Los Angeles herald., 1910-02-25

called Antony faced Brutus to give
| his answer.
"In your bad words, Brutus, you
! give good words. Witness the hole you
made in Caesars heart, crying Long
/ live Caesar were the lines of Mr..
1 James as he faced the army of Brutus
and threw out his shield so that only
| the edge was visible to the audience.
| There was no loss Of strength or dig
nifty in the manner of the recitation,
! but there, before all of us of the BrutuS
| host. was the inner side of the shield,
and there, carefully pasted in to make
| a fine fit, was the picture of the ballet
dancer. They had to ring down the
curtain before Shakespeare intended
| that it should be-and the audience ap-
plauded.
"Then there was Mr. Mansfield. He
was a hard man to get along with but
| he had a kind heart behind it all. L
remember one morning in Indianapolis.
| was stage director of the company
and we had been playing Monsieur
| Beaucaire.' 1t is the home of Mr.,
Booth Harrington, the author, and
after the play on our last night he took
us to the club for dinner
1--WE had a good time-that goes
without saying, for Harrington is a
royal good fellow-and the next morn
ing a messenger boy hustled up to my
room and told me they were holding
our. special train for my benefit.
'I got to the train before things
were too bad, and after 1 had fairly
! caught second wind and rubbed my
| head few times 1 went to the man
ager and said: Where's my breakfast 2
The property man ate your break
fast. l guess, about an hour ago, was
the gruff rejoinder. You might send
on to railroad junction and order a
cup of coffee. May have to send 1t out
on a handcar and he started to back
away.
Ct guess I'll go into the old mans
private car and take breakfast with
him. l suggested, without thinking,
and I rubbed my head again. And then
1 heard the manager softly whisper
ing to the other members Of the COM
pany that Warde was going in to see
! the old man-that was the pet name for
Mr.. Mansfeld-and breakfast with him
| by special request. 1 had to do it or
| lose out. It was a hard game but I'd
started to play and had to finish.
II went back to the private car of
! Mr.. Mansfield and the negro cook met
me Just inside the door. Can l get a
! cup of black coffee this morning" l
suggested in a very low tone. Yes,
| indeedy; yes, 1ndeedy, TlSHI away, SdIl'
Marse Warde,' was the genial answer
'Jes step this away
! II went into the observation end OF
the car, but that conversation had
aroused Mr.. Mansfield. Who's there
| Who's there?' he called, and his head
| appeared around the corner.
| 81 told him the truth and this was
the answer: why not sit down and
! take breakfast with me, Mr.. Warde2
Would be pleased to have you
'I did, and my negro friend brought
in steaming hot breakfast fit for the
gods. Then there came a twinkle into
| Mr.. Mansfield's eyes. Isn't there some
thing else we can give you? Is there
anyone you care to see in the COM
pany?
THAT was my cue. I wish you'd
call that manager. 1 just want him to
see me here eating this breakfast. You
might ask him just when we are sched-
uled to get into Milwaukee and how
long we are to be switching in Chi
cago.'
HE did it; snarled at the manager
as though he had never been known
to do a kind thing in his life; laughed
about it with me when it was all over
and l strutted back into the other
Pullman with a consciousness of work
well done, such as 1 have seldom
known. That manager was good to
me for a long time