lonely way through the forest by blazed trees, but the way of +the lonely girl through the city streets is marked by blazing blushes. + +It is an infamy that a girl's honesty should not protect her by night as +well as by day. Those hideous hyenas of the midnight streets are never +deceived. By one glance they can distinguish between a good woman and +those poor wandering ghosts of dead modesty and honour, who flit +restlessly back and forth from alleys dark to bright gas glare; but +bring one of these men to book, and he will declare that "decent women +have no right to be in the streets after nightfall," as though citizens +were to maintain public highways for the sole use one-half the time of +all the evil things that hide from light to creep out at dark and meet +those companions who are fair by day and foul by night. + +Some girls never learn to face the homeward walk with steady nerves, +others grow used to the swift approach, the rapidly spoken word, and +receive them with set, stony face and deaf ears; but oh, the terror and +the shame of it at first! And this horror of the night takes so many +forms that it is hard to say which one is the most revolting--hard to +decide between the vile innuendo whispered by a sober brute or the +roared ribaldry of a drunken beast. + +In one respect I differ from most of my companions in misery, since +they almost invariably fear most the drunkard; while I ground my greater +fear of the sober man upon the simple fact that I can't outrun him as I +can a drunken one, at a pinch. One night, in returning home from a +performance of "Divorce,"--a very long play that brought me into the +street extra late,--a shrieking man flew across my path, and as a second +rushed after him with knife uplifted for a killing blow, his foot caught +in mine, and as he pitched forward the knife sank into his victim's arm +instead of his back as he had intended; and with the cries of "Murder! +Police!" ringing in my ears, I ran as if I were the murderess. These +things are in themselves a pretty high price to pay for being an +actress. + +I had a friend, an ancient lady, a relative of one of our greatest +actors, who, for independence' sake, taught music in her old age. One +night she had played at a concert and was returning home. Tall and +slight and heavily veiled, she walked alone. Then suddenly appeared a +well-looking young son of Belial, undoubtedly a gentleman by daylight. +He tipped his hat and twirled his mustache; she turned away her head. He +cleared his throat; she seemed quite deaf. He spoke; he called her +"girlie" (the scamp!). She walked the faster; so did he. He protested +she should not walk home alone; she stopped; she spoke, "Will you please +allow me to walk home in peace?" + +But, no, that was just what he would not do, and suddenly she answered, +"Very well, then, I accept your escort, though under protest." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "Evadne"_] + +Surprised, he walked at her side. The way was long, the silence grew +painful. He ventured to suggest supper as they passed a restaurant; she +gently declined. At last she stopped directly beneath a gas-lamp, and +from her face, with sorrow-hollowed eyes and temples, where everyone of +her seventy-six years had been stamped in cruel line and crease and +wrinkle, she lifted up the veil and raised her sad old eyes +reproachfully to his. He staggered back, turned red, turned white, +stammered, took off his hat, attempted to apologize, then turned and +fled. + +"And what," I asked, "did you say to him?" + +"Say, say," she repeated; "justice need not be cruel. Why add anything +to the sight of this?" and she drew a finger down her withered cheek. + +'Twas said with laughing bitterness, for she had been very fair, and +well guarded, too, in the distant past; while then I could but catch her +tired hands and kiss them, in a burst of pity that this ancient +gentlewoman might not walk in peace through the city streets because +fate had left her without a protector. + +Appeal to the police, I think some one says. Of course, if he is about; +but recall that famous old recipe of Mrs. Glass beginning, "First catch +your hare and then--" so, just catch your policeman. But believe me, +they rarely appear together,--your tormentor of women and your +policeman,--unless, indeed, the former is stupidly in liquor; and then +what good if he is arrested? shame will prevent you from appearing +against him. Silence and speed, therefore, are generally the best +defensive weapons of the frightened, lonely girl. + +Once through fright, fatigue, and shame I lost all self-control, and +turning to the creature whom I could not outwalk, I cried out with a +sob, "Oh, I am so tired, so frightened, and so ashamed; you make me wish +that I were dead!" And to my amazement, he answered gruffly, "It's a +pity _I'm_ not," and disappeared in the dark side street. + +After an actress has married and has a protector to see her safely home +nights, she is apt to recall and to tell amusing stories of her past +experiences; but I notice those tales are never told by the girls--they +only become funny when looked at from the point of perfect safety, +though like everything else in the world, the dreaded midnight walk +shows a touch of the ludicrous now and then. + +I recall one snowy January night when I was returning home. It was on a +Saturday, and I had played a five-act play twice with but a sandwich for +my dinner, the weather forbidding my going home after the matinee. So +being without change to ride with, hungry and unutterably weary, I +started, bag in hand, to walk up Sixth Avenue. On the east side stood a +certain club house (it stands there yet, by the way), whose peculiar +feature was a vine-hung veranda across its entire front, from which an +unusually long flight of steps led to the sidewalk. Quite unmolested, I +had walked from the stage door almost to this building, when suddenly, +as if he had sprung from the very earth, a man was at my elbow +addressing me, and the fact that he was not English, and so not +understood, did not in the slightest degree lessen the terror his evil +face inspired. I shrank away from him, and he caught at my wrist. It was +too much. I gave a cry and started to run, when, tall and broad, a man +appeared at the foot of the club-house steps, just ahead of me. Ashamed +to be seen running, I halted, and dropped into a walk again. + +Then with that exaggerated straightening of back and stiffening of knee +adopted by one who tries to walk a floor-crack or chalk-line, the second +man approached me. He was very big, he was silvery grey, and his dignity +was portentous. At every step he struck the pavement a ringing blow with +a splendid malacca cane. Old-fashioned and gold-headed, it looked enough +like its owner to have been his twin brother. He lifted his high silk +hat, and with somewhat florid indignation inquired: "My c-hild, was that +in-nfamous cur annoying you shust now? A-a-h!" he broke off, +flourishing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had +hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted +away, across and down the avenue. + +"An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered +unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you +see at this moment, pray, eh? And, by the way, m' child, what in the +devil's name brings yer on the street alone at this hour, say, tell me +that?" and he assumed a most judicial attitude and manner. + +I replied, "I am going home from my work, sir." + +"Y-your w-what?" he growled. + +"My work, sir, at the theatre." + +"Good Lord!" he groaned, "and t-that crawlin' r-reptile couldn't let you +pass, you poor little soul, you!" + +Upon my word, I thought he was going to weep over me. Next moment he +turned his collar up with a violence that nearly upset him, and +exclaimed: "D-don't you be a-fraid. I'll see you safely home. G-go by +yourself? not much you won't! I'll take you to your mother. S-say, +you've got a mother, haven't you? Yes, that's right; every girl's worth +anythin's got a mother. I-I'll take you to her, sure; receive maternal +thanks, a-and all that. Oh, say, boys! look here!" he shouted, and +holding out the big cane in front of me to prevent my passing, he called +to him two other men, who slowly and with almost superhuman caution were +negotiating the snowy steps. + +"Say, Colonel! Judge! come here and help me p-pr'tect this un-fortunate +child." The Judge at that moment sat heavily and unintentionally down on +the bottom step, and the Colonel remarked pleasantly, though a trifle +vaguely, "T-that's the time he hit it"; while the fallen man asked +calmly from his snowy seat, "P-pr-protect what--f-from who?" + +"This poor ch-i-ld from raging beasts and in-famous scoundrels, Judge," +remarked my bombastic friend. + +"We're gentlemen, my dear; and say, get the Judge up, Colonel, and start +him, and we'll _all_ see her safe home. Damn shame, a la-dy can't walk +in safety, w-without 'er body of able-bodied cit-zens to protect her! +Com'er long, now, child." And he grasped my arm and pushed me gently +forward. + +The Colonel tipped his hat over one eye, gave a military salute, and +wavered back and forth. The Judge muttered something about "Honest woman +against city of New York," and something "and costs," and both fell to +the rear. + +And thus escorted by all these intoxicated old gallants, I made my +mortified way up the avenue, they wobbling and sliding and stammering, +and he who held my arm, I distinctly remember, recited Byron to me, and +told me many times that the Judge was "a p-perfect gentleman, and so was +his wife." + +This startling statement was delivered just as we reached Thirty-second +Street. Like an eel I slipped from his grasp, and whirling about, I said +as rapidly as I could speak, "I'm almost home now. I can see the light +from here, and I can't take you any farther out of your way," and I +darted down the darker street. + +Looking back from my own stoop, I saw the three kindly old sinners +making salutations at the corner. My bombastic friend and the Judge had +their hats off, waving them, and the Colonel saluted with such rigid +propriety, it seems a pity that he was facing the wrong way. + +I laugh, oh, yes, I laugh at the memory, until I think how silvery were +these three wine-muddled old heads, and then I feel "the pity, oh, the +pity of it!" + + + + +_CHAPTER XVIII + +A BELATED WEDDING_ + + +It was in a city in the far West that this small incident took place--a +city of the mountains still so young that some of its stateliest +business buildings of stone or marble, with plate-glass, fine furniture, +and electric lighting, were neighboured not merely by shanties, but +actually by tents. + +But though high up in the mountains, the young city was neither too far +nor too high for vice to reach it; and so it came about that a certain +woman, whose gold-bought smiles had become a trifle too mocking and +satirical to be attractive, had come to the young city and placed +herself at the head of an establishment where, at command, every one +from sunset laughed and was merry, and held out hungry, grasping little +hands for the gold showered upon them--laughed, with weary, pain-filled +eyes--laughed, with stiff, tired lips sometimes--but still laughed till +sunrise--and then, well, who cared what they did _then_? + +And this woman had waxed rich, and owned valuable property and much +mining stock, and was generous to those who were down on their luck, and +was quick with her revolver--as the man who tried to hold her up on a +lonely road found out to his sorrow. + +Now to this city there came a certain actress, and the papers and the +theatre bills announced a performance of the old French play of +"Camille." The wealthy Madame Elize, as she styled herself, had heard +and read much of both actress and play, and knew that it was almost a +nightly occurrence for men to shed tears over two of the scenes, while +women wept deliciously through the whole play. + +She determined that she would go to that performance, though the manager +assured the public, in large letters, that no one of her order could +possibly be admitted. And she declared "that she could sit out that or +any other play without tears. That no amount of play-acting could move +her, unless it was to laughter." + +And so the night came, and the best seat in the best box in all that +crowded theatre was occupied by a woman of forty-five, who looked about +thirty-eight, who, but for the fixed, immovable colour in her cheeks and +her somewhat too large and too numerous diamonds, might from her black +silk, rich dark furs, and her dignified bearing have passed for an +honest woman. + +She watched the first act with a somewhat supercilious manner, but the +second act found her wiping her eyes--very cautiously; there was that +unvarying colour to think of. The third act