CHAPTER SEVEN
"All work and no play makes Jack a dead one," remarked Sabrina, the Show Girl, as we met her at the appointed place. "Don't I look like the wreck of the Hesperus? Honest to goodness, I feel like nine dollars' worth of dog meat hanging out of a hospital window. Was you at the ball, also? I mean did you attend last night's festivities? Ah, me! The joy and laughter of yesterday is sure the hangover of today. I thought I would caper down to the ball last night and just see how the other half lived, and instead of being a mere obtrusive observer I developed into what you might term the main event of the evening. You see it was this way. The Chorus Girls' Union, of which I am now a member, gave a ball in commemoration of the event of the Mayor vetoing Tim Sullivan's bill about women smoking in public. It was instigated by the 'Knight for a Day' girls, because when they went to plead before the Aldermen the newspapers forgot to mention the show they were from, so that the long talk didn't do the press agent any material good, as it were. The hall was tastily decorated with pictures of the Aldermen embellished with cigarette butts and champagne corks.
"By the way, if you see smoke coming from the Knickerbocker Theatre Building, don't turn in a fire alarm, for it is just the Friars showing their good feeling by trying to smoke up all the Friar cigars and cigarettes in town.
"All of our set was there, and numerous telegrams of regret were read from the road companies. As I say, I was seated quietly in a rathskeller listening to the noise, when one of the young ladies inadvertently remarked that there was to be big doings at a nearby hall, and suggested that as she was selling tickets, it would be a good plan to buy some and go and look the affair over, not to mingle with the throng, but merely to add tone to the event. That listened very well indeed, and we all climbed into a cabbage and vamped over.
"We managed to secure a box and were seated surveying the dancers, of which there were a few, and the wine agents, of which there was a herd, until one of the said agents happened to spy our little crowd, and with that true Southern gallantry for which wine agents are so noted, he sent over a quart bottle for each one of the party, but in the excitement of the moment forgot to include glasses, so rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, metaphorically speaking, we did not mention the oversight and contented ourselves with drinking out of the bottles in true democratic spirit. Did you ever imbibe Tiffany Water direct from its native heath, as it were? No? Then let me warn you from that lurking pitfall. It has the same taste, but the effect, di mi, the effect is multiplied by six.
"All of a sudden I became inoculated with a wild desire to burst forth into song, and also with the idea that when it came to tripping the light fantastic toe I had Genee looking like the first lesson in a $5 course. With that hunch in mind I shook the rest of the mob and descended to the floor accompanied by my personal press agent. I was wearing, at the time, one of my latest importations both underneath and outside. When the band for the nineteenth time struck up the 'Merry Widow' waltz, by permission of Henry W. Savage, I capered out upon the floor, where, much to the edification of the assembled multitude, I pulled off a combination of the 'Merry Widow' waltz and Dance of the Seven Veils that will be the talk of the town until Bingham does something else foolish. Did it cause excitement! Well, say, if it hadn't been for the kindness of a friend I would at this time been pacing a prison corridor in striped pajamas.
"Honest, when I came to this morning and Estelle—that's my maid—told me what I had done, I vowed that I never would speak to a wine agent again, for I was just that mortified. After me remembering to be a lady, and then before a mob to kick over the traces and crab the act. Believe me, every time I see an advertisement for that brand of wine a blush mantles my cheeks. Sure, I can blush. See. And for tears, it's just like turning on the faucet in the bath tub. All the young creatures in our set have to be there with the blush of modesty and the tear tank, for in the heat and gayety of a wine party, when some one springs a travelling man's story if we couldn't flash a flush we would be doped out as being brazen hussies, and tears are always handy. Either for the police, the landlord or an ardent suitor. The modern girl has to be equipped for any emergency like a hook and ladder truck. But here I am giving away all our girlish secrets.
"Take it from me I'll never again gallop around the juniper bowl. I wouldn't be a lush worker like that Alla McCune for another $10,000 legacy. She's just started the habit lately. She thinks it's stylish. Sure, every time she goes out with a crowd that drink anything stronger than beer she thinks she is in society. Every time she gets a snoot full she falls in love. Fact. My, such a scene as she caused in the hotel the other evening. She doped it out this way: She was all alone, a stormy night, a bottle of Scotch and a syphon. Why not light up? Talk about your Great White Way, why, she had it looking like a dark alley in Darkest Brooklyn. Along about 6 o'clock in the evening a gentleman called to see her. As soon as he entered the portal Alla knew that she had at last met her soul twin.
"She was hanging on to the table at the time and when she let go to embrace him, instead of being clasped to his yearning bosom, as she had planned, her knees gave away and she skated on her profile across the divan. This cluck, being of a timid nature, instead of running for the ammonia, slammed the door and sprinted for the elevator. Alla, as soon as the door closed, realized that she had been jilted, and resolving not to be canned without a struggle, she threw on her pony coat over her kimono, and pinning her hat roguishly over one ear, she fled the snare and ran down eight flights of steps into the street, with two coon bell boys after her. She turned into Broadway, going like Hose No. 7, with her kimono streaming to the breeze, and ran all the way down to Rector's and into the door before she was stopped by the head waiter. The two bell boys caught up and loaded her into a cab before the police came and managed to get her back up to the hotel, though the fight she put up was a caution. Wine is sure a mocker and Scotch highballs is fierce.
