The citizen., 1901-03-08
The "PerSOral
Representative" "
A THEATRICAL STORY.
By Eiith Sessions Tupper.

..-:.ss..-..: -. {. ~. 49,.
am certainly growing thlh' SAID MI.
Alfred Whitman contemplating himself
rucfully in his mirror; thin and hag-
gard. And by George, there are crows
feet coming around my eyes"
Iro shaved bimsolf yirororslv for =
,oor,,rt tho, n,rsod ,,ith royo,. ~;
,.xy,','
C"'.l, poisP' :" ''''' NV''' uo you VOL
oef SaIu me- auureSSiaE an Invisible
audience. 40 you WohderWhen you know
what dogs life | lead? The only mar
vel to me is that am not blind and
deaf and dumb and halt and manned and
gihherins idiot and driveIing i'm
beetle"
Having delivered himself of this state
mcnt. Mr.. Whitman ..ppcarcd to grow
trilc less dcspaling and finished his
toilet without any further outbursts of
emotion.
He seemed even cheerful as he dcsoend-
ed the hotel stairs to lis breakfast, but
when his mail was handed to him once
more a look of gloom vcilod his freshly
ghavcn ruddy checks.
Now the trouble begins" he mutter-
ell rs he hastily tore open a note on
thick blue paper, heavily pcrfumed and
addressed in big, scrawling fashionable
feminine hand.
"Iet me see YOU by 10 o'clock sharp"
it ram "Somcthing must be done to end
these outragls or ! shall 20 mad If the
systematic arrogance ana insufferable
iusolencc with which ain treated are not
stopped at once, | shall break my con
tract
Mr Whitman sighed.
Next he opened a business envelope
with the stamp Of well known thcater
in its upper left hand coynrr and read:
Como in tomorrow about II and let
Us talk over matters. Your star grows
moro diabolic every hour. Something's
got To be done" 1t was signed by the
manager
Mr.. Whitman Croancd.
mice. pleasant quiet morning I'm GO
Ing to have" he murmurcd as he slipped
bis coffee. what any sane man ever
goes into the theatrical business for
can't IMAGINE. If could would 90 out
now and buy cotton umbrella and then
20 and camp out in country graveyard
for the rest Of my life. Il would be 50
much more agreeable and comfortahlc.'
But Mr.. Whitman finished his break
fast and his cigar. enjoying both as long
rs possible. NOW to face the music"
he said as he set forth to walk M Broad
way to the hotel where the star whose
personal representative he was lived.
On the way he met prominent l,nn-
oger who stopped to greet him. How
are you, Whitman? How's buSnpss?'
Fine" responded the personal repre-
sentative glibly. "IIouSc packed last
night Standing room only
"lS there any truth in these rumors of
lively fight between you and the man
agcmcnt:"
Not the slightest" replied Whitman
nnblushncly. "All prompted by envy,
malice and all unchartabencsS Why,
man. who couldn't get on with Miss Law
renee? She's the sweetest natured, most
amiahlc woman
That's all right" interrupted the 9th
er. And then he cooked his eye slyly and
wicEcdly at Whitman. adding: 81 man
aged her Il season. my boy and I've got a
memory. Ia. ia"
Mr.. Whitman continued his walk. chew
ing the bitter cud of reflection. $50 he's
on" he muttercd st won't be long be-
fore all Broadway knows it. She's as
likely TO take the bit in her teeth any
minute and bolt as she is to breathe.
Wei. | don't much care. She's wearing
me out"
Mr.. Whitman waited in his stars par
i lor. From her bedroom he could hear her
yoice-tbat voice of Liquid gold" as one
n OF the best known of the dramatic critics
mad dubbed it-raispd in petulant accents.
shes in bad humor," he said and stared
gioomiIy into his hat.
Presently the door few open with a
bang' and out rushed a cyclone Of pink
SHE draperes, gilded hair, kohled eyes
and sulky lips.
You were long enough coming" she
fnmiapp'd; ITS ten minutes past 10 now.
IN aoh I say anything. I'm in no mood
!" oe th"arted or contradictcd. You have
tot TO 90 something to put an end to these
petty insults of Rutherford'S. My artis-
uc temperament cannot endure them. |
am gong to pieces. ! tell you. Why
Non ~ you say Something!
How can -" he asked. "You told
uie e.,r, TO Keep stlll.
nat was half an hour ago." she re-
'o.Ig9' ..,,. Now talk, talk"
"'Il' what's the matter now?" the
perSmhai representative asked.
mere you go, talking as if | were al