The Washington herald., 1917-02-07

! have often felt sorry for the stage
child. I think 1t is a wonderful privilege
to have been a kiddie of the fnake-believe
kingdom- Yet the majority of everyday
human beings seem to think we were a
poor. abused lot Of little wage-earners.
AS matter Of fact, really and truly
believe the child Of the stage-and !
mean the child in studio life or behind
the fcotiights-is happier and has greater
advantages than the average boy or girl
IN school. staying in one place, seeing
nothing novel to stimulate interest or
curiosity. sll running through the same
educational mold, and coming out the
same kind Of little human cookies. cut to
the same pattern. made with the same
Identical flavor of SO much arithmetic.
SO much spelling, so much geography.
When l remember my own childhood.
UP to the time / was twelve-and oh, dear.
how far back that does seem when one
gets into the teens, and has something
like sensible perspective on life-I know
| had an awfully good time. A child
loves make believe. anyway. / don't
know how tiny was when first remem-
Der dressing up.
We were In Canada, think. visiting in
a small town some distant relatives who
were, as Mother said. rather "set'' In
their ways, and looked upon the stage as
the first stepping stone to everything
that was wrong. / had been naughty, !
know. There was an adorable little
brook that ambled around the little hill
behind the house. and though It was
early April, / did want to go in pad
ding with bare feet.
The worst of having an elder sister is
that she will find out everything interest
ing and forbidden that you want to do,
and just as / was having a glorious time.
Sntad n col
catch my death of cold. So i was shut
up in the best bedroom for an hour in
punishment, and just then the rector
called.
OF course can see now that when the
minister or rector or parson calls, you
have to put your best foot foremost and
be on your good behavior. and thought
was helping the whole family out when
they dressed me up. and took me out to
meet him.
Now, of all the plays / had seen then
loved Macbeth" best, and had long
since made up my mind to be a great
tragic actress. So Lottie had helped me.
and / had learned some of Lady Mac
beth's speeches. And when the rector
said pleasantly,
We'll. my little maid, / hear you have
been in the habit Of committing poems
to memory"
dClTtsSt IOIQ MIN y.
Mother looked amused and anxious, for
the family had not thought it necessary
to spread the news broadcast.
Dear. dear" he exclaimed Isn't that
interesting. And you are going to re-
cite some nice, pretty little verse for
me, aren't your"
l can remember Just as well standing
up on a nice red plush chair and start
ing in with Lady Macbeth's long speech,
solemnly and fervently.
The raven himself Is hoarse that
croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan IN
der my battlements."
/ can always see Mothers face as l
went on. and the rectors too. straight
through the long speech to the dramtic
climax
And cloak me in the dunnest smoke of
hell.
That my keen knife see not the wound
It makes
Nor heaven peep through the blackness
of the night,
To cry hold. hold hold"'
Well. Mary. dear" Mother said later,
II don't know which was the worst.
wading in the brook and catching cold,
or acting for the rector. You've had a
very busy day.
Another time 1 did want to learn how
to swim so much. and we had been play
ing in a little town where there was a
beautiful stretch of beach. After break
fast one morning. I slipped down to
the big brown rocks. left bare and high
at low tide, and found some boys whom
had been watching from our window.
wanted to learn how to swim. and
they wouldn't let me because l was a
girl I remember standing on a rock
and crying out at them tearfully:
I'm not a girl. / don't want to be a
girl I'm a mermaid in disguise. If
you'll throw me in I'll show you I'm a
mermaid"
And the funny part was that they
tied rope around my waist and dan
gled me down into the water. just as
mother saw us from the hotel veranda,
and rescued me. 1 thought of it while
We were taking The Pride of the
Clan" when we came so near death on
the old barge.
But whenever I hear people say how
pitiful the condition of stage children
is, / want to burst out and tell them
what a world of joyous fun and make