found her well back in the +shadow of the box curtain, and the last act she watched with a face of +such fixed determination as to attract the wondering comment of several +of the actors. + +When the curtain fell, one of them remarked, "I'd like to know what that +woman will do in the next few hours?" + +This is what she did. Keeping back till the house was nearly empty, she +left the theatre alone. Then she engaged a carriage--of which there were +very, very few in that city of the mountains, where the people did most +of their going and coming on horseback--and had herself conveyed to her +home, ablaze with light and full of laughter; and bidding the driver +wait, she entered quietly and went swiftly to her own apartment, where a +man in slippers and dressing-gown sat in a big armchair, sleeping over +the evening paper. + +She lost no time, but aroused him at once, shaking him by the shoulder, +and in cold, curt tones ordered him "to rise and dress for the street, +and to go with her." + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris in the 1st Act of "Camille"_] + +But he objected, asking: "Why the deuce he should go out that bitter +night? And was she a fool, or did she take him for one?" + +Upon which she had so savagely ordered him "to get on his boots, his +coat, and overcoat" that the sleepiness had vanished from his sharp +eyes, and he had exclaimed, "What is it, Kate? what's happened to you?" + +And she answered: "I've had a blow--no, don't reach for your gun. I +don't mean that--but, Jim, it hurts. (Here, let me tie that for you.) +I've had a blow straight at the heart, and a woman gave it--God bless +her! (Can't you brush your hair up over that thin place? Jim--why, Jim, +upon my soul, you're grey!) Oh, hurry! here, take your fur coat--you'll +need it. Come now--no, I won't tell till we're outside this house. +Come--on the quiet, now--come," and taking him by the arm she dragged +him down the hall and stairs, and so outside the front door. + +There she stopped. The man shivered at the cold, but kept his gleaming +eyes fastened on her white face, "Well?" he said. + +She stood looking up at the glory of the sky above her, where the stars +glittered with extraordinary brilliancy, and in an abstracted tone she +observed, "There's the 'Dipper.'" + +He watched her still silently; she went on: "Do you remember, Jim, when +I taught school down in Westbury, how we used to look at the 'Dipper' +together, because you didn't dare speak--of anything else? You got seven +dollars a week, then, and I--oh, Jim! why in God's name _didn't_ you +speak? Then I might never have come to this." She struck the lintel of +the door passionately, but went right on: "Yes--yes, I'm going to tell +you, and you've got to make a decision, right here, _now_! You'll think +I'm mad, I know; but see here now, I've got that woman's dying eyes +looking into mine; I've got that woman's voice in my ears, and her words +burnt into my living heart! I'll tell you by and by, perhaps, what +those words are, but first, my proposal: you are free to accept it, you +are free to refuse it, or you are free to curse me for a drivelling +idiot; but look you here, man, if you _laugh_ at it, I swear I'll _kill_ +you! Now, will you help me out of this awful life? Jim, will you get +into that carriage and take me to the nearest minister and marry me, or +will you take this 'wad' and go down that street and out of my life +forever?" + +In the pause that followed they looked hard into one another's eyes. +Then the man answered in six words. Pushing away the hand that offered +him a great tight-rolled mass of paper money, he said, "Put that +away--now, come on," and they entered the carriage, and drove to the +home of a minister. There a curious thing happened. They had answered +satisfactorily the reverend gentleman's many questions before he quite +realized _who_ the woman was. When he did recognize her, he refused to +perform the ceremony, and with words of contemptuous condemnation +literally drove them from the house, and with his ecclesiastical hand +banged the door after them. + +They visited another minister, and their second experience differed from +their first in two points,--the gentleman was quicker in his recognition +and refusal, and refrained from banging the door. And so they drove up +and down and across the city, till at last they stood at the carriage +door and looked helpless at each other. Then the man said, "That's the +last one, Kate," and the woman answered, "Yes, I know--I know." She drew +a long, hard breath that was not far from a sob, and added, "Yes, +they've downed me; but it wasn't a fair game, Jim, for they've played +with marked cards." + +She had entered the carriage when the driver with the all-pervading +knowledge and unlimited assurance of the Western hackman remarked +genially: "Madame Elize, there's another gospel-sharp out on the edge of +the town. He's poorer than Job's turkey, and his whole dorgon'd little +scantlin' church ain't bigger than one of them Saratogy trunks, but his +people just swear by him. Shall I take you out there?" + +Madame Elize nodded an assent, and once more they started. It was a long +drive. The horses strained up killing grades, sending out on the cold +air columns of steam from their dilating nostrils. The driver beat first +one hand and then the other upon his knees, and talked amicably if +profanely to his horses; but inside the carriage there was utter +silence. + +At last they stopped before a poor, cold-looking little cottage, and +entering made their wishes known to a blue-eyed, tall young man, with +thin, sensitive lips, who listened with grave attention. He knew +precisely who and what she was, and very gently told her he would have +to ask one unpleasant question, "Was the man at her side acquainted with +her past, or was he a stranger who was being deceived--victimized, in +fact?" + +And Kate, with shining eyes, turned and said: "Tell him, Jim, how for +six honest, innocent years we were friends. Then tell him how for +fifteen years we've been partners in life. Tell him whether you know me, +Jim, or whether you're victimized." + +And then the young minister had told them he was proud and thankful to +clasp their hands and start them on their new path, with God's blessing +on them. And they were married at last; and as they drove away, they +noted the strange outlines of the mountains, where they reared their +stupendous bulk against the star-sown sky. A sense of awe came upon +them--of smallness, of helplessness. Instinctively they clasped hands, +and presently the woman said: "Oh, Jim, the comfort of a wedding ring! +It circles us about so closely, and keeps out all the rest of the +world." + +And Jim stooped his head and kissed her. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIX + +SALVINI AS MAN AND ACTOR_ + + +It is not often, I fancy, that one defends one's hero or friend from +himself. Yet that about describes what I am doing now for the famous +Salvini. An acquaintance of mine, a man self-contained and dignified, +who was reading the other day, startled me by muttering aloud, "Oh, that +mine enemy would write a book!" and a moment later, flinging the volume +from him, he cried: "Where were his friends? Why did they permit him to +write of himself?" + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed in bewilderment, "where were whose friends? +Of whom are you speaking, and why are you so excited?" + +"Oh," he answered impatiently, "it's the disappointment! I judged the +man by his splendid work; but look at that book--the personal pronoun +forms one solid third of it. I know it does!" and he handed me the +volume in question. + +"Well," I said, as I glanced at the title,--"Autobiography of Tommaso +Salvini,"--"no matter what the book may say, Tommaso Salvini is a mighty +actor." And then I began to read. At first I was a bit taken aback. I +had thought Mr. Macready considered himself pretty favourably, had made +a heavy demand on the I's and my's in his book; but the bouquets he +presented to himself were modest little nosegays when compared with the +gorgeous floral set pieces provided _ad libitum_ for "Signor Salvini" by +Signor Salvini. + +Then presently I began to smile at the open honesty of this +self-appreciation, at the naive admiration he expresses for his figure, +his voice, his power. "After all," I said, "when the whole civilized +world has for years and years affirmed and reaffirmed that he is the +greatest actor living, is it strange that he should come to believe the +world?" + +"But," growled my friend, "why could he not be content with the world's +statement? Why had he no reticence? Look at these declarations: that no +words can describe his power, that everybody wished to know him, that +everybody wished to claim his friendship, that everybody made it his +boast to be seen in his company, etc." + +"Well," I answered, "you certainly cannot doubt the truth of the +assertions. I believe every one of them. You see, you are not making any +allowance for temperament or early environment. Those who are humbly +born in a kingdom are lifted by a monarch's praise to the very pinnacle +of pride and joy and superiority. Think of the compliments paid this man +by royalty. Think, too, of his hot blood, his quick imagination. You +can't expect calm self-restraint from him; and just let me tell you, +for your comfort, that this 'book Salvini' is utterly unlike the kindly +gentleman who is the real, everyday Salvini." + +My friend looked at me a moment, then shaking hands he added gravely: +"Thank you. The great actor goes upon his pedestal again, to my own +satisfaction; but--but--don't think I care for this book. I'll wait till +some one else tells of his triumphs and his gifts," and laying it upon +the table he took his departure. + +It is astonishing what a misleading portrait Signor Salvini has drawn of +himself. I worked with him, and I found him a gentleman of modest, even +retiring, disposition and most courtly manners. He was remarkably +patient at the long rehearsals which were so trying to him because his +company spoke a language he could not understand. + +The love of acting and the love of saving were veritable passions with +him, and many were the amusing stories told of his economies; but, in +spite of his personal frugality, he was generous in the extreme to his +dear ones. + +When I had got over my first amazement at receiving a proposal to act +with the great Italian, Mr. Chizzola, his manager, stated terms, and +hastened to say that a way had been found by which the two names could +be presented without either taking preference of the other on the bill, +and that the type would of course be the same in both--questions I +should never have given a thought to, but over which my manager stood +ready to shed his heart's blood. And when I said that I should willingly +have gone on the bills as "supporting Signor Salvini," I thought he was +going to rend his garments, and he indignantly declared that such talk +was nothing less than heresy when coming from a securely established +star. + +At one of our rehearsals for the "Morte Civile," a small incident +occurred that will show how gracious Signor Salvini could be. Most +stars, having the "business" of their play once settled upon, seem to +think it veritable sacrilege to alter it, no matter how good the reason +for an alteration; and a suggestion offered to a star is generally +considered an impertinence. In studying my part of Rosalia, the +convict's wife, a very pretty bit of "business" occurred to my mind. I +was to wear the black cross so commonly seen on the breast of the Roman +peasant women, and once at an outbreak of Conrad's, I thought if I +raised that cross without speaking, and he drooped before it, it would +be effective and quite appropriate, as he was supposed to be +superstitiously devout. I mentioned it to young Salvini, who cried +eagerly, "Did you tell my father--did he see it?" + +"Good heavens!" I answered, "do you suppose I would presume to suggest +'business' to a Salvini? Besides, could anything new be found for him in +a play he has acted for twenty years? No, I have not told your father, +nor do I intend to take such a liberty." + +But next morning, when we came to that scene, Signor Salvini held up +his hand for a halt in the rehearsal, called for Alessandro, and, +bidding him act as interpreter, said, smiling pleasantly, to me, "Now +zee i-dee please you, madame?" for young Alessandro had betrayed my +confidence. There was a mocking sparkle in Salvini's blue eyes, but he +was politely ready to hear and reject "zee i-dee." I felt hot and +embarrassed, but I stood by my guns, and placing Alessandro in the +chair, I made him represent Conrad; and when he came to the furious +outburst, I swiftly lifted the cross and held it before his eyes till +his head sank upon my breast. But in a twinkling, with