"I heard from the folks in Emporia the other day and they are still talking over the time I and the two guys in the automobile pulled off. The minister sprung a long sermon on the effects of strong drink on the young and the Emporia Wasp—you know they did call it the Bee, but the guy that bought it from the Bee people renamed it the Wasp, because he got stung worse than any bee could sting—the Emporia Wasp came out with a long editorial about the profligate rich and the Attic Debating Society had a big pow-wow in the basement of the church on the subject, 'Be it Resolved, That more people are killed by strong drink than by hanging.' All this had such a moral effect on the young that the soda fountain didn't sell a claret phosphate for three weeks after. And the Ladies' Aid got so busy over Azbe Lewis, the town drunkard, that he had three proposals of marriage, but he decided to take the lesser of the evils and stick to drink. I think he ain't such a dope at that.
"Say, sniff. Can you detect the low, plaintive cry of an arnica bottle? I am learning how to skate. Yes, I fell for it. Fell for it is good. 'Course I did. All over the ice. You see it was this way. I was up to a tea one of the girls gave in honor of the judge getting a divorce from his wife—we call it a tea because there wasn't any there. We were all sitting around panning those who were not among those present, until at last one of the girls who didn't dare leave till the party broke up suggested that we go down to the park and take a skate. The hostess was real nice. She suggested that it wasn't necessary to beat it clear down there to get a skate, as she had some in the house, and if we drank that up the Dutchman on the corner knew she was good for any amount within reason. But we didn't mean what she meant, so we departed. Going down I became perhaps a little too excited over the coming event and went to some length to inform the assembled skirts that when it came to cutting ice I, not seeking to boast, but I was there, forte, and such pastimes as writing names or doing Dutch rolls I considered rudimentary in the skating number and only performed by the immature.
"I may have overestimated my ability some, for I had never been on skates before in my life, but I'm no piker and I follow that old principle of willing to try anything once, so when it came time I let the boy put the skates on without a murmur, and was assisted to the ice by about six or eight eager hands. Say, I looked out at the gang gliding about, gave the signal to let go the ropes and took the fatal step. Curtain. Say, I went round so fast both skates clinched in my marcel wave. Would you believe it, there wasn't hardly any one in sight when I started falling, but before I got through the police had to move the crowd on. The only thing I could do gracefully was to throw a faint. I turned one loose until somebody tried to force a glass between my teeth and then I came to, but it was only water, so I had a relapse. Then a nice gent kicked in with a flask and I came to. Maybe you think those artful kidders didn't hand it to me. Anybody but a lady would have lost her temper and cursed them. But I told them where to get off, and don't you forget it, but I used no language that would have led people to think I was anything but what I should be. After that I managed to skate around a little, but let me tell you, that night I got down on the floor to take my shoes off all right, but it took Estelle—that's my maid—and a derrick to get me up again. Say, it's getting late and I must be going. You know Mabel is now a bride again, and her little husband has been staying down at the club instead of loitering about the flat, so the other night when he knocked on the door to get in, Mabel said, 'Is that you, Charles?' And now she can't get him out of the house nights. You see, her husband's name is Arthur. So long."
Sabrina now falls in love with a press agent with the hectic chatter. He proposes and is accepted, and Sabrina shows her love and devotion by going his bail when he is arrested for permitting his jealousy to get the better of him in a restaurant.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Who's the guy that said "Love laughs at locksmiths?" Just show him to muh. I'll show him where he got in wrong. It's enough to get a perfect lady's goat. My Wilbur tried it the night he got pinched, and all he got was a clout on the knob from the desk sergeant and a languishing number in a prison, and I don't dare to go within a mile of the drum.
The way I caper from one tribulation to another would make a sick woman out of far stronger than me. Yes, I have at last found a man that loves me for myself alone. He's a press agent, and he hands it out so sincere that I know he must mean part of it. He's going to buy me an engagement ring as soon as he gets his expense account. He's with a Broadway musical comedy, and though he has run some of the girls' pictures, he has not made the slightest advance toward any of them.
He's been coming to see me for nearly a month. My heart went out to him the minute he said he had a stand in with three city editors.
Us actresses never get over our theatrical training. He's a quiet party, and instead of hanging about the Knickerbocker bar with the rest of the agents, he stays in the office and pounds out copy. He gave me a beautiful silk parasol that I know didn't cost him less than four pairs of seats. And all this before he asked me for my hand in marriage.
Honest, I'll never forget the night he proposed as long as I live. Not that I never was proposed to before, and some of them would have had me starred, but the romantic surroundings and all that kind of thing. It was this way: Me and him were the guests at a beefsteak party, and after the fourth drink he commenced to show me marked attention, and when we got out of the cab in front of my hotel he offered to help me upstairs, though I generally have a bellboy for that purpose, and when we had got up in my apartment and Estelle had gone to give the bellhop a quarter and the pitcher, he popped the question, and such beautiful language, I remembered it the next morning and wrote it down.
He held my shrinking little hand in his and said, "Say, Kid, you've made an awful good showing with me. Believe it, I could plant your stuff all the rest of my life, and while I ain't much of a litho myself, still I can get away with it and am the man who invented red on yellow. I can't pay for many electric signs for you, but still if you'll plant your heart in my cut-trunk I'll guarantee there won't be any excess and I'm making money enough to O.K. most of your extras.
