en there came a little squeeze to Mr. Palmer's lips
and a little glint in his eye, as he remarked: "You accept my offer and
I'll know how to meet the injunction."

And I can't help it--being born on St. Patrick's Day and all that--if
people _will_ step on the tail of one's coat, why of course they must
expect "ructions." And to tell the honest truth, Mr. Palmer's perfect
willingness to fight that injunction filled me with unholy glee; which
combined beautifully with gratitude for his quick forgiveness of my _faux
pas_--and I signed a contract with Mr. Sheridan Shook and Mr. A. M.
Palmer and was announced to appear in "The Wicked World" at the Union
Square Theatre, and I was pursued day and night by slim young men with
black curly hair, who tried to push folded papers into my unwilling
hands; while life behind the scenes grew more and more strenuous, as
scene-shifters, property-men, and head carpenters, armed with braces and
screw-eyes, charged any unknown male creature that looked as if he could
define the word injunction.

The night came, and with it an equinoctial gale of perfect fury. Whether
the people were blown in by the storm or fought their way in by
intention, I can't decide. I only know they were there and in numbers
sufficient to crowd the bright and ruddy auditorium. They were a trifle
damp about the ankles and disordered about the hair, but their hands were
in prime working order, their hearts were warm, their perceptions
quick--what more could the most terrified actress pray for in an
audience?

The play was one of Gilbert's deliciously poetic satires--well cast,
beautifully produced, after the manner of Union Square productions
generally, and Success shook the rain off her wings and perched upon our
banners, and we were all filled with pride and joy, in spite of the young
men with folded white papers who swirled wildly up and down Fourth Avenue
in the storm, and of those other young men who came early and strove
diligently to get seats within reaching distance of the foot-lights, only
to find that by some strange accident both those rows of chairs were
fully occupied when the doors were first throw open. Yes, in spite of all
those disappointed young men, we had a success, and I was not enjoined.
Yet there were two rather long managerial faces there that night. For
unless my out-of-town managers threw me overboard, because of the
trouble about "Alixe," I could remain in this charming play of "The
Wicked