the cry, "No--no! +I show!" Salvini plucked Alessandro out of the seat, flung himself into +it, resumed the scene, and as I lifted the cross before his convulsed +features, his breath halted, slowly he lifted his face, when, divining +his meaning, I pressed the cross gently upon his trembling lips, and +with a sob his head fell weakly upon my breast. It was beautifully done; +even the actors were moved. Then he spoke rapidly to his son, who +translated to me thus: "How have I missed this 'business' all these +years? It is good--we will keep it always--tell madame that." And so, +courteously and without offence, this greatest of actors accepted a +suggestion from a newcomer in his play. + +A certain English actor, who had been with him two or three seasons, +made a curious little mistake night after night, season after season, +and no one seemed to heed it. Of course Salvini, not speaking English, +could not be expected to detect the error. Where the venomous priest +should humbly bow himself out with the veiled threat, "This may yet end +in a trial--and--conviction!" the actor invariably said, "This may yet +end in a trial of convictions!" Barely three nights had passed when +Signor Salvini said to his son, "Why does Miss Morris smile at that +man's exit? It is not funny. Ask why she smiles." And he was greatly put +out with his actor when he learned the cause of my amusement. A very +observant man, you see. + +He is a thinking actor; he knows _why_ he does a thing, and he used to +be very intolerant of some of the old-school "tricks of the trade." +Mind, when I was acting with him, he had come to understand fairly well +the English of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary, and if he was quite +calm and not on exhibition in any way, he could speak it a little and +quite to the point, as you will see. He particularly disliked the old, +old trick called "taking the stage," that is, when a good speech has +been made, the actor at its end crosses the stage, changing his position +for no reason on earth save to add to his own importance. It seemed +Salvini had tried through his stage manager to break up the wretched +habit; but one morning he saw an actor end his speech at the centre of +the stage, and march in front of every one to the extreme right-hand +corner. A curl came to the great actor's lip, then he said inquiringly, +"What for?" The actor stammered, "I--I--it's my cross, you know--the end +of my speech."--"Y-e-es," sweetly acquiesced the star. "Y-e-es, you +cross, I see--but what for?" The actor hesitated. "You do _so_," went on +Salvini, giving a merciless imitation of the swelling chest and stage +stride of the guilty one, as he had crossed from centre down to extreme +right. "You do so--but for _why_? A-a-ah!" Suddenly he seemed to catch +an idea. "A-a-ah! is it that you have zee business with zee people in +zee box? A-a-ah! you come spik to zose people? No? Not for that you +come? You have _no_ reason for come here, you say? Then, for God's sake, +stay centre till you _have_ a reason!" + +It was an awful lesson, but what delicious acting. The simple, earnest +inquiry, the delighted catching at an idea, the following +disappointment, and the final outburst of indignant authority--he never +did anything better for the public. + +During the short time we acted together but one cloud, a tiny, tiny one +of misunderstanding, rose between us, but according to reports made by +lookers-on a good deal of lightning came out of it. Of course not +understanding each other's language, we had each to watch the other as a +cat would watch a mouse, in order to take our cues correctly. At one +point I took for mine his sudden pause in a rapidly delivered speech, +and at that pause I was to speak instantly. We got along remarkably +well, for his soul was in his work, and I gave every spark of +intelligence I had in me to the effort to satisfy him; so by the fifth +or sixth performance we both felt less anxiety about the catching of our +cues than we had at first. On the night I speak of, some one on +Salvini's side of the stage greatly disturbed him by loud whispering in +the entrance. He was nervous and excitable, the annoyance (of which I +was unconscious) threw him out of his stride, so to speak. He glanced +off warningly and snapped his fingers. No use; on went the giggling and +whispering. At last, in the very middle of a speech, wrath overcame him. +He stopped dead. That sudden stop was my cue. Instantly I spoke. Good +heaven! he whirled upon me like a demon. I understood that a mistake had +been made, but it was not mine. I knew my cue when I got it. The humble +Rosalia was forgotten. With hot resentment my head went up and back with +a fling, and I glared savagely back at him. A moment we stood in silent +rage. Then his face softened, he laid the fingers of his left hand on +his lips, extending his right with that unspeakably deprecating +upturning of the palm known only to the foreign-born. An informing +glance of the eye toward the right, followed by a faint "_Pardon_!" was +enough. I dropped back to meek Rosalia, the scene was resumed, the cloud +had passed. But one man who had been looking on said: "By Jove! you +know, you two looked like a pair of blue-eyed devils, just ready to rend +each other. Talk about black-eyed rage; it's the lightning of the blue +eyes that sears every time." + +I had been quite wild to see Signor Salvini on his first visit to +America, and at last I caught up with him in Chicago, and was so happy +as to find my opportunity in an extra matinee. The play was "Othello," +and during the first act he looked not only a veritable Moor, but, what +was far greater, he seemed to be Shakespeare's own "Moor of Venice." The +splendid presence, the bluff, soldierly manner, the open, honest look, +as the "round unvarnished tale" was delivered, made one understand, +partly at least, how "that maiden never bold, a spirit so still and +quiet," had come at last to see "_Othello's_ visage _in his mind_, and +to his honour and his valiant parts to consecrate her fortune and her +soul!" Through all the noble scene, through all the soldierly dignity +and candid speech, there was that tang of roughness that so naturally +clung to the man whose life from his seventh year had been passed in +the "tented field," and who himself declared, "Rude am I in speech, and +little bless'd with the set phrase of peace." + +In short, Salvini was a delight to eye and ear, and satisfied both +imagination and judgment in that first act. Like many people who are +much alone, I have the habit of speaking sometimes to myself--a habit I +repented of that day, yes, verily I did; for when, at Cyprus, Othello +entered and fiercely swept into his swarthy arms the pale loveliness of +Desdemona, 'twas like a tiger's spring upon a lamb. The bluff and honest +soldier, the English Shakespeare's Othello, was lost in an Italian +Othello. Passion choked, his gloating eyes burned with the mere lust of +the "sooty Moor" for that white creature of Venice. It was revolting, +and with a shiver I exclaimed aloud, "Ugh, you splendid brute!" +Realizing my fault, I drew quickly back into the shadow of the curtain; +but a man's rough voice had answered instantly, "Make it a _beast_, +ma'am, and I'm with you!" I was cruelly mortified. + +[Illustration: _Tommaso Salvini_] + +But there was worse to happen that day. The leading lady, Signora +Piamonti, an admirable actress, was the Desdemona. She played the part +remarkably well, and was a fairly attractive figure to the eye, if one +excepted her foot. It was exceptionally long and shapeless, and was most +vilely shod. Her dresses, too, all tipped up in the front, unduly +exposing the faulty members; many were the comments made, and often the +query followed, "Why doesn't she get some American shoes?" I am sorry to +say that some of our daily papers even were ungracious enough to refer +to that physical defect, when only her work should have been considered +and criticised. + +The actors had reached the last act. The bed stood in the centre of a +shallow alcove, heavily curtained. These hangings were looped up at the +beginning of the act, and were supposed to fall to the floor, completely +concealing the bed and its occupant after the murder. The actor had +long before become again Shakespeare's Othello. We had seen him +tortured, racked, and played upon by the malignant Iago; seen him, while +perplexed in the extreme, irascible, choleric, sullen, morose; but now, +as with tense nerves we waited for the catastrophe, he was truly +formidable. The great tragedy moved on. Desdemona's piteous entreaties +had been choked in her slim throat, the smothering pillow held in place +with merciless strength. Then at Emilia's disconcerting knock and demand +for admission, Othello had let down and closely drawn the two curtains. +But alas and alack a day! though they were thick and rich and wide, they +failed to reach the floor by a good foot's breadth--a fact unnoticed by +the star. You may not be an actor; but really when you add to that +twelve or fourteen-inch space the steep incline of the stage--why, you +can readily understand how advisable it was for the dead Desdemona that +day to stay dead until the play was over. + +Majestically Othello was striding down to the door, where Emilia was +knocking for admittance, when there came that long in-drawn breath--that +"a-a-h!" that from the auditorium always means mischief--and a sudden +bobbing of heads this way and that in the front seats. In an instant the +great actor felt the broken spell, knew he had lost his hold upon the +people--but why? He went on steadily, and then, just as you have seen a +field of wheat surged in one wave by the wind, I saw the closely packed +people in that wide parquet sway forward in a great gust of laughter. +With quick, experienced eye I scanned first Othello's garb from top to +toe, and finding no unseemly rent or flaw of any kind to provoke +laughter, I next swept the stage. Coming to the close-drawn curtains, I +saw--heavens! No wonder the people laughed. The murdered Desdemona had +risen, was evidently sitting on the side of the bed; for beneath the +curtains her dangling feet alone were plainly seen, kicking cheerfully +back and forth. Such utterly unconscious feet they were that I think the +audience would not have laughed again had they kept still; but all at +once they began a "heel-and-toe step," and people rocked back and forth, +trying to suppress their merriment. And then--oh, Piamonti!--swiftly the +toe of the right foot went to the back of the left ankle and scratched +vigorously. Restraint was ended, every one let go and laughed and +laughed. From the box I saw in the entrance the outspread fingers, the +hoisted shoulders, the despairingly shaken heads of the Italian actors, +who could find no cause for the uproar. Salvini behaved perfectly in +that, disturbed, distressed, he showed no sign of anger, but maintained +his dignity through all, even when in withdrawing the curtains and +disclosing Desdemona dead once more the incomprehensible laughter again +broke out. But late as it was and short the time left him, he got the +house in hand again, again wove his charm, and sent the people away sick +and shuddering over his too real self-murder. + +As I was leaving the box I met one connected with the management of the +theatre, who, furious over the _faux pas_, was roughly denouncing the +actress, whom he blamed entirely, and I took it upon myself to suggest +that he pour a vial or two of his wrath upon the heads of his own +property man and the stage manager, who had grossly neglected their duty +in failing to provide curtains of the proper length. And I chuckled with +satisfaction as I saw him plunge behind the scenes, calling angrily upon +some invisible Jim to come forth. I had acted as a sort of lightning-rod +for a sister actress. + +Salvini's relations with his son were charming, though it sounded a bit +odd to hear the stalwart young man calling him "papa." Alessandro had +dark eyes and black hair, so naturally admired the opposite colouring, +and I never heard him speak of his father's English second wife without +some reference to her fairness. It would be "my blond mamma," "my little +fair mamma," "my father's pretty English wife," or "before my little +blond mamma died." He felt the "mamma" and "papa" jarred on American +ears, and often corrected himself; but when Signor Salvini himself once +told me a story of his father, he referred to him constantly as "my +papa," just as he does in this book of his that makes him seem so +egotistical and so determined to find at all costs the vulnerable spot, +the weak joint in the armour, of all other actors. + +Certainly he could not have been an egotist in the bosom of his family. +A friend in London went to call upon his young wife, his "white lily." +She was showing