The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1911-01-26

r. - AlCS IL hUIduuS <1AdlloE II IiOIIleS, SdCIll
marking a stage in the personal n dra-
matte development Of that most popular
American actress. / have successfully Wis
TIED and each has registered its distinct
and different impression of her growth.
The first was a wee brown suite which
those nearest her. a~ffectionately named
1.-THE Rookery." 1t was the Nest she oc-
cupied at the stage Of her arrival in
New York. From it she came forth to
delight the metropolis with her p%iquant,
winsome Lady Babbbe.
The second, a steadily growing farm az
R~onkonkoma, Long Island, was her Re-
ward. 1t was the success of 1.-THE Little
Minister" crystalized into real estate.
Lady Babbie walked there amidst the tam
gible evidence of her success.
The third was her Comfort House, a
New York brownstone front for which she
longs nightly during an exhausting sea-
son of travel. Her purchase of it coin
cided with her production Of Quality
Street" THE TESTERS" Peter Pan" and
"What Every Woman Knows"
/. THE Rookery."
1t happened that the fortunes, or mis-
fortunes, of the seeker for a. home in New
York led me to take up abode in a brown
stone house opposite the Lambs. The
Lambs were noisy n%eighbors, given to
song from midnight until dawn or past.
In the summer, when windows were per-
force open to their fullest capacity, De
Wolf Hopper's big tremolo shook itself
into our easements and beyond. Irrstated
sleepers turned p~etulantly over tnNbed and
grumbled, DE Wolf Hopper's put Casey
at the bat again." invoked their patience
al tried once more to fall into" siumber.
Much was forgiven to the reVelers, be-
cause they We're Lambs, and Lambs in
New York's Bohemia can do no wrong.
THE hpiIca wa IN Urbirtv-Siyth street half
way between intensely aristocratic Fifth
avenue, on the left, and intensely demo-
cratic Sixth avenue, on the right. 1t was
a three-story house approached by a
broad fight of steps. Its mistress was a
dressmaker and in the rather damp base
ment a dozen young women worked by
electric lights. The first floor was occu-
pied by the dressmaker and her family.
The second and third floors We're let to
Ethel Barrymore, John Orew's other
niece, Georgia Mendum, Ida Conquest, and
other actresses who found temporary
abode and the services of a dressmaker
under the same roof. On the top floor
dwelt Miss Adams, with her secretary and
her maid. Sometimes her mother, Mrs.
Annie Adams, paid her a visit. The nest
was a small one and usually crowded, for
1t had but four rooms.
Lady Rabbie In Her Nest.
Miss Adams chose this high nest be-
cause she likes and needs scholastic 81
mage. she maintains an intense quiet. by
herself setting the example Of soft-footed-
ness and low-voicedness.
The stairs stopped short, after the minia-
ture mountain climb, before the door of
her bedchamber. 1t was a small, square
room at the rear Of the house. Its one
large window opened upon a yard as bar
ron ne o1ypht nvonpf a1nfhoc. ltrac orI
empty tin cans as the average New York
fu~rnished-room house. Between her and
the nd-infatuated Lambs was a room
that was library and, wnen she required
1t, dining room. In this room she studied
and within call was her secretary, who
occupied the small room at the right of
the library, where the door was always
ajar: and she could be m by a
rise of one note In the voice os her
studious young employer.
Once running up from my room beneath
to return a book I found the relations of
the two reversed. Miss Adams was serv-
Ing. Her secretary was being ministered
unto, for that young woman lay upon a
couch before the open fire and the young
actress was bathing her employees aching
head with pungent hartshorn. Time was
when these relations were more frequent
ly reversed. Finally. Miss Lillian Flor
ence, the intelligent young English woman
Of an old theatrical family, had to be left
behind when Maude Adams set out on
tour. The fatal illness that had crept
into her being, demanded its own. She
died in the acrtess's home.
This eyrie had three attributes to be
found in all Maude Adams homes. They
were dull, quiet colors, bookseller homes
are always crowded with them-and an
open fire. These three are to her neces-
stiles.
e.. - ~ M -.--t
Ing shelves crowded with books. volumes
of history and poetry, and plays. plays,
plays. Nothing that Moliere wrote but
had a place on those shelves. Beside them
were volumes of the ascetic philosophy
of Pascal.
"a charming evening at home for
Maude Adams meant sitting beside that
fire in a low chair with a book upon her
knee. If her companion were apprecia-
tive she read aloud in a low voice, with
singing notes In it, from Herbert Spen-
Ger.
It was while sitting thus-the open fire
she finds a stimulus for thought, a SYM
Dol Of aspiration as Of comfort-that she
told Charles Frohman her judgment Of
the Barrie play, Peter Pam"
DO you think you would like to play
tt?" he asked.
Like" she answered, IT will play It,"
At the DIminutive Dining liable.
There was IN the little brown library.
which was the nucleus for what has be-
rome one of the finest private libraries in
America. a small round table that stood
usually IN the corner behind a screen be-
cause the thought of physical food sub
tracted from the thought of mental nour-
lshment. This was the dining-tahle and
by no crowding could more than four sit
about it. Miss Adams thought this the
right number for comfort. Usually she
and her secretary lunched or dined there
alone. On her mothers visits, when the
brown damask-covered divan was utilized
for the secretary and Mrs. Adams occu-
pied her room, there was a third at the
table. Now and then a pretty sad-faced
little widow, one Of Miss Adams proteges,
drank tea with them. More rarely Mrs.
Thomas Hastings, who was Miss Helen
Benedict, daughter of the banker chum
of President Cleveland, enjoyed the nov
slty &C pot-lucs-. and indoor p!cknicking N
the quaint apartment.
In this little room the taste of Lady
Babbie and Peter Pan for the old in fur
niture was apparent. Seats, small to con-
form to the restrictions Of the anart-