The age-herald., 1898-02-06

The habitues of the theater had thinned out A half dozen old-timers were wait ing in the lobby. Back in the dressing room under the stage she was no longer the blending of the woman and the player. She was only the woman. Her eyes were large and dark and full of memories. When she spoke there was touch of memory in her voice.
 .I have been reading of "reminiscences all day." she was saying. "Reminiscences al- ways bring out the pathetic side in ones life. They make one realize that there are more tragedies in real life than are ever portrayed on the stage.'
 1T was recalling today" she went on, "my first great tragedy. She gave loving little pats to blue brocade. ''It hap pened during my first season on the stage. The mere playing series of Shakespearian revivals. I was cast for Katherine in the Tanning of the Shrew' and in Henry VIII took the part of an old lady. In those days frequently visited In the south when the fashionable seasons were at their height and in many southern cities I had friends who were watching my stage ca reer with interest. I was particularly anx-
 
 in the Old Dominion, and had written to my friends some weeks in advance that the Tanning of the Shrew' would be presented. Imagine my disappointment when I learned almost at the last moment that Henry VIII would be offered I plead with the man. ager, and implored the star to present Katherine, but it was useless. Instead of wearing the beautiful apparel of young court beauty, began unpacking the quaint costume of an old court lady. I got out my grey wig and lace cap. In the property room I found an old walking cane. The first scene was minuet at the cardinals I had to walk through the figures with the stopping pose of an old lady who is de- pending for support on her walking cane My disguise was perfect. I appeared only twice during the play. Now and then l stole glances at the gay occupants in the boxes. They, too, had wanted Rather inc. I could scarcely play my part, so bitter was my disappointment. When I retired at last to the dressing room I was completely overcome. It was my first real tragedy.
 After this pathetic story we drifted to other things She had clipped from one of the papers a description of E. H. Soth- eTll SlUOny pcTSOudllly. II IS true, Sue said, that he rarely laughs and smiles only a dreamy, captivating sort of shine which brings shadows to the corners of his eyes and not bit of color to his pale, gentle face The clipping says among other things that he broods over sufferings of people a great deal and wishes he could be of some earthly good, but is never depressed or sulky. He likes strange experiences and, while he never cares to search out the morbid and shivery does not shrink if in- vited to indulge the sullen fancies of na- turally gloomy companions. One night in Boston he spent a cheerful hour with a student doctor poking about the morgue and pronounced it ''most enjoyable and one of his faithful customs when in Eng land Is the visiting of graves and tombs Once he said to me: sThere was a little grave I watched in old Brompton church yard in London with the greatest curiosity. First it arose out of the forest of mounds gayly topped with bright red hobby horse and lots of tin whistles. glass marbles and broken toys. Then one by one the toys disappeared until one summer, when went to the graveyard, there nothing left but the washed out and weather-beaten little horse, with all it's red and blue stormed off. The wooden horse had been substituted in way for a head-stone which the small mound boasted not, and then, as the storms beat mercilessly at it even