the house to her visitor, when, pausing suddenly before +a large portrait of her famous husband, she became silent, her uplifted +eyes filled, her lips smiled tremulously, she gave a little gasp, and +whispered, "Oh, he's almost like God to me!" + +The friend, startled, even shocked, was about to reprove her, but a +glance into the innocent face showed no sacrilege had been meant, only +she had never been honoured, protected, happy, before--and some women +worship where they love. Could an egotist win and keep such affection +and gratitude as that? + +Among those who complain of his opinionated book I am amused to find one +who fairly exhausted himself in praise, not to say flattery, of this +same Salvini. It is very diverting to the mere looker-on, when the world +first proclaims some man a god, bowing down and worshipping him, and +then anathematizes him if he ventures to proclaim his own godship. I +have my quarrel with the book, I confess it. I am sorry he does not show +how he did his tremendous work, show the nature of those sacrifices he +made. How one would enjoy a word-picture of the place where he obtained +his humble meals in those earliest days of struggle; who shared them, +and in what spirit they were discussed, grave or gay! Italian life is +apt to be picturesque, and these minor circumstances mean much when one +tries to get at the daily life of a man. But Salvini has given us merely +splendid results, without showing us _how_ he obtained them. Yet what a +lesson the telling would have been for some of our indolent actors! Why, +even at the zenith of his career, Salvini attended personally to duties +most actors leave to their dressers. He used to be in his dressing-room +hours before the overture was on, and in an ancient gown he would polish +his armour, his precious weapons or ornaments, arrange his wigs, examine +every article of dress he would require that night, and consequently he +never had mishaps. He used to say: "The man there? Oh, yes, he can pack +and lock and strap and check, but only an actor can understand the care +of these artistic things. What I do myself is well done; this work is +part of my profession; there is no shame in doing it. And all the time I +work, I think--I think of the part--till I have all forgot--_all_ but +just that part's self." + +And yet, O dear, these are the things he does not put in his book. When +he was all dressed and ready for the performance, Salvini would go into +a dark place and walk and walk and walk; sometimes droopingly, sometimes +with martial tread. Once, I said, "You walk far, signor?" + +"_Si, signorina_," he made answer, then eagerly, "_I walk me into him!_" +And while the great man was "walking into the character," the actors who +supported him smoked cigarettes at the stage door until the dash for +dressing room and costume. + +Some women scold because he has not given pictures of the great people +whom he met. "Why," they ask, "did he not describe Crown Princess +Victoria" (the late Empress Frederick) "at least--how she looked, what +she wore? Such portraits would be interesting." But Salvini was not +painting portraits, not even his own--truly. He was giving a list of his +triumphs; and if he has shown self-appreciation, he was at least +perfectly honest. There is no hypocrisy about him. If he knew Uriah +Heep, he did not imitate him; for in no chapter has he proclaimed +himself "'umble." If one will read Signor Salvini's book, remembering +that the paeans of a world have been sung in his honour, and that he +really had no superior in his artistic life, I think the I's and my's +will seem simply natural. + +However he may have been admired in other characters, I do truly believe +that only those who have seen him in "Othello" and "Morte Civile" can +fully appreciate the marvellous art of the actor. I carry in my mind two +pictures of him,--Othello, the perfect animal man, in his splendid +prime, where, in a very frenzy of conscious strength, he dashes Iago to +the earth, man and soldier lost in the ferocity of a jungle male beast, +jealously mad--an awful picture of raging passion. The other, Conrad, +after the escape from prison; a strong man broken in spirit, wasted with +disease, a great shell of a man--one who is legally dead, with the +prison pallor, the shambling walk, the cringing manner, the furtive +eyes. But oh, that piteous salute at that point when the priest +dismisses him, and the wrecked giant, timid as a child, humbly, +deprecatingly touches the priest's hand with his finger-tips and then +kisses them devoutly! I see that picture yet, through tears, just as I +saw for the first time that illustration of supreme humility and +veneration. + +Oh, never mind a little extravagance with personal pronouns! A beloved +father, a very thorough gentleman, but above all else the greatest actor +of his day. There is but the one Salvini, and how can he help knowing +it? So to book and author--ready! _Viva Salvini!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER XX + +FRANK SEN: A CIRCUS EPISODE_ + + +The circus season was over, the animals had gone into comfortable winter +quarters, while the performers, less fortunate than the beasts, were +scattered far and near, "some in rags and some in tags, and some" (a +very few) "in velvet gowns." But one small group had found midwinter +employment, a party of Japanese men and women, who were jugglers, +contortionists, and acrobats; and as their work was pretty as well as +novel, they found a place on the programme of some of the leading +vaudeville theatres. + +They were in a large Western city. Behind the curtain their retiring +manners, their exquisite cleanliness, their grave and gentle +politeness, made them favourites with the working forces of the theatre, +while before the curtain the brilliant, graceful precision with which +they carried out their difficult, often dangerous, performance won them +the high favour of the public. + +On that special day the matinee was largely attended, the theatre being +filled, even to the upper circles, as at night. Smilingly the audience +had watched the movements of the miniature men and women in their +handsome native costumes, and with "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" had seen them +emerge from those robes, already arrayed for acrobatic work, in suits of +black silk tights with trunks and shoulder and wrist trimmings of red +velvet fairly stiffened with gold embroideries; and then came the act +the people liked best, because it contained the element of danger, +because in its performance a young girl and a little lad smilingly +risked life and limb to entertain them. + +The two young things had climbed like cats up to the swinging bars, +high up, where the heat had risen from a thousand gas lights, and the +blood thundered in their ears, and the pulses on their temples beat like +hammers. So high, that looking down through the quivering, bluish mist, +the upturned faces of the people merged together and became like the +waters of a pale, wide pool. Their work was well advanced. With +clocklike precision they had obeyed, ever-smilingly obeyed, the orders +conveyed to them by the sharp tap of the fan their trainer held, though +to the audience the two young forms glittering in black and scarlet and +gold, poising and fluttering there, were merely playing in midair like a +pair of tropical birds. + +They were beginning their great feat, in which danger was so evident +that women often cried out in terror and some covered their eyes and +would not look at all--the music even had sunken to a sort of tremor of +fear. They were for the moment hanging head downward from their +separate bars, when across the stillness came the ominous sound of +cracking, splintering wood; afterward it was known that the rung of a +chair in an upper private box had broken, but then,--but _then_! the +sound was close to the swaying girl's ear! + +Believing it was her bar that was breaking, her strained nerves tore +free from all control! Driven by fear, she made a mad leap out into +space, reaching frantically for the little brown hands that a half +second later would have been ready for her, with life and safety in +their tenacious grasp. + +To those who do their work in space and from high places, the distance +between life and death, between time and eternity, is often measured by +half seconds. Little Omassa had leaped too soon, the small brown hands +with power to save were not extended. She grasped the empty air, gave a +despairing cry, and as she whirled downward, had barely time to realize +that the sun had gone black out in the sky, and that the world with its +shrieking millions was thundering to its end, when the awful crash came. + +There were shouts and shrieks, tears and groans, and here and there +helpless fainting. Ushers rushed from place to place, the police +appeared suddenly. The Japanese, silent, swift, self-controlled, were +moving their paraphernalia that the curtain might be lowered, were +stretching a small screen about the inert, fallen figure, were bringing +a rug to lift her on, and their faces were like so many old, _old_ ivory +masks. + +Tom McDermott, in his blue coat, stood by the silent little figure +waiting for the rug and for the coming of the doctor, and groaned, "On +her face, too--and she a girl child!" + +Tom had seen three battle-fields and many worse sights, but none of them +had misted his eyes as did this little glittering, broken heap, and he +turned his face away and muttered, "If she'd only keep quiet!" for truly +it was dreadful to see the long shudders that ran over the silent, +huddled thing, to see certain red threads broadening into very rivulets. +At last the ambulance, then the all-concealing curtain, the reviving +music, a song, a pretty dance, and _presto_, all was forgotten! + +When Omassa opened her eyes, her brain took up work just where it had +left off; therefore she was astonished to find the sun shining, for had +she not seen the sun go out quite black in the sky? Yet here it was so +bright, and she was--was, where? The room was small and clean, oh, +clean! like a Japanese house, and almost as empty. Could it be? But no, +this bed was American, and then why was she so heavy? What great weight +was upon her? She could not move one little bit, and oh, my! _what_ was +it she could faintly see beyond and below her own nose--was it shadow? +Surely she could not see her own _lip_? She smiled at that, and the +movement wrung a cry of agony from her--when, like magic, a face was +bending over her, so kind and gentle, and then a joyous voice cried to +some one in the next room, "This little girl, not content with being +alive, sir, has her senses--is she not a marvel?" + +And with light, delicate touch the stranger moistened the distended, +immovable lip poor Omassa had dimly seen, through which her lower teeth +had been driven in her fall, and in answer to her pleading, questioning +glances at her own helpless body, told her she was encased in plaster +now, but by and by she would be released, and now she was to be very +quiet and try to sleep. And then she smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the +white quilt, shut out the sunlight, and, smiling kindly back at her, +left Omassa, who obediently fell asleep--partly because her life was one +of obedience, and partly because there was nothing else to do. + +And then began the acquaintance between Mrs. Helen Holmes, nurse, and +Omassa, Japanese acrobat. The other nurses teased Helen Holmes about +her pet patient, saying she was only a commonplace, Japanese child +woman; but Mrs. Holmes would exclaim, "If you could only see her light +up and glow!" + +And so they came to calling Omassa "the lantern," and would jestingly +ask "when she was going to be lighted up"; but there came a time when +Mrs. Holmes knew the magic word that would light the flame and make the +lantern glow, like ruby, emerald, and sapphire; like opal and +tourmaline. + +The child suffered long and terribly; both arms were broken, and in +several places, also her little finger, a number of ribs, her +collar-bone, and one leg, while cuts were simply not counted. During her +fever-haunted nights she babbled Japanese for hours, with one single +English name appearing and reappearing almost continually,--the name of +Frank; and when she called that name it was like the cooing of a pigeon, +and the down-drooping corners of her grave mouth curled upward into +smiles. She spoke English surprisingly well, as the other members of the +troupe only knew a very little broken English; and had she not placed +the emphasis on the wrong syllable, her speech, would have been almost +perfect. + +Generally she was silent and sad and unsmiling, but grateful, +passionately grateful to her "nurse-lady," as she called Mrs. Holmes; +yet when, that kind woman stooped to kiss her once, Omassa shrank from +the caress with such repugnance as deeply to wound her, until the +little Japanese had explained to her the national abhorrence of kissing, +assuring her over and over again that even "the Japan ma'ma not kiss +little wee baby she love." + +Mrs. Holmes ceased to wonder at the girl's sadness when she found she +was absolutely alone in the world: no father, no mother; no, no sister, +no brother, "no what you call c-cousine?