"Listen, Party, we'll split my salary fifty-fifty every Saturday night. I got good backing in the bank, and I want you to be my little star. You angel!"
Wasn't that sweet? That word angel aroused my suspicions for the nonce, for angels are the ones who generally get lanced, but he handed it out so fervent that I knew he would make good on some of the points, so from force of habit I said, "Bring out your contract."
And with those tender words and the pitcher the bellhop had brought back we plighted our troth.
What do you know about that? I don't believe I ever before was as much in love as I am now. Why, I ain't been to see any other show but his for two weeks. Of course, I have been engaged before and handed out this eye-glistening-with-adoration gag before, but it was done only to vary the monotony of my former theatrical career and increase my income.
What! Sure I get an allowance from the fellows I'm engaged to. It's only fair. Ain't I got a trooso to buy? Te, he!
If I'd saved all the money I have been given to purchase troosos with I would have a bunch that would make Gladys Vanderbilt's layout look like a gingham wrapper. Sure, ain't it worth money to those wops to have the pure love of a good, true girl? Gee, don't make me laugh like a baby.
I was betrothed to six at one time, and the diamond rings I wore made the prima bite her finger-nails with jealousy. Oh, I had a great graft.
I had a birthday in every week stand. System? Well, I should hope so, dear.
We'd work it this way: Alla McSweeney and I were chumming together, and naturally Monday night after the show we would meet some folks. We would have a real nice time, and along about fourth highball time after the show Wednesday night Alla would whisper real confidential into one of the fellows' ear that I was going to be twenty-one Friday and "we girls" are planning to give her a little surprise, and did he want to come in on it.
Every time the Johns would fall, except in Milwaukee, and nobody ever got anything out of that town anyway. Then Alla would whisper that the company was going to present me with a loving cup because I was such a good fellow, and if they wanted to chip in now was their chance, and anything was acceptable from $5 up, and to bring his friends.
Alla would tout it up something fierce, I being totally unconscious to what was coming off.
Friday night would come around and Alla would borrow the loving cup from the property man that the tenor used in the drinking number, put it under her shawl and caper over to the appointed cafe.
I would be the center of a bunch of merry cut-ups all wanting to blow out the candles on my birthday cake.
After the wine got to flowing freely and the crowd all jolly Alla would drag out the prop and make a nice little speech on behalf of the company.
Me—you know I would be that flustered that I didn't know what to do, and when Alla would say that other people beside the members of the company had assisted I would be so gratified that I could scarce keep back the tears.
All the clucks that hadn't chipped in would feel so bad because they weren't included in my outburst of gratitude that nine times out of ten they would sneak out and try to break into a jewelry store.
Then Saturday Alla and I would do the great divide.
Take it from me, when I came in off the road that season I had a roll of the evergreen that looked like a bundle of hall carpet.
But now that I am an heiress I do not have to adopt those subterfuges in order to get the daily Java. But I couldn't work those stunts on my Wilbur; he's too wise, and being in the business he's hep to all that kind of work.
He's a good, nice, honest fellow, as press agents go, and I think I can safely trust him with my innocent heart.
If he don't—well, you know me. If he don't think he run up against the business end of a cyclone it will be because I got throat trouble and can't talk.
Honest, my fair young brow is commencing to get wrinkled trying to dope out whether I want to become a bride or lead the free and easy life of a bachelor girl.
Of course, if I get married and don't like it divorces are easy enough to get, and then being a widow saves a girl a whole lot of embarrassment, for she don't have to pretend to not understand some of the innuendoes that are now and then sprung during the modern conversations.
But, on the other hand, Wilbur isn't there with a very big fresh air fund, and by perseverance I might cop out a Pittsburg millionaire and become famous.
Marriage is worse than a lottery; it's a strong second for the show business. You never can tell.
Wilbur sure does treat me nice—he's promised that I shall be a flower girl at the Friar Festival when it comes off in May. Ain't that nice of him?
Gee, but that's going to be the grand doings.
Are you going to the ball?
Say, the round of festivities I am pulling off lately would make a person think I was a society bud.
Oh, come closer, listen. A certain party wants me to go out in vaudeville. What do you know about that? Can you see me doing two-a-day and getting in a contest with Eva Tanguay or Vesta Victoria or the Russell Brothers. I would go in a minute, though I promised mother when I quit burlesque that I would never again wear tights.
When I was in the business if I couldn't get a job on my voice all I had to do was to flash a photo taken as Captain of the High Jinks Cadets, and then—in a minute.
Flo. Ziegfield made me all kinds of offers to go in the "Soul Kiss," but the blondes were all full, and you can see me in a brindle wig?
I am willing to sacrifice nearly anything for Art, but when it comes to leaving nineteen dollars' worth of puffs in a dressing room where you can't pick your company, not for little Sabrina.
I used to have trouble enough with my number eighteen and lip stick and the bunch of near-lady kleptomaniacs that the manager made a great mistake taking on the road in the last show I was with.
Well, to get back to vaudeville, I don't know whether to do a single turn or put on a big act with a dancing scene or a prizefight in it. Those things go big nowadays.
I could get the music publishers to slip me a little on the side for using their songs, too. Of course I don't need the money, for I've got the biggest part of that ten thou. inheritance left yet; but still it would keep me busy and away from the cafes, for now all I do all day long is to roam around from one place to another imbibing booze and balloon juice.
