mplete 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 mys