The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-03-28

Below stairs two actors in stiff, artificial boards paraded the basement between property trunks and costume baskets In normal life these two men were bosom friends Now they passed and repassed with out seeing each other mumbling to themselves Only once did they speak:
 What time is it now Ned?"
 TWO minutes past eight, Sam'
 Getting nearw Shake of the head
 That's rght!" SickIy smile
 And they recommended their march. It always surprised me to find old stagers nervous before per formance These men were always neryous For three hours each evening the palms of their hands were wet from excitement. Their livelihood depended on their regulations. They nothing else Small saar1ed character actors half the time wait 1ng waiting, waiting at Broadway corner And by what slender hair is suspended the sword of. public opinion! And what tragic capers do dramatic writers amusing their readers play with the market value of the services of these men!. How henless they are: Is it any wonder that this tal strong mans voice shook when he said, 'Its getting near'
 Tn one of the cell-like dressing rooms rustic of silk; the door was thrown open.
 Whew" said stout woman. agasp for air.
 It was the married woman had often seen potter ing over tea basket the of the mothery voice. Now she resplendent in the paste iewelry and the high. white wig of modern French countess Her manuscript was propped against the mirror and she too mumbed as she applied the rabbits foot to cheek and dusted little pOudre de rts upon her dark locks where they showed beneath the wig
 Next door was l. face enclosed in Nihilist whis- kers My nose had partly resumed it's normal size and color, but still smoldered. angrily rich plum purple It certainly went" with the whiskers I knew my part backward On the night previous had amused Christie and myself by beginning with the last word on the last page and recitng back to my entrance.
 Second act!' announced the call boy, tapping at my door. s 1#
 Up to that moment had been fairly calm. Now thrill went through What my first word? had forgotten it. could think of the last word in any speech wanted but the opening phrase was writ 1n water. That's what got for being funny and learning the part backward. With apprehensive fin gers fumbled the open and hastily reread the part, emphasizing the first word in each speech Oh. if could but write the whole thing in shorthand on my cuff and take it with me! But alas! bade goodby to the printed lines, gave them final hand snake and tore myself away At the top of the stairs what was my first word? Gone agan! Good heav- ems! With my heart suddenly palpitating I rushed pack to my dressing room, caueht up the precious manuscript and pinned the doubtful speeches on the scenery near my entrance Then retiring to an ob- scure corner, patted myself the diaphragm and said
 "Ah-h-h-!" An octave lower: "Ah-h-h-!
 There was a hole in the curtain for counting the audience I walked up to take look. Bending down. much to surprise-let me say horror for it was an uncanny thing-I found looking in at me! drew back with start Had person. in the audience climbed the stage to steal squnt at the wheels? But the lights in the house Ab- surd He'd make monkey of himself Boldly advanced for another solution. The eye was still there. From behind litter I turned There three stage hands giving living picture of the Laoc0on. only theirs was agony of SUD- pressed mirth. I feigned not to notice, put my in the air, and again bent to the curtain. It my eye bit of mirror the size of dime had been let into the The real lookout at the other end of the stage
 "I buy!" I laughed.
 The music stopped.
 Clear p commanded the stage manager.
 We scurried out like rabbits.
 buzz in the loft and the curtain rose. heard the voices on the stage intonng the familiar lines with emphasis and fire. This a real play now, very real and serious proposition. The critics were out in front and ten thousand dollar produc- tion was at stake. Chicago had come to pass judg-