--no nothing, nobody have I got +what belong to me," she said. + +One morning, as her sick-room toilet was completed, Mrs. Holmes said +lightly:-- + +"Omassa, who is Frank?" and then fairly jumped at the change in the +ivory-tinted, expressionless face. Her long, narrow eyes glowed, a pink +stain came on either cheek, she raised herself a little on her best arm, +eagerly she cried, "You know him--oh, you know Frank?" + +Regretfully Mrs. Holmes answered, "No, dear, I don't know him." + +"But," persisted Omassa, "you know him, or how could you speak his +name?" + +"I learned the name from you, child, when you talked in the fever. I am +very sorry I have caused you a disappointment. I am to blame for my +curiosity--forgive me." + +All the light faded from her face and very quietly she lay down upon her +pillow, her lips close-pressed, her eyes closed; but she could not hide +the shining of the tears that squeezed between her short, thick lashes +and clung to them. 'Twas long before his name was mentioned again; but +one day something had been said of friends, when Omassa with intense +pride had exclaimed:--"I have got my own self one friend--he--my friend +Frank." + +"What's his other name?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he very poor, he got only one name." + +"But, dear, he must have another name, he is Frank somebody or +something." + +"No! no!" persisted Omassa with gentle obstinacy, "he tell me always +true, he very poor, good man--he got only one name, my Frank Sen." + +"There," cried Mrs. Holmes, triumphantly, "you see he _has_ two names +after all, you have just called him by them both--Frank Sen." + +At which the invalid sent forth a tinkling laugh of amusement, crying: +"Oh, that not one man's name, oh, no! That Sen that like your Mr.--Mrs.; +you nurse-lady, you Holmes Sen. Ito--big Japan fight man, he Ito Sen, +you unnerstand me, nurse-lady?" + +"Yes, child, I understand. Sen is a title, a term of respect, and you +like to show your friend Frank all the honour you can, so you call him +Frank Sen." + +And Omassa with unconscious slanginess gravely answered: "You right _on_ +to it at first try. My boss" (her manager Kimoto) "find _me_ baby in +Japan, with very bad old man. He gamble all time. I not know why he have +me, he not my old man, but he sell me for seven year to Kimoto, and +Kimoto teach me jump, turn, twist, climb, and he send my money all to +old man--_all_. We go Mexico--South America--many Islands--to German +land, and long time here in this most big America--and the world so +big--and then I so little Japan baby--I no play--I no sing--I know +nothing what to do--and just _one_ person in this big lonesome_ness_ +make a kindness to me--my Frank Sen--just one man--just one woman in all +world make goodness to me--my Frank Sen and my nurse-lady," and she +stroked with reverent little fingers the white hand resting on the bed +beside her. + +"What was he like, your Frank?" asked the nurse. + +"Oh, he one big large American man--he not laugh many times loud, but he +laugh in he blue eye. He got brown mustache and he hair all short, +thick, wavy--like puppy dog's back. He poor--he not perform in circus, +oh, no! He work for put up tents, for wagon, for horses. He ver good man +for fight too--he smash man that hurt horse--he smash man that kick dog +or push me, Japan baby. Oh, he best man in all the world" (the exquisite +Madame Butterfly was not known yet, so Omassa was not quoting). "He tell +me I shall not say some words, 'damn' and 'hell' and others more long, +more bad, and he tell me all about that 'hell' and where is--and how you +get in for steal, for lie, for hurt things not so big as you--and how +you can't get out again where there is cool place for change--and he +smooth my hair and pat my shoulder, for he know Japan people don't ever +be kissed--and he call me one word I cannot know." + +She shook her head regretfully. "He call me 'poor little wave'--why poor +little wave--wave that mean water?" she sighed. "I can't know why Frank +Sen call me that." + +But quick-witted Mrs. Holmes guessed the word had been "waif"--poor +little waif, and she began dimly to comprehend the big-hearted, rough +tent-man, who had tried to guard this little foreign maid from the +ignorance and evil about her. + +"But," resumed Omassa, with perfect conviction, "Frank Sen meaned +goodness for me when he called me 'wave'--I know _that_. What you think +that big American man do for help me little Japan baby--with no sense? +Well, I will tell you. When daylight circus-show over, he take me by +hand and lead me to shady place between tents--he sit down--put me at he +knee, and in what you call primer-book with he long brown finger he +point out and make me know all those big fat letters--yes, he do _that_. +Other mens make of him fun--and he only laugh; but when they say he my +father and say of me names, he lay down primer and fight. When he lay +out the whole deck, he come back and wash he hands and show me some more +letters. Oh, I very stupid Japan baby; but at last I know _all_, and +_then_ he harness some together and make d-o-g say dog, and n-o say no, +and so it come that one day next week was going to be his +fete-day,--what you call birsday,--and I make very big large secret." + +She lifted herself excitedly in bed, her glowing eyes were on her +nurse's face, her lips trembled, the "lantern" was alight and glowing +radiantly. + +"What you think I do for my Frank Sen's birsday? I have never one +penny,--I cannot buy,--but I make one big great try. I go to +circus-lady, that ride horse and jump hoops--she read like Frank Sen. I +ask her show me some right letters. Oh, I work hard--for I am very +stupid Japan child; but when that day come, Frank Sen he lead me to +shady place--he open primer--then," her whole face was quivering with +fun at the recollection, "then I take he long finger off--I put _my_ +finger and I slow spell--not cat--not dog--oh, _what_ you think?--I +spell F-r-a-n-k--Frank! He look to me, and then he make a big jump--he +catch me--toss me, high up in air, and he shout big glad shout, and then +I say--'cause for your birsday.' He stop, he put me down, and he eyes +come wet, and he take my hand and he say: 'Thank you, that's the only +birsday gift I ever _re_ceived that was not from my mother. Spell it +again for me,' he said; and then he was very proud and said, 'there was +not any-other birsday gift like that in all the world!' What you think +of _that_? + +"Then the end to season of circus come--Frank Sen he kneel down by +me--he very sad--he say, 'I have nothing to give--I am such a fool--and +the green-cloth--oh, the curse of the green-cloth!' He took off my Japan +slippers and smiled at them and said, 'Poor little feet'; he stroked my +hands and said, 'Poor little hands'; he lifted up my face and said, +'Poor little wave'; then he look up in air and he say, very +troubled-like, 'A few home memories--some small knowledge, all I had, I +have given her. To read a little is not much, but maybe it may help her +some day, and I have nothing more to give!' + +"And I feeling something grow very fast, here and here" (touching throat +and breast), "and I say, '_You_ have nothing to give me? well'--and then +I forget all about I am little Japan girl, and I cry, 'Well, _I_ have +something to give you, Frank Sen, and that is one kiss!' And I put my +arms about he neck and make one big large kiss right on he kind lips." + +Her chin sank upon her night-robed breast. After a moment she smiled +deprecatingly at Mrs. Holmes and whispered: "You forgive me, other day? +You see I Japan girl--and just once I give big American kiss to my +friend, Frank Sen." + + + + +_CHAPTER XXI + +STAGE FORFEITS AND THEIR HUMOUR_ + + +It was during the rehearsals of "L'Article 47" that I enjoyed one single +hearty laugh,--a statement that goes far to show my distressed state of +mind,--for generally speaking that is an unusual day which does not +bring along with its worry, work, and pain some bubble of healing +laughter. It was a joke of Mr. Le Moyne's own special brand that found +favour in my eyes and a place in my memory. Any one who has ever served +under Mr. Daly can recall the astounding list of rules printed in fine +type all over the backs of his contracts. The rules touching on +_forfeits_ seemed endless: "For being late," "For a stage wait," "For +lack of courtesy," "For gossiping," "For wounding a companion's +feelings"--each had its separate forfeiture. "For addressing the manager +on business outside of his office," I remember, was considered worth one +dollar for a first offence and more for a second. Most of these rules +ended with, "Or discharge at the option of the manager." But it was well +known that the mortal offence was the breaking that rule whose very +first forfeit was five dollars, "Or discharge at the option of," etc., +that rule forbidding the giving to outsiders of any stage information +whatever; touching the plays in rehearsal, their names, scenes, length, +strength, or story; and to all these many rules on the backs of our +contracts we assented and subscribed our amused or amazed selves. + +When the new French play "L'Article 47" was announced, the title aroused +any amount of curiosity. A reporter after a matinee one day followed me +up the avenue, trying hard to get me to explain its meaning; but I was +anxious not to be "discharged at the option of the manager," and +declined to explain. Many of the company received notes asking the +meaning of the title. At Mr. Le Moyne's house there boarded a walking +interrogation-point of a woman. She wished to know what "L'Article 47" +meant; she would know. She tried Mr. Harkins; Mr. Harkins said he didn't +know. She tossed her head and tried Mr. Crisp; Mr. Crisp patiently and +elaborately explained just why he could not give any information. She +implied that he did not know a lady when he saw one, and fell upon Mr. +Le Moyne, tired, hungry, suavely sardonic. "_He_ was," she assured him, +"a gentleman of the old school. _He_ would know how to receive a lady's +request and honour it." And Le Moyne rose to the occasion. A large +benevolence sat upon his brow, as assuring her that, though he ran the +risk of discharge for her fair sake, yet should she have her will. He +asked if she had ever seen a Daly contract. The bridling, simpering +idiot replied, "She had seen several, and such numbers of silly rules +she had never seen before, and--" + +"That's it," blandly broke in Le Moyne, "there's the explanation of the +whole thing--see? 'L' Article 47' is a five-act dramatization of the +47th rule of Daly's contract." + +"Did you ever?" gasped the woman. + +"No," said Le Moyne, reaching for bread, "I never did; but Daly's up to +anything, and he'd discharge me like a shot if he should ever hear of +this." + +It was almost impossible to get Mr. Daly to laugh at an actor's joke; he +was too generally at war with them, and he was too often the object of +the jest. But he did laugh once at one of the solemn frauds perpetrated +on me by this same Le Moyne. + +On the one hundred and twenty-fifth performance of "Divorce" I had +"stuck dead," as the saying is. Not a word could I find of my speech. I +was cold--hot--cold again. I clutched Mrs. Gilbert's hand. I whispered +frantically: "What is it? Oh! what is the word?" But horror on horror, +in my fall I had dragged her down with me. She, too, was +bewildered--lost. "I don't know," she murmured. There we were, all at +sea. After an awful wait I walked over and asked Captain Lynde (Louis +James) to come on, and the scene continued from that point. I was +angry--shamed. I had never stuck in all my life before, not even in my +little girl days. Mr. Daly was, of course, in front. He came rushing +back to inquire, to scold. Every one joked me about my probable +five-dollar forfeit. Well, next night came, and at that exact line I did +it again. Of course that was an expression of worn-out nerves; but it +was humiliating in the extreme. Mr. Daly, it happened, was attending an +opening elsewhere, and did not witness my second fall from grace. Then +came Le Moyne to me--big and grave and kind, his plump face with the +shiny spots on the cheek-bones fairly exuding sympathetic commiseration. +He led me aside, he lowered his voice, he addressed me gently:-- + +[Illustration: _W.J. Le Moyne_] + +"You stuck again, didn't you, Clara? Too bad! too bad! and of course you +apprehend trouble with Daly? I'm awfully sorry. Ten