It's beautiful billiards all right for the time being, but I always feel so on the blink the next morning.
Wilbur doesn't care; that is, he said he knew I had artistic temperament, and if I wanted to get it out of my system, vaudeville was as good as anything.
I was talking to a guy the other day that is in vaudeville, and he said that down around the St. James Building you could buy acts by the pound.
Another guy wanted to take my money and star me in a musical comedy.
Wasn't he the kind gent?
Gee, I didn't tell you how Wilbur come to get pinched, did I? Well, it was this way:
You know Wilbur is of Spanish descent even though he was born in Canarsie, and he has a very jealous disposition; so the night after I had promised to be his own little star of hope he discovered me in a certain cafe with another party. This other party was a dramatic critic and I was touting Wilbur's show, but Wilbur didn't know that, so when he saw me sitting there having the time of my young life he lost his nanny and caused a scene, forgetting this other party was a critic in his passion.
The head waiter threw them both out, and the critic, seeing the police coming, said: "This is an actor trying to lick me," and naturally the cops nearly beat poor Wilbur to a pulp.
I went down to the station house and tried to get Wilbur out, but the police were so rude that I had to tell them where to get off, and they threatened to jug me, so I slid.
Wilbur got out the next day, though, and told me over the 'phone that he loved me all the more for trying to come to his rescue. I wish they would import the Emporia police force here. I can lick him myself.
My! is it that late? Wilbur will be waiting to take me over to Childs'.
So long!
Sabrina returns to the chorus so that she can keep an apartment, a maid and an automobile without causing comment. She also talks of getting a house-boat for the summer with some girl friends and discourses on the advisability of having the wardrobe mistress for a chaperone.
CHAPTER NINE
"Virtue has its own reward and that's all it ever gets," remarked Sabrina, the Show Girl, as we met her on the street. "I am once again a wage-earner. This floating around town as one of the idle rich is all to the peaches for a while, but as a continuous performance it makes a poor showing. You know when I first became an heiress I had a call-board put up in my boudoir and a little notice pinned on it that read, 'Rehearsal, 10 o'clock to-morrow, everybody,' and then I would lay in bed all morning and make faces at it.
"Everybody had a large bunch of fun kidding me about my inheritance till I was nearly bug. Why, would you believe it? I couldn't go to dinner or riding with a gentleman friend, but some humorous dame sitting at another table would arch her eyebrows and then, if I introduced them to the gent, they would say, 'I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Suchandsuch; how are things in Pittsburg?'
"At last it got so bad that I decided to go back to work and earn my little twenty per, so that I could keep my automobile and wear good clothes without the slightest taint of suspicion on my character. With that noble end in view I started on the still hunt. Nothing doing with that traveling thing.
"I tucked my little scrapbook under my arm and sat in the waiting-room. After hanging around in there for about half an hour I would be permitted to glide into the big boss. I had a nice little monologue framed up as to my virtues—no, that's the wrong word—ability.
"None of the managers asked me what I had done, but what did I GET.
"When I called on the gentlemen by whom I am now employed he said:
'Talent? Oh, piffle! Can you wear tights?' He said that to me.
"I merely mentioned that I used to work for Mr. Ziegfeld and he hired me at once. I didn't even have to show him my picture taken as Aphrodite in a classical art study.
"I went over to rehearsal, and of all the frowsy dames I ever piped—far be it from me to knock, but they looked like a bunch of pie-trammers that had just rushed over from Child's. The stage manager was a friend of mine, and I asked him when he had started an old ladies' home, and he told me—mind you, this is the strictest confidence—that the divorce courts and the cheap rates from Pittsburg was raising Cain with the crop of merry-merries.
"I was standing over near the piano when the leading lady galloped in. Believe me the dog she put on would make you think that she had every other star looking like a twinkle, and before she landed where she is now she was leading lady for a moving picture company.
"But the comedian—honest, when he gets a couple under his belt he is just that funny—gee! I nearly howled my head off at him calling the tenor Gertrude.
"Say, he got awfully peevish and was mad enough to crush a grape when he found out that he couldn't have the 'spot' when he does his duet number with the ingenue, and when he found out that he would have to dress with the character comedian, who is a low, coarse brute, always drinking beer in the dressing room and not sharing with anybody, he got so mad I thought he would burst into tears.
"He's another of these exaggerated ego guys, every move a picture, wears his handkerchief up his sleeve and all that kind of guff.
"The funniest thing about the whole show is that the author is staging the piece, and what he don't know about the show business would make the Lenox Library look like a news stand He wanted the tenor to hold the prima so she couldn't show her rings. And that's the only thing that got her the job—her jewelry.
"We open in Hartford in a couple of weeks and then play Washington and then come in here for a run.
"Honest, the way those two towns fall for this: 'Manager Soandso is to be congratulated upon securing for his next week's attraction Mr. Suchandsuch's elaborate production of the great London success, 'The Rancid Prune,' with the following all-star cast of metropolitan favorites.' And some of them, ach, Himmel!
"I do wish that the merry Springtime would hurry up and kick in. Them can have the Winter that likes it, but not for little Angel-face; give me the summer and that 'Robins Nest Again' number.
