Some
people might have thought a marriage like this a bit of a hygienic
risk, but Florence always had a heart of gold.
I have often thought this possession to be a particular attribute of
the theatrical profession. Bessie Bean, the "Cocoa Queen," possessed
it in a marked degree. I remember we called her the "Cocoa Queen"
because she always fancied "a drop of something comforting" just
before the curtain went up on the Third Act. Only, unfortunately, it
wasn't cocoa.
Arthur Batchen, manager of the Fly-by-Night Theatre and one of the
best fellows that ever breathed, told me once he thought the soda
must get into Bessie's legs. But her dresser was positive about her
instructions always to forget the soda. So I don't think it can have
been that.
I remember too--
[For the continuation of this interesting series of reminiscences
see to-morrow's _Evening Cues_.]
* * * * *
A LOST LEADER.
(_OR, THOUGHTS ON TREK._)
The men are marching like the best;
The waggons wind across the lea;
At ten to two we have a rest,
We have a rest at ten to three;
I ride ahead upon my gee
And try to look serene and gay;
The whole battalion follows me,
_And I believe I've lost the way._
Full many a high-class thoroughfare
My erring map does not disclose,
While roads that are not really there
The same elaborately shows;
And whether this is one of those
It needs a clever man to say;
I am not clever, I suppose,
_And I believe I've lost the way.
Pages:
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30