dollars is such a +haul on one week's salary. But see here, I've got an idea that will help +you out, if you care to listen to it." + +I looked hard at him, but the wretch had a front of brass; his +benevolence was touching. I said eagerly: "Yes, I do care indeed to +listen. What is the idea?" + +He beamed with affectionate interest, as he said impressively, "Well, +now you know that a bad 'stick' generally costs five dollars in this +theatre?" + +"Yes," I groaned. + +"And you stuck awfully last night?" + +"Yes," I admitted. + +"Then to-night you go and repeat the offence. But here is where I see +hope for you. Daly is not here; he does not know yet what you have done. +Watch then for his coming. This play is so long he will be here before +it's over. Go to his private office at once. Get ahead of every one +else; do you understand? Approach him affably and frankly. Tell him +yourself that you have unfortunately stuck again, and then offer him +_the two 'sticks' for eight dollars_. If he's a gentleman and not a Jew, +he'll accept your proposal." + +Just what remarks I made to my sympathetic friend Le Moyne at the end of +that speech I cannot now recall. If any one else can, I can only say I +was not a church member then, and let it pass at that. But when I opened +my envelope next salary day and saw my full week's earnings there, I +went to Mr. Daly's office and told him of my two "sticks" and of Le +Moyne's proposed offer, and for once he laughed at an actor's joke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XXII + +POOR SEMANTHA_ + + +It has happened to every one of us, I don't know why, but every mother's +son or daughter of us can look back to the time when we habitually +referred to some acquaintance or friend as "poor So-and-So"; and the +curious part of it is that if one pauses to consider the why or +wherefore of such naming, one is almost sure to find that, financially +at least, "poor So-and-So" is better off than the person who is doing +the "pooring." Nor is "poor So-and-So" always sick or sorrowful, stupid +or ugly; and yet, low be it whispered, is there not always a trace of +contempt in that word "poor" when applied to an acquaintance? A very +slight trace, of course,--we lightly rub the dish with garlic, we do not +slice it into our salad. So when we call a friend "poor So-and-So," +consciously or unconsciously, there is beneath all our affection the +slight garlic touch of contemptuous pity; how else could I, right to her +merry, laughing face, have called this girl poor Semantha? + +I had at first no cause to notice her especially; she was poor, so was +I; she was in the ballet, so was I. True, I had already had heads nodded +sagely in my direction, and had heard voices solemnly murmur, "That +girl's going to do something yet," and all because I had gone on alone +and spoken a few lines loudly and clearly, and had gone off again, +without leaving the audience impressed with the idea that they had +witnessed the last agonized and dying breath of a girl killed by fright. +I had that much advantage, but we both drew the same amount of salary +per week,--five very torn and very dirty one-dollar bills. Of course +there could have been no rule nor reason for it, but it had so happened +that all the young women of the ballet--there were four--received their +salary in one-dollar bills. However, I was saying that we, the ballet, +dressed together at that time, and poor Semantha first attracted my +attention by her almost too great willingness to use my toilet soap, +instead of the common brown washing soap she had brought with her. At +some past time this soap must have been of the shape and size of a +building brick, but now it resembled a small dumb-bell, so worn was its +middle, so nobby its ends. Then, too, my pins were, to all intents and +purposes, her pins; my hair-pins her hair-pins; while worst of all, my +precious, real-for-true French rouge was _her_ rouge. + +At that point I came near speaking, because poor Semantha was not +artistic in her make-up, and she painted not only her cheeks but her +eyes, her temples, her jaws, and quite a good sample of each side of +her neck. But just as I would be about to speak, I would bethink me of +those nights when, in the interest of art, I had to be hooked up behind, +and I would hold my peace. + +On the artistic occasions alluded to, I hooked Semantha up the back, and +then Semantha hooked up my back. Ah, what a comfort was that girl; as a +hooker-up of waists she was perfection. No taking hold of the two sides +of the waist, planting the feet firmly, and taking a huge breath, as if +the Vendome column was about to be overthrown. No hooking of two-thirds +of the hooks and eyes, and then suddenly unhooking them, remarking that +there was a little mistake at the top hook. No putting of thumbs to the +mouth to relieve the awful numbness caused by terrible effort and +pinching. Ah, no! Semantha smiled,--she generally did that,--turned you +swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, +fastened that, fluttered to the top, exactly matched the top hook to +the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift +smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your +back was a joy until the act was over. + +That was all I had known of Semantha. Probably it was all I ever should +have known had not a sharp attack of sickness kept me away from the +theatre for a time, during which absence Semantha made the discovery +which was to bring her nearer to me. + +Finding my dressing place but a barren waste of pine board, Semantha +with smiling readiness turned to the dressing place on her left for a +pin or two, and was stricken with amazement when the milder of her two +companions remarked in a grudgingly unwilling tone, "You may take a few +of my pins and hair-pins if you are sure to pay them back again." + +While she was simply stunned for a moment, when the other companion, +with that rare, straightforward brutality for which she became so +deservedly infamous later on, snorted angrily: "No, you don't! Don't you +touch anything of mine! You can't sponge on me as you do on Clara!" + +Now Semantha was a German, as we were apt to find out if ever she grew +excited over anything; and whenever she had a strange word used to her, +she would repeat that word several times, first to make sure she fully +understood its meaning, next to impress it upon her memory; so there she +stood staring at her dressing mate, and slowly, questioningly repeated, +"Spoonge? spoonge? w'at is that spoonge?" And received for answer, +"_What is_ it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," +continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; +that's what sponging is." + +Poor Semantha--astonished, insulted, frightened--turned her quivering +face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, my Fraeulein +Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?" + +Then for the first time, and I honestly believe the last time in her +life, that other pretty blond, but woolly-brained, young woman rose to +the occasion--God bless her--and answered stoutly, "No, Clara never +thought you were stealing." + +So it happened that when I returned to work, and Semantha's excited and +very German welcome had been given, I noticed a change in her. When my +eyes met hers, instead of smiling instantly and broadly at me, her eyes +sank to the ground and her face flushed painfully. At last we were left +alone for a few moments. Quick as a flash, Semantha shut the door and +bolted it with the scissors. Then she faced me; but what a strange, new +Semantha it was! Her head was down, her eyes were down, her very body +seemed to droop. Never had I seen a human look so like a beaten dog. She +came quite close, both hands hanging heavily at her sides, and in a +low, hurried tone she began: "Clara, now Clara, now see, I've been usen +your soap--ach, it smells so goot!--nearly all der time!"--"Why," I +broke in, "you were welcome!" + +But she stopped me roughly with one word, "Wait," and then she went on. +"Und der pins--why, I can't no more count. Und der hair-pins, und der +paint," (her voice was rising now), "oh, der lofely soft pink paint! und +I used dem, I used 'em all. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem +all. You see, I be so green, fraeulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, +I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, +und by Gott I didn't shteal!" + +I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, +"I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it." + +She looked me brightly in the eyes and answered: "You do? you _truly_ +know dat?" gave a great sigh, and added with a fervour I fear I +ill-appreciated, "Oh, I hope you vill go to heaven!" then quickly +qualified it, "dat is, dat I don't mean right avay, dis minute--only ven +you can't keep avay any longer!" + +Then she sprang to her dress hanging on the hook, and after struggling +among the roots of her pocket, found the opening, and with triumph +breathing from every feature of her face, she brought forth a small +white cube, and cried out, "Youst you look at dat!" + +I did; it seemed of a stony structure, white with a chill thin line of +pink wandering forlornly through or on it (I am sure nothing could go +through it); but the worst thing about it was the strange and evil smell +emanating from it. And this evil, white, hard thing had been purchased +from a pedler under the name of soap, fine shaving or toilet soap, and +now Semantha was delightedly offering it to me, to use every night, and +I with immense fervour promised I would use it, just as soon as my own +was gone; and I mentally registered a solemn vow that the shadow of my +soap should never grow less. + +I soon discovered that poor Semantha was very ambitious; yes, in spite +of her faint German accent and the amusing abundance of negatives in her +conversation, she was ambitious. One night we had been called on to "go +on" as peasants and sing a chorus and do a country dance, and poor +Semantha had sung so freely and danced so gracefully and gayly, that it +was a pleasure to look at her. She was such a contrast to the two +others. One had sung in a thin nasal tone, and the expression of her +face was enough to take all the dance out of one's feet. With frowning +brows and thin lips tightly compressed, she attacked the figures with +such fell determination to do them right or die, that one could hardly +help hoping she _would_ make a mistake and take the consequences. The +other,--the woolly-brained young person,--having absolutely no ear for +music or time, silently but vigorously worked her jaws through the +chorus, and affably ambled about, under everybody's feet, through the +dance, displaying all the stiff-kneed grace of a young, well-meaning +calf. + +When we were in our room, I told Semantha how well she had sung and +danced, and her face was radiant with delight. Then becoming very grave, +she said: "Oh, fraeulein, how I vant to be an actor! Not a common van, +but" and she laid her hand with a childish gesture on her breast--"I +vant to be a big actor. Don' you tink I can ever be von--eh?" + +And looking into those bright, intelligent, squirrel-like eyes, I +answered, "I think it is very likely," Poor Semantha! we were to recall +those simple remarks, later on. + +Christmas being near, I was very busy working between acts upon +something intended for a present to my mother. This work was greatly +admired by all the girls; but never shall I forget the astonishment of +poor Semantha when she learned for whom it was intended. + +"Your mutter lets you love her yet--you would dare?" And as I only gazed +dumbly at her, she went on, while slow tears gathered in her eyes, "My +mutter hasn't let me love her since--since I vas big enough to be +knocked over." + +Through the talkativeness of an extra night-hand or scene-shifter, who +knew her family, I learned something of poor Semantha's private life. +Poor child! from the very first she had rested her bright brown eyes +upon the wrong side of life,--the seamy side,--and her own personal +share of the rough patchwork, composed of dismal drabs and sodden browns +and greens, had in it just one small patch of rich and brilliant +colour,--the theatre. Of the pure tints of sky and field and watery +waste and fruit and flower, she knew nothing. But what of that! had she +not secured this bit of rosy radiance, and might it not in time be added +to, until it should incarnadine the whole fabric of her life? + +Semantha's father was dead; her mother was living--worse luck. For had +she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and +reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to +support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she +lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present +rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young +tempers, a hardener of young hearts. Many a woman of quick, short temper +has a kind heart; while even the sullenly sulky woman generally has a +few rich, sweet drops of the milk of human kindness, which she is +willing to bestow upon her own immediate belongings. But Semantha's +mother was not of these. How, one might ask, had this wretch obtained +two good husbands? Yes, Semantha had a stepfather, and the only excuse +for the suicidal marriage act as performed by these two victims was that +the woman was well enough to look upon--a trim, bright-eyed, brown +creature with the mark of the beast well hidden from view. + +When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and +money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and +sullen, silent lips. When the child came home with empty hands, and gave +only cheerfully performed hard manual labour, she was received with +fierce eyes, cruel rankling words, and many a cut and heavy blow, and +was often thrust from the house itself, because 'twas known the girl was +afraid of darkness. + +[Illustration: _Clara Morris before coming to Daly's Theatre in 1870_] + +Her stepfather then would secretly let her in, though sometimes she +dared go no farther than the shed, and there she would sit the whole +night through, in all the helpless agony of fright. But all this was as +nothing compared to the cruelty she had yet to meet out to poor +Semantha, whose greatest fault seemed to be her intense longing for some +one to love. Her mother _would not_ be loved, her own father had wisely +given the whole thing up, her step-father _dared_ not be loved. So, when +the second family began to materialize, Semantha's joy knew no bounds. +What a welcome she gave each newcomer! How she worked and walked and +cooed and sang and made herself an humble bond-maiden before them. And +they loved her and cried to her, and bit hard upon her needle stabbed +forefinger with their first wee, white, triumphant teeth, and for just a +little, little time poor Semantha was not poor, but very rich indeed. +And that strange creature, who had brought them all into the world, +looked on and saw the love and smiled a nasty smile; and Semantha saw +the smile, and her heart quaked, as well it might. For so soon as these +little men could stand firmly on their sturdy German legs, their gentle +mother taught them, deliberately taught them, to call their sister +names, the meaning being as naught to them, but enough to break a +sister's heart. To jeer at and disobey her, so that they became a pair +of burly little monsters, who laughed loud, affected laughter at the +word "love," and swore with many long-syllabled German oaths that they +would kick with their copper-toes any one who tried to kiss them. Ah! +when you find a fiercely violent temper allied to a stone-cold heart, +offer you up an earnest prayer to Him for the safety of the souls coming +under the dominion and the power of that woman. + +I recall one action of Semantha's that goes far, I think, to prove what +a brave and loyal heart the untaught German girl possessed. She was very +sensitive to ridicule, and when people made fun of her, though she would +laugh good-humouredly, many times she had to keep her eyes down to hide +the brimming tears. Now her stepfathers name was a funny one to American +ears, and always provoked a laugh, while her own family name was not +funny. Yet because the man had shown her a little timid kindness, she +faithfully bore his name, and through storms of jeering laughter, clear +to the dismal end, she called herself Semantha Waacker. + +Once we spoke of it, and she exclaimed in her excited way: "Yes, I am +alvays Waacker. Why not, ven he is so goot? Why, why, dat man, dat vater +Waacker, he have kissed me two time already. Vunce here" (placing her +finger on a vicious scar upon her check), "von de mutter cut me bad, und +vun odder time, ven I come very sick. Und de mutter seen him in de +glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a +little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out +de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before +everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha +Waacker." + +The unfortunate man's occupation was also something that provoked +laughter, when one first heard of it; but as Semantha herself was my +informant, and I had grown to care for her, I managed by a great effort +to keep my face serious. How deeply this fact impressed her, I was to +learn later on. + +Christmas had come, and I was in high glee. I had many gifts, simple and +inexpensive most of them, but they were perfectly satisfactory to me. My +dressing-room mates had remembered me, too, in the most characteristic +fashion. The pretty, woolly-brained girl had with smiling satisfaction +presented me with a curious structure of perforated cardboard and gilt +paper, intended to catch flies. Its fragility may be imagined from the +fact that it broke twice before I got it back into its box; still there +was, I am sure, not another girl in Cleveland who could have found for +sale a fly-trap at Christmas time. + +The straightforward one had presented me with an expensively repellent +gift in the form of a brown earthenware jug, a cross between a Mexican +idol and a pitcher. A hideous thing, calculated to frighten children or +sober drunken men. I know I should have nearly died of thirst before I +could have forced myself to swallow a drop of liquid coming from that +horrible interior. + +Semantha was nervous and silent, and the performance was well on before +she caught me alone, out in a dark passageway. Then she began as she +always did when excited, with: "Clara, now Clara, you know I told my +vater of you, for dat you were goot to me, und he say, vat he alvays +say--not'ing. Dat day I come tell you vat his work vas, I vent home und +I say, 'Vater Waacker, I told my fraeulein you made your livin' in de +tombstone yard,' und he say, quvick like, 'Vell,'--you know my vater no +speak ver goot English" (Semantha's own English was weakening +fast),--"'vell, I s'pose she make some big fool laugh, den, like +everybodies, eh?' Und I say, 'No, she don't laugh! de lips curdle a +little'" (curdle was Semantha's own word for tremble or quiver. If she +shivered even with cold, she curdled with cold), "'but she don't laugh, +und she say, "It vas the best trade in de vorldt for you, 'cause it must +be satisfactions to you to work all day long on somebody's tombstone."'" + +"Oh, Semantha!" I cried, "why did you tell him that?" + +"But vy not?" asked the girl, innocently. "Und he look at me hard, und +his mouth curdle, und den he trow back his head und he laugh, pig +laughs, und stamp de feet und say over und over, 'Mein Gott! mein Gott! +satisfackshuns ter vurk on somebody's tombstones--_some_body's. Und she +don't laugh at my vurk, nieder, eh? Vell, vell! dat fraeulein she tinks +sometings! Say, Semantha, don't it dat you like a Kriss-Krihgle present +to make to her, eh?' Und I say, dat very week, dere have to be new shoes +for all de kinder, und not vun penny vill be left. Und he shlap me my +back, une! say, 'Never mindt, I'll make him,' und so he did, und here +it is," thrusting some small object into my hand. "Und if you laugh, +fraeulein, I tink I die, 'cause it is so mean und little." + +Then stooping her head, she pressed a kiss on my bare shoulder and +rushed headlong down the stairs, leaving me standing there in the dark +with "it" in my hand. Poor Semantha! "it" lies here now, after all these +years; but where are you, Semantha? Are you still dragging heavily +through life, or have you reached that happy shore, where hearts are +hungry never more, but filled with love divine? + +"It" is a little bit of white marble, highly polished and perfectly +carved to imitate a tiny Bible. A pretty toy it is to other eyes; but to +mine it is infinitely pathetic, and goes well with another toy in my +possession, a far older one, which cost a human life. + +Well, from that Christmas-tide Semantha was never quite herself again. +For a time she was extravagantly gay, laughing at everything or nothing. +Then she became curiously absent-minded. She would stop sometimes in the +midst of what she might be doing, and stand stock-still, with fixed +eyes, and thoughts evidently far enough away from her immediate +surroundings. Sometimes she left unfinished the remark she might be +making. Once I saw a big, hulking-looking fellow walking away from the +theatre door with her. The night was bad, too, but I noticed that she +carried her own bundle, while he slouched along with his hands in his +pocket, and I felt hurt and offended for her. + +And then one night Semantha was late, and we wondered greatly, since she +usually came very early, the theatre being the one bright spot in life +to her. We were quite dressed, and were saying how lucky it was there +was no dance to-night, or it would be spoiled, when she came in. Her +face was dreadful; even the straightforward one exclaimed in a shocked +tone, "You must be awful sick!" + +But Semantha turned her hot, dry-looking eyes upon her and answered +slowly and dully, "I'm not sick." + +"Not sick, with that white face and those poor curdling hands?" + +"I'm not sick, I'm going avay." + +Just then the act was called, and down the stairs we had to dash to take +our places. We wore pages' dresses, and as we went Semantha stood in the +doorway in her shabby street gown and followed us with wistful eyes--she +did so love a page's costume. + +When we were "off" we hastened back to our dressing room. Semantha was +still there. She moved stiffly about, packing together her few +belongings; but her manner silenced us. She had taken everything else, +when her eyes fell upon a remnant of that evil-smelling soap. She paused +a bit, then in that same slow way she said, "You never, never used that +soap after all, Clara?" and when I answered: "Oh, yes, I have. I've used +it several times," she put her hand out quickly, and took the thing, and +slipped it into her pocket, and then she stood a moment and looked +about; and if ever anguish grew in human eyes, it slowly grew in hers. +Her face was pale before; it was white now. + +At last her eyes met mine, then a sudden tremor crossed her face from +brow to chin, a piteous slow smile crept around her lips, and in that +dull and hopeless tone she said, "You see, my fraeulein, I'll never be a +big actor after all," and turned her back upon me, and slowly left the +room and the theatre, without one kiss or handshake, even from me. And +I, who knew her, did not guess why. She went out of my life forever, +stepping down to that lower world of which I had only heard, but by +God's mercy did not know. + +That same sad night a group of men, close-guarded, travelled to +Columbus, that city of great prisons and asylums, and one of those +guarded men was poor Semantha's lover, alas! her convicted lover now; +and she, having cast from her her proudest hope, her high ambition, +trusting a little in his innocence, trusting entirely in his love, now +followed him steadily to the prison's very gate. + +After this came a long silence. One girl had fallen from our ranks, but +what of that? Another girl had taken her place. We were still four, +marching on,--eyes front, step firm and regular,--ready when the quick +order came quickly to obey. There could be no halt, no turning back to +the help of the figure already growing dim, of one who had fallen by the +wayside. + +After a time rumours came to us, at first faint and vague--uncertain, +then more distinct--more dreadful! And the stronger the rumours grew, +the lower were the voices with which we discussed them; since we were +young, and vice was strange to us, and we were being forced to believe +that she who had so recently been our companion was now--was--well, to +be brief, she wore her rouge in daylight now upon the public street. + +Poor, poor Semantha! They were playing "Hamlet," the night of the worst +and strongest rumour, and as I heard Ophelia assuring one of her noble +friends or relatives:-- + + "You may wear your rue with a difference," + +I could not help saying to myself that "rue" was not the only thing that +could be so treated, since we all had rouge upon our cheeks; yet +Semantha--ah, God forgive her--wore her rouge with a difference. + +A little longer and we were all in Columbus, where a portion of each +season was passed, our manager keeping his company there during the +sitting of the legislature. We had secured boarding-houses,--the memory +of mine will never die,--and in fact our round bodies were beginning to +fit themselves to the square holes they were expected to fill for the +next few weeks, when we found ourselves sneezing and coughing our way +through that spirit-crushing thing they call a "February thaw." +Rehearsal had been long, and I was tired. I had quite a distance