"When the bock beer signs again wave in the breeze and the Dutchman in the delicatessen don't think you are a bug when you ask for Summer sausage; when the mint commences to sprout in the cigar box on the fire escape and all nature seems glad. I just love those trips on the night boat up the Hudson with the searchlight: shining on the trees and the ice tinkling in the highball glass as the steward comes down the deck.
"You know that I am naturally—even when sober—of a romantic and emotional temperament, but those nights I can sit and hold hands and inhale cocktails until daylight without an effort.
"And then Sundays down at Manhattan Beach dubbing around in a bathing suit—and take this from me as advance information, the bathing suit I am going to wear this year is going to chase the waves clear out in the ocean. I don't know yet whether I can wear it at Rockaway or not; it's a cinch I can't if they have another moral wave like they did last year. It's chic without being bizarre.
"And I can safely say without fear of successful contradiction that I look well in it, and if I can keep my hair from getting wet I'll be the one best bet. But if the briny mingles with my marcel wave—good night, nurse!
"One of Mr. Hepner's assistants told me that if salt water ever touched my golden tresses that the only thing I could do to keep them from turning green was to get scalped.
"A friend of mine who owns a yacht is going to send his wife and daughter on a trip to Europe, and he told me to count myself one of a party of six that are going to make a tour of all the neighboring resorts—no, not that kind—Summer resorts. Fresh!
"We had the one grand time last year.
"I never had a more enjoyable time. Just press a button and the steward was right on the job to take your order.
"Anything from a glass of hops to a Merry Widow cocktail, and you didn't have to dig once. Everything paid for ad lib.
"Ah! those happy evenings that appeal so to every true lover of Nature and well mixed drinks. To sit and listen to the lapping of the waters—and booze.
"Us girls are talking about getting a houseboat this season if we don't have to work. Of course, the chances are that it will never come off, but up to date that is the last dressing room pipe.
"We are figuring on getting a nice place within trolley distance of Broadway and then get several of our wine agent friends to stock it for us.
"We won't need much furniture—an ice box and a corkscrew are the only real necessities.
"Do you think it would cast asparagus on my character if I should reside in a houseboat unchaperoned.
"Oh, we can get the wardrobe mistress for a chaperone, but why talk shop; and besides she gets a bun on and goes to sleep in a hamper, and we girls have to pack our own bundles, and if she got soused while chaperoning the mob it would take away the otherwise proper air of refinement and leave us open to the gibes and scoffs of those who were not so fortunate as to be invited to our houseboat.
"Say, I don't want to indulge in brag or ostentation, but the gown I am going to wear to the Friar festival they are going to pull off in May is going to have some class to it.
"Wilbur—that's my betrothed—is going to be one of the main guys, and when it comes his day to get the showing keep your eye on muh.
"I think Mr. Klaw and Mr. Erlanger are just the nicest men to give the
Friars the New York Theatre for the big doings.
"You want to go. All our set will be there with their hair in a braid.
"Oh, yes; Wilbur and I are getting along just splendid. We have been engaged now for nearly two weeks and have only broken it off three times.
"I went to see 'Miss Hook of Holland' the other night and Wilbur got jealous and told me that if his show wasn't good enough for me to see without having to go to others to just come across with his ring and he would cancel the engagement.
"I, being a girl of some spirit and pride, just naturally yanked Mr.
Ring off and threw it at him.
"That made him hedge and before long we were cooing over a bottle of wine like a couple of turtle doves.
"You can't take any too much off these men. Keep 'em guessing; thats my system. And then they will walk sideways, so as to not overlook any bets.
"Take that Alla McSweeney for example. She falls in love and is always on the job, like Faithful Fido. Sits around the flat and gazes at his photo all day and from quitting time on she is there with her ear to the ground waiting to hear him get out of the elevator.
"That aint little Sabrina's graft.
"Nix. Wilbur calls up and I tell him to wait a minute and let him cool his heels downstairs for a while, and then when I do send for him to come up he is more glad to see me and manages to amuse himself in hunting for a stray glove or a handkerchief.
"And then sometimes when he calls up I am out, just to let him know that he is not the only star performer.
"That stunt keeps them at heel all the time and so busy trying to keep track of you that they don't have time to look for any other dame. So that it works both ways for the dealer, and a couple of tears will always copper any wrong play you make.
"This Beatrice Fairfax dope may be all right in the simple country maiden, but it don't go in the show business worth a whoop. You've got to be on your toes in this game and play no steady system.
"My, how I run on! Here I will be late for rehearsal and will have to give the stage manager an excuse and he will fall for it until some time I have got good reason for being late, and then he will call me.
"Say, is it considered au fait for a bride-about-to-be to do a little plugging for wedding presents this early in the game? Well, so long."
Sabrina in this chapter attends a beefsteak party and becomes involved in an argument with a certain party who was formerly her roommate but whom she left quietly and by night.
CHAPTER TEN
"Don't I look like a tea store chromo?" inquired Sabrina as Estelle, her maid, opened the door. "Oh, such a time I had! Never again will I go to see that Alla McSweeney. Pipe my dial! Get onto the scratch! There are some wounds that even powder cannot hide. It all started this way. The girls down at Wilbur's show decided to give a beefsteak in honor of the prima donna getting the can. Believe me, if they had let a hanging piece fall on her she would have got but half what was coming to her. Cat! Well, I should say so, dear. She spoiled the whole effect of that 'I'd Rather Be a Lemon Than a Quince' number just because she wouldn't let the pony girls share the spot in the picture. Honest, she caused more troubles than Louis Nethersole's English actors ever imagined they had.
