The age-herald., 1900-04-09
ROLAND REEDS THINKING PART
He Tells of His Battle Against Death
 and His Triumph

From the New York Journal.
 I have spent three months in St. Luke's hospital, have undergone two operations, been given up by the doctors for dead, and have read the notice of my death in the newspapers. After passing through these three most critical months of my life feel that I am now on the high road to recov- cry. My fight for life was won by surgical skill on one hand and a determination on my part that would not die. But not for all the money ever coined or all the glory ever enjoyed by an actor would l vounta- rily endure again the pain of those three months or take a similar chance for my life.
 You know that the surgeons, after they had performed the first operation on me, decided that I had just about twelve hours more of life. Well, fooled them that time, and when, after the second operation, the odds against me seemed almost as great, fooled them once more. am still weak. l feel like man freed from long impris- onment. The relief at getting back to my family, of course goes a long way toward compensating me for the painful eXperi- ence in St. Luhe's hospital and the exhil- arating feeling of freedom which I now en- joy makes the world look very bright, after having been constrained by the strict reg ulations of the hospital.
 Were 1t not for the feeling of weakness the prospect of even a season of the ordi- narily despised lone night stands would fill me with pleasure. As 1t is, I shall not play again this spring but will rest until I open my fourteenth annual season at the Boston museum in the fall A new play Is being prepared for me, which as yet I have not read. Of my treatment in the hos pital I can speak only with praise. had a dismal time, to be sure, and do not quite understand yet why did not die.
 Fortunately, when I entered the ward my
 
 it was found that it was no longer possible to avoid an operation, I was led into the operating room. It is like a miniature theater and I felt at home at once, but I must say that it was the smallest house I ever played to. The seats were all empty, and not even an usher in sight. We had the place to ourselves.
 I played a heavy thinking part that time They put me on the operating table and administered an anesthetic. After that \ they had things all their own way. They cut me open most thoroughly, and scentif- cally, and now those surgeons know more about me than I do myself. They have what you might call an interior knowledge. The operating was so dangerous that they decided that it would be unwise to keep me longer under the influence of the anaesthet- dc, and so they sewed me up with an over hand stitch and sent me down stairs to die. Later another operation was tried, this time successfully. I did not have a can- cer of the stomach or appendicitis, as re- ported. I had something intricate and with a medical name long your arm, the matter with my intestines. Much of the time in the hospital I was unconscious or bordering upon inconsistencies, and so I was not worried with thoughts es, to my chances, although as a matter of fact, decided when I went in that I would pull through.
 The papers were kept from me so that I would not read the reports of my death and like cheerful erroneous information about me that was printed from time to time. When resting the plays that I have appeared in rose before my mental vision with remarkable vividness, and wondered vaguely If I would again see tine glare of the footlights