Arizona republican., 1905-05-28

fusive. polite, and, bustling with inn portance, took the young man down a side aisle to a door, and up three stairs to a passage leading behind the wings. Admeh was shown into tiny dressing room whose scraw1ed plaster walls were half cov- cred with skirts, waists and properties of all kinds. The little ma eician was in front of her makeup ta- ble. dabbling at the rouge pot. The doorkeeper introduced the visitor, then discreetly withdrew, closing the door after him.
 At her discovery by this audacious representative of the press, Maxie was all smiles and blusbes. She was still but little more than girl, although not quite so young as she had appeared oe- fore the footlights, and more naive and embarrassed than one would have ex- pected of such a determined little ac- tress. She offered Admeh her own chair. the ouly one in the room, but he seated himself upon trunk and began the conversation.
 All his tact was necessary to put her at ease and induce her to talk. The hero of Pago bridge was, by no means, too ready with his tongue, usually, in the presence of a woman, but there was something in the touching admir- ation she betrayed for him as a news paper man that prevented him from be- ing bashful He thought the brotherly attitude to be the proper pose, under the circumstances, and he led her on talking of the theater, the weather, her costumes and himself, while she sat awkwardIy conscious of her violet tights, which she slapped nervously with a little whip. His careless, friendly way at last gave her confidence, for he asked her few questions and did not seem to expect clever replies. Before long she had thrown off all reserve and chatted freely with him.
 The Biograph Theater kept open, as a rule, as long as it could secure pat ronage. The night stragglers kept coming in, so that the four artists" and the picture machine in the room below still went through their weary routine. As the conversation proceed ed. Maxie left at times went through her act and returned, finding Admeh always ready to put her upon the thread of her story.
 So, by bits and snatches, by repeti- tions and parentheses, in an incident here and a confession there, this is about the way Admeh Drake heard that night, in Maxie Morrow's dressing room.
 I can't really remember when was l not acting, and I have no idea who my parents were, or where l was born, or when, or anything. I think, though | I must be about 19 years old, though don't look it, and I have decided upon | the first of July for my birthday, be- cause that's just the middle of the year and it can't possibly be more than six months wrong. I used to go on in ] child's parts in London when I couldn't have been more than 4.
 Then the next thing I remember was with a company of Swiss bel
 ringers, and we travelled all through
 the English provinces. I used to sing 1 and dance in between their turns, anC
 I tell you it was hard work, practicint
 all day and dancing all night almost
 We were all fearfully poor, for w | weren't much of an attraction. I haC
 only one frock beside my stage cos | tune and that one was so patched | was ashamed to go to the pork shop
 even, with it on. I was a regular littl'
 slave to old Max, who ran the company | and had to help cook and wash tn
 dishes in the lodgings we took in tn little towns.