"I met her socially several times, and she certainly was perfectly lovely to me. But when she got back on the stage, why, she even had the stagehands stepping sideways, and you know them. And the manager couldn't call his soul his own until he had loaded her into a cab and on her way. Wilbur told me that while on the road that between watching the panners in the box offices and keeping her from throwing a fit on the stage he got gray-headed. As for her maid, I can only say, 'Help that poor creature.' One time the maid pinched her foot while buttoning her shoe and what does the prima donna do but bounce her whole makeup box on the top of the maid's defenseless nob. And the way she looks on the street compared to what she does on the stage, that makeup box must certainly have been of some size. Of course I am not roasting the poor creature, for it may be temperament instead of temper, but I am merely stating what I have heard.
"But to get back to the big eat. The prima donna got too gay and when they struck New York the home office got wise and she wouldn't stand a cut in her salary, so they just naturally decorated her with the festive bug and told her to take a whirl at vaudeville or something else real mean. Say, when the news got out that she was to leave everybody was so happy that even the chorus men went out and bought each other a beer. What do you think of that? Well, anyway the mob got together after the performance and decided to celebrate the event in fitting and proper style by getting soused, and Alla kindly donated her new flat. Yes, the Judge caught a sleeper on Wall Street and she was in strong with the cop on the beat and the people on the floor below her had moved on account of the noise. Selfish people. They didn't want to do anything all night but sleep, and Alla complained that they were wearing out the steam pipe by pounding on it.
"After the show the whole outfit cleaned all the makeup off except behind the ears and took it on the lope for Alla's domicile. Me being the guest of honor, I naturally kicked in late. Gee! everybody of any importance was there, even some of the principals, and every other show in town sent at least one representative. Say, the drum was so crowded that some of the couples had to turn the fire escape into a conservatory. They would crawl out there and bombard the neighborhood with empty bottles, until the cop on the corner would rap and then for some two or three minutes the block would be as silent as a tomb.
"Wilbur of course was there in his official capacity as press agent, to not only add tone to the gathering, but to make sure that it reached the night desk of all the papers, for if these society guys get a column and a half they ought to be willing to slip us poor chorus dolls a couple of sticks and keep it from under police news.
"I was there to see that Wilbur did not, under the influence of the charming company, make any remarks that might be misconstrued by any of the assembled gathering as a declaration of love. For them dolls are always on the job and the only time they don't catch a live one is when their hands are tied. Jealous? What! Me? Not so you can notice it, but I ain't going to have anybody have anything on me, and while I caused no scenes, I left the impression that I had Wilbur trained so that he would roll over and play dead at the word of command. While these 'keep off the grass' signs don't do much good, still they run a horrible bluff. Did Wilbur get wise to this move on my part? Not on your life! If he found out that I was, figuratively speaking, riding herd on him, he would get chesty and all swelled up until it would be my painful duty to lance him. I don't know yet whether Wilbur is a rhinestone Billie or a Whisky amber Billie with a dash of bitters Billie, but I am On the Job Betty, all right, all right.
"Well, to get back to the beefsteak. After all the guests had assembled, which was maybe some 2 a.m., they started in. It was merely the ordinary stunt of beer and beefsteak and beefsteak and beer, but the hours were enlivened by the vaudeville performances of the guests. This was before the precinct sergeant knocked on the door. One old frump that must have been tramming a mace in the Roman Hanging Gardens got a yen that was doing imitations she had Elsie Janis and Gertrude Hoffman looking like a couple of false starts. Another took the hooks out of her marsel wave and did that time-worn stunt of 'Laska.' Then one of the chorus men gave an imitation of George Cohan, as usual. But that don't explain the scratches; does it?
"To go back sometime, there was a certain skirt that I used to room with in Chicago when we were both broke, but one night she went out with a bunch of siss-boom-ah! boys and came home with a large and juicy snoot full and spent the early morning hours in leaning out of the window of the apartment and whistling through her fingers to the milkmen, as well as staging a disrobing number in the middle of the room with the curtains up to such an extent that the inhabitants of the outlying districts had to wait sometime for their morning milk.
"This, naturally grated on my refined sensibilities, so the next morning while she was yet beating the hay, I packed my little suitcase and took it on the run away from there, leaving her, you might say, on the pan. I went into the pony ballet of a La Salle Theatre show—can you see me as a pony?—and I heard that she was advancing Art with a stock burlesque in South Chicago. That evening she was among those present at the aforementioned social function. And while we kissed and embraced each other with the affection of long lost sisters, still I could detect above the odor of cocktails an underlying current of soreness. So we clinched, but I took particular pains to see that we went clean in the breakaway.
"A young gentleman from Pittsburg was one of the guests and this creature naturally put herself forward to make him have a real nice time and, while I am true to Wilbur, still I think it my duty to be kind to every one. This Chicago party got the hunch that I was trying to beat her to this Pittsburg wop and she managed to get him in a corner and I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was making a strenuous effort to reveal some of my past, and, while I have never done anything that would cast a breath of suspicion on my spotless character, still I knew that this party would not hesitate for a minute to do some romancing, so I naturally edged over toward that particular corner as if I was not noticing myself do it, and overheard her inform the gent, that while I had the outward appearance of an innocent young babe, I was a viper at heart, and had beat it out of Chicago with some ten or twelve thousand dollars' worth of her personal jewelry.