to +walk, and my mind was full of professional woe. Here was I, a ballet +girl who had taken a cold whose proportions simply towered over that +nursed by the leading lady's self; and as I slipped and slid slushily +homeward, I asked myself angrily what a fairy was to do with a +handkerchief,--and in heaven's name, what was that fairy to do without +one. The dresses worn by fairies--theatrical, of course--in those days +would seem something like a fairy mother-hubbard now, at all events a +home toilet of some sort, so very proper were they; but even so there +was no provision made for handkerchiefs, no thought apparently that +stage fairies might have colds in their star-crowned heads. + +So as my wet skirt viciously slapped my icy ankles, I almost tearfully +declared to myself I would have to have a handkerchief, even though it +wore pinned to my wings, only who on earth could get it off in time for +me to use? Now if poor Semantha were only--and there I stopped, my eyes, +my mind, fixed upon a woman a little way ahead of me, who stood staring +in a window. Her figure drooped as though she were weary or very, very +sad, and I said to myself, "I don't know what you are looking at, but I +_do_ know it's something you want awfully," and just then she turned and +faced me. My heart gave a plunge against my side. I knew her. One +woman's glance, lightning-quick, mathematically true, and I had her +photograph--the last, the very last I ever took of poor Semantha. + +As her eyes met mine, they opened wide and bright. The rosy colour +flushed into her face, her lips smiled. She gave a little forward +movement, then before I had completed calling out her name, like a flash +she changed, her brows were knit, her lips close-pressed, and all her +face, save for the shameful red sign on her cheeks, was very white. I +stood quite still--not so, she. She walked stiffly by, till on the very +line with me she shot out one swift, sidelong glance and slightly shook +her head; yet as she passed I clearly heard that grievous sound that +coming from a woman's throat tells of a swallowed sob. + +Still I stood watching her as she moved away, regardless quite of watery +pool or deepest mud; she marched straight on and at the first corner +disappeared, but never turned her head. As she had left me first without +good-by, so she met me now without a greeting, and passed me by without +farewell. And I, who knew her, understood at last the reason why. Poor +wounded, loyal heart, who would deny herself a longed-for pleasure +rather than put the tiniest touch of shame upon so small a person as a +ballet girl whom one year ago she had so lovingly called friend. + +At last I turned to go. As I came to the window into which Semantha had +so lovingly been gazing, I looked in too, and saw a window full of fine, +thick underwear for men. + +Two crowded, busy years swept swiftly by before I heard once more, and +for the last time, of poor Semantha. I was again in Columbus for a short +time, and was boarding at the home of one of the prison wardens. +Whenever I could catch this man at home, I took pains to make him talk, +and he told me many interesting tales. They were scarcely of a nature to +be repeated to young children after they had gone to bed, that is, if +you wanted the children to stay in bed; but they were interesting, and +one day the talk was of odd names,--his own was funny,--and at last he +mentioned Semantha's. Of course I was alert, of course I questioned +him--how often I have wished I had not. For the tale he told was sad. +Nothing new, nay, it was common even; but so is "battle, murder, and +sudden death," from which, nevertheless, we pray each day to be +delivered. Ah! his tale was sad if common. + +It seemed that when Semantha followed that treacherous young brute, her +convicted lover, she had at first obtained a situation as a servant, so +she could not come to the prison every visiting day, and what was worse +in his eyes, she was most poorly paid, and had but very small sums to +spend upon extras for him. He grumbled loudly, and she was torn with +loving pity. Then quite suddenly she was stricken down with sickness, +and her precious brute had to do without her visits for a time and the +small comforts she provided for him, until one visiting day he fairly +broke down and roared with rage and grief over the absence of his +tobacco. + +The hospital sheltered Semantha as long as the rules permitted, but +when she left it she was weak and worn and homeless, and as she crept +slowly from place to place, a woman old and well-dressed spoke to her, +calling her Mamie Someone, and then apologized for her mistake. Next she +asked a question or two, and ended by telling Semantha she was the very +girl she wanted--to come with her. She could rest for a few days at her +home, and after that she should have steady employment and better pay, +and--oh! did I not tell you it was a common tale? + +But when on visiting day the child with frightened eyes told what she +had discovered about her new home, the soulless monster bade her stay +there, and every dollar made in her new accursed trade was lavished upon +him. + +By a little sickness and a great deal of fraud the wretch got himself +into the prison hospital for a time, and there my informant learned to +know the pair quite well. She not only loved him passionately, but she +had for all his faults of selfishness and general ugliness the tender +patience of a mother. And he traded upon her loving pity by pretending +he could obtain the privilege of this or immunity from that if he had +only so many dollars to give to the guard or keeper. And she, poor +loving fool, hastened a few steps farther down the road of shame to +obtain for him the money, receiving in return perhaps a rough caress or +two that brought the sunshine to her heart and joy into her eyes. + +His term of imprisonment was nearly over, and Semantha was preparing for +his coming freedom. His demands seemed unending. His hat would be +old-fashioned, and his boots and his undergarments were old, etc. Then +he wanted her to have two tickets for Bellefontaine ready, that they +might leave Columbus at once, and Semantha was excited and worried. "One +day," said the warden, "she asked to see me for a moment, and I +exclaimed at sight of her, 'What is it that's happened?' + +"Her face was fairly radiant with joy, and she shook all over. It seemed +as though she could not speak at first, and then she burst forth, 'Mr. +S----, now Mr. S----, you don't much like my poor boy, but joust tink +now how goot he is! Ach, Gott, he tells me ven all der tings are got, +und de tickets too, have I some money left I shall buy a ring, und +then,'--she clutched my arm with both her hands, and dropped her head +forward on them, as she continued in a stifled voice,--und then we go to +a minister and straight we get married.' + +"And," continued Mr. S----, "as I looked at her I caught myself wishing +she were dead, that she might escape the misery awaiting her. + +"At last the day came. Her lover and a pal of his went out together. +Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not pleased at the pal's +presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to +the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new +finery, but insisted upon going with his friend. Semantha yielded, of +course, and on the way her lover laughed and jested--asked for the +tickets, then the ring, and putting on the latter declared that he was +married to _her_ now, and would wear the ring until they saw the +'Bible-sharp,' and then she should be married to _him_; and Semantha +brightened up again and was happy. + +"They came at last to the house they sought. It was a low kind of +neighbourhood, had a deserted look, and was next door to a saloon. The +pal said there were no women in the house, and Semantha had better not +come in. The lover bade her wait, and they went in and closed the door, +and left the girl outside. There she waited such a weary time, then at +last she rang--quite timidly at first, then louder, faster, too, and a +scowling fellow from the saloon told her that the house was empty. She +rang wildly then, until he threatened a policeman. Then she ceased, but +walked round to the back and found its rear connected with a stable +yard. She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her +heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a +good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew +Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with +yer feller and his pal?' + +"'She didn't say nary a word,' said the boy, 'she didn't say nary a +word, but pushed her head out and looked at me till her eyes glared same +as a cat's, and I says: "Why, I seed 'em ketch the 4.30 train to +Bellefontaine! They had to run and jump to do it, but they didn't scare +a darn, they just laughed and laughed." And, Boss, something like a +tremble, but most like my dog when I beats him, and I have the stick up +to hit him again, and not a word did she say, but just stood as still +as still after that doglike tremble went away. I got muddled, and at +last I says, "Semantha, hav' yer got no sponds?" She didn't seem to see +me no more, nor hear me, and I goes on louder like, "Say, Semantha! +where yer goin' to? what yer goin' ter do now?" and, Boss, she done the +toughest thing I ever seen. She jes' slowly lifted up her hands and +looked at 'em, looked good and long, like they were strange to her, and +then jes' as slow she turns 'em over, they were bare and empty, and the +palms was up, and she spreads the fingers wide apart and moves 'em a +bit, and then without raisin' up her eyes, she jes' smiles a little +slow, slow smile. + +"'And then she turned 'round and walked away without nary a word at all; +but, Boss, her shoulders sagged down, and her head kind of trembled, and +she dragged her feet along jes' like an old, old woman, what was too +tired to live. I was skeered like, and thought I'd come here and tell +you, but I looked back to watch her. 'Twas almost dark then, and when +she came to the crossin', the wind was blowin' so she could hardly +stand, but she stopped awhile and looked down one street, then she +looked down the other street, and then she lifts up her face right to +the sky the longest time of all, and so I looks up ter see was ther' +anything there; but ther' wasn't nothin' but them dirty, low-hangin' +clouds as looks so rainy and so lonesome. And then right of a suddent +she gives a scream; but no, not a scream, a groan and a scream together. +It made my blood turn cold, I tell yer; and she trows both her empty +hands out from her, and says as plain as I do now, Boss, "My God, it is +too much! I cannot, cannot bear it!" Then she draw'd herself up quite +tall, shut her hands tight before her, and walked as fast as feet could +carry her straight toward the river.'" + +And that was the last that he, my friend, had ever heard of poor +Semantha. I tried to dry my falling tears, but he dried them more +effectually by remarking:-- + +"Yes, she was a bright, promising, true-hearted girl; but you see she +went wrong, and the sinner has to pay both here and hereafter." + +"Don't," I hotly cried. "Don't go on! don't! Sin? sin? Don't hurl that +word at her, the embodiment of self-sacrifice! Sin? where there is no +law, there can be no sin. And who had taught her anything? She was a +heathen. So far as one person can be the cause of another person's +wrong-doing, so far was Semantha's mother the guilty cause of Semantha's +loving fall. She was a heathen. She had been taught just one law--that +she was always to serve other people. That law she truly kept unto the +end. Of that great book, the Bible, closely packed with all sustaining +promises, she knew naught. I tell you the only Bible she ever held +within her hand was that mimic one of marble her father carved for me. +She was a heathen. Of that all-enduring One--'chief among ten thousand +and altogether lovely,' for whom there was no thing too small to love, +no sin too great to pardon--she knew nothing. Even that woman who with +wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, +yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and +true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its +necessity, nor its power. + +"Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her. God +placed her; and if she fell by the wayside in ignorance, she _did not_ +fall from the knowledge of her Maker." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stage Confidences, by Clara Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAGE CONFIDENCES *** + +***** This file should be named 13277.txt or 13277.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/7/13277/ + +Produced by Riikka Talonpoika and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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