entrance to me, crying: "Wait--wait!" and
waving the other hand commandingly above his head.

I heard my music; I sprang to the platform I had to enter from. "That's
me!" I cried. "Wait!" he ordered and reached out to catch me. I evaded
his grasp and skipped through the door, leaving but a fold of my skirt in
his hand. I was on the stage--and joy, oh, joy! I was without a bustle!

Mr. Daly did not like being laughed at, but when he glanced down and saw
the thing he was dragging behind him, after the manner of a baby's tin
wagon, he had to laugh, and verily there were others who laughed with
him, while the scandalized dresser carried the rejected article back to a
decent seclusion.

There is no manager, star, or agent alive whose experience will enable
him to foresee the fate of an untried play. A very curious thing is that
what is called an "actor's" play--one, that is, that actors praise and
enjoy in the rehearsing, is almost always a failure, while the managerial
judgment has been reversed so often by the public, that even the most
enthusiastic producer of new plays is apt "to hedge" a bit, with: "Unless
I deceive myself, this will prove to be the greatest play," etc.; while
the mistakes made by actors and managers both anent the value of certain
parts are illustrated sufficiently by E. H. Sothern, C. W. Couldock,
Joseph Jefferson--all three of whom made immense hits in parts they had
absolutely refused to accept, yielding only from necessity or
obligingness, and to their own astonishment finding fame in presenting
the unwelcome characters. And to the misjudged _Lord Dundreary_, _Asa
Trenchard_, etc., that night was added the name of _Alixe_.

Refined, intensely modern, the play was nevertheless a dread tragedy, and
being French it almost naturally dealt with the breaking of a certain
great commandment. And now--see: we actors thought that the stress and
power of the play would be shown in the confession of the wife and in the
scene of wild recrimination between her and the _Comte de Somerive_, when
they met after eighteen years of separation. But see, how different was
the view the public took. In the very first place then, when I escaped
the bustle, and entered, straight, and slim, art had so reduced my usual
height and changed my coloring, that until I spoke I was not recognized.
The kindly welcome then given me calmed my fears, and I said to myself:
"I can't be looking ridiculous in the part, or they would not