"Shucks! All the jewelry she ever had was a diamond stickpin she bit out of a gentleman's scarf when they were going home in a cab, and all she had left of that was the pawn ticket.
"Naturally hearing the libelous remarks, I was compelled to defend myself, so I quietly interrupted her conversation by remarking lightly over her shoulder, 'Ah! I see, Laura, that you are still a member of the Arm and Hammer band, and I wish to mention in passing that the only ten or twelve thousand dollars' worth of jewelry you ever had you returned to the property man every night after the ballroom scene.'
"As for me eloping with your belongings all you ever had was a dirty handkerchief kimona, a Fluffy Ruffles skirt and a near-seal jacket, and you had to throw a chill when you entered a cafe so as not to have to take that off. If you had you would have been disgraced for life."
After those kind remarks Laura's goat naturally make a quick exit. She jumped to her feet, and with one of those 'Parted on Her Bridal Tour' expressions, said: 'It's you, is it, Sabrina; you were always noted as the Butting-in Kid. But now if you have got all of that humorous monologue of yours out of your system you can toddle right along and sell your matches, as this kind gentleman and I are discussing a few words in private and do not wish them to get all over town.'
"'Can that chatter,' said I, 'and don't forget the happy days you spent at Sid Euson's.' Right there is where I got that scratch. But I being pretty nifty with my fins gave her a cuff on the chops that she won't have to put down in her diary to remember. I was just fishing for an opening to land when Wilbur stayed my upraised arm, and I could only give her a kick on the limb with my French heel. Naturally the noise and the words attracted some attention even from that bunch; that is, it could be heard above the usual hum of conversation. The dame, knowing that I was in the right, tried to tuck the Pittsburg party under her arm and duck the dump, but Pittsburg being a game guy, stuck for the big show, and Laura loped for the 'L' alone.
"Wilbur was naturally surprised and grieved at my actions, and for a moment allowed the green-eyed monster to take up standing room in his heart, thinking that I had succumbed to the wealth of the coal dealer, but my ready outburst of maidenly tears quickly set me to rights. That was the only thing that marred the evening, except one of the girls spoke kindly to a chorus man, and he, poor fellow, threw a fainting fit and we had to force the only jig juice in the crowd between his clinched teeth before he could be revived.
"Yes, I am still on the stage, but I have got the stage manager trained so that I only have to slip him a five spot any night I fail to appear. No, there isn't much doing except that some of the girls are rehearsing for the soul kiss contest, but I personally do not have to advertise.
"What! Going? Say, on your way down tell the barhop to mix me up a life preserver in a rose glass."
Sabrina touches on the advantages of having a hotel for chorus girls and makes several comments on the dramatic possibilities of "The Mangled Doughnut," with which she is rehearsing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Say," remarked Sabrina, as we met her in front of her favorite cafe, "say, loosen up, cough, give down, come to, kick in. You've got to donate for a couple of tickets to the annual benefit of the Unemployed or Otherwise Disabled Chorus Girls' Home, and the quicker you come across the quicker your suffering will be over. Sure we are going to have a benefit that will make even the Friar Festival get up and hump itself. And you know that's going to be some show. The Chorus Girls' Mutual Knocking Society is going to build a home so that the poor doll who comes in from the high grass in her normal condition, broke, can have some place to go and rest and refresh herself without having to hock a couple of wedding rings before she can have her hotel trunk sent up.
"There's going to be fifty sleeping rooms and ninety-six maids, so that if the poor skirt wakes up in the morning feeling far from a well woman all she has to do is to tickle the zing-zing and the maid is right there on the job. There is to be nineteen sound-proof parlors with two pianos in each parlor.
"While there will be a chaperon, of course, she will permit the young ladies to entertain their friends in a quiet and ladylike manner until the porter starts cleaning up the bar in the morning. The inmates will of course be allowed to sign checks, but from visitors only cash will be accepted.
"Can you see a mob of those merry dames around that drum? Talk about your something doing every minute! Say, it will look like open time around that shack. Burlesquers are canceled. They can't come into the home. Well, they never have much of a home anyway, so they don't miss much.
"Burlesque is sure one strenuous existence. Mother made me quit. That and the doctor telling me that I would ruin myself standing around a draughty stage in tights. And besides those burlesque stage hands certainly are cruel. Why, you have to put the money right in their hand before they will beat it across the alley for a can of suds. If that ain't cruelty I don't know what is. Do they think us girls would enjoy our refreshment if we have to pay for it ourselves. Why, it hasn't got the same flavor. Do you think a girl lacks class when she puts salt in her beer?
"That home will be a great thing. Imagine going home every night without wondering if your room is locked and the landlady sitting on your trunks at the top landing. You can just flounce into your nest any old time and know that everything is right there, unless one crafty girl has bribed the chambermaid for the key. You can never tell about those people. Why, I know one girl who kept stealing hairs out of the different wigs in the dressing-rooms until she had enough to make a Dutch braid, and then she put on such a front and chest that she wouldn't speak to any of the other girls should she happen to meet them socially. I have always wanted a home, not that I haven't been offered several, but I mean a permanent one. But to continue about the benefit.
"Wilbur is going to manage it, and he expects to shake down enough to start us housekeeping, but, of course, that is strictly under your hat, and I pray you do not mention it. I think we can get Mr. Erlanger to let us use the New York Theatre if we promise not to damage the fixtures. He lets every other benefit have it and he certainly wouldn't object to a few poor chorus girls pulling off a shindy, seeing as how they did so much for his success.
"Suppose none of us had gone on in the chorus of 'Ben-Hur'? Just think what would have happened. Didn't know there was a chorus in 'Ben-Hur'? Say, what are you trying to do, kid me, or just show me a good time?
"I was around yesterday trying to get some of the oldtime merry-merry who are now some of our leading actresses to appear at the benefit, but they all threw a fit at the mere mention of the fact that they had once carried a spear. For my part I see nothing degrading in the work, even if we are held up to the gibes and chaff of some of these newspaper near-humorists.
"It certainly is an honorable calling, and if you look good from the front you can always have your pick of the menu. So that any dame that can hand out the frightened fawn glance need never starve.
"Ain't it funny the way these Johns stick their noses to the ground and start on the trail of 'the soldiers, villagers, etc.'? They'll pass up anything just to be able to stick their arm through the stage door and hand the doorkeeper a bunch of violets.
"They will leave Flossie, the belle of the village, waiting at the gate any time a burlesque three-sheet shows up on the side of the blacksmith shop. And right down front, with their feet on the base drum, handing out the coy glances before the first curtain is a foot from the stage.
"Yep, I'm still rehearsing with 'The Mangled Doughnut,' and the author of the book told me yesterday, in the strictest confidence, that it will be the best first-night performance Hartford ever saw.
"He says he expects to stay up all that night rewriting the book, but he is willing to sacrifice a few hours' sleep in the interest of Art. And for the musical numbers, as we are rehearsing forty-two songs, some of them ought to go. The only thing wrong with the show as far as I can see is that the prima donna acts like she was in a trance. It is my personal opinion—of course I wouldn't have you breathe this to a living soul for worlds—but it is my personal opinion that she sniffs the white. She either does that or jabs, though it don't show on her arm. The leading comedian is a sad affair.
"He would make a good understudy for a morgue, and that's about all. Why, I offered him suggestions for some new business in his cafe scene and he went up-stage on the run and informed me that when he desired instructions from the chorus concerning the way to handle his part he would address me in writing. I said to him: 'Far be it from me to get gay, old top, but I would respectfully suggest that you get busy with the pen and ink.' Then he was going to have me fired. Such a chance.
"He had better find out what I know about the past history of the person who hired me before he hands out any lurid language about my dismissal. I know right where I stand, and though I am one of the shop girls in the first act, instead of having my regular place as an American heiress, I know right where I stand every shake out of the box.
"Viola St. Clare is sure having the one strenuous time with her new husband. The poor dear is nearly balmy in the crumpet from worry. You see, they have been married but four long weeks, and the last three nights he has been coming home sober, and she believes he is deceiving her, so she is trying to get enough money from him so that she can hire a private detective to have him shadowed.
"They tell me that Sam Harris has to punch a time clock. I know one thing, and that is when I am married Wilbur will not be one of the leading lights of the Knickerbocker, even if I have to prance down there and drag him out by the neck. Gee, there ain't much doing in town now. Wilbur and a couple of friends are already running trial heats for the Twenty-three Club dinner, and if he ever recovers from that our engagement will be announced. I am having the photographs taken now.
"Tell me, do you think it's good form for a lady to have her wedding announcement accompanied by pictures of herself in tights. Wilbur says that it won't help me, but it will do the show a lot of good, and he says somebody connected with my show should be done good besides the manager.
"I will say one good word about our show—it has a grand first act. The other two acts may be on the cheese, but the first act is good. The author says the first act of a show is the only one that needs any attention, because it is the only one the critics ever stick for anyway. We got great scenery; the second act is made of what you might call a composite set, being composed out of all the scenery from the other failures this year.
"Did I say other failures?"
"I spoke inadvertently. 'For this elaborate production, with its all-star cast of metropolitan favorites and its famous beauty chorus,' as Wilbur says, may be all right.
"Mind you, I only say may.
"The first act is laid in a quince plantation, and the quinces of the chorus are discovered at curtain rise picking the luscious fruit. There is a naval vessel in the harbor. This was put in so the tenor could wear his white duck uniform; he had to wear something, and when the management found that he had a white duck uniform—every tenor has, you know, or he wouldn't be a tenor—when the management found that he had a uniform they took the money they had advanced for costumes away from him and rewrote the first act.
"As I say, we lemons are picking quinces or we quinces are picking lemons, any way you want to take it, and after finishing the opening chorus we rush up stage, open center, and in comes the prima donna in a pony cart—a stone boat would suit her better, but that is neither here nor there—see pony cart, chance for number by pony ballet, with six trained doughnuts—you see that's where the title of the play is introduced. That's the only time the title shows up except a duet between the leading lady and the tenor entitled 'I Had Rather be a Doughnut in Harlem Than a Butter Cake in Childs'.'
"The prima and the tenor do an imitation of the 'Merry Widow' waltz. The author didn't want that put in, but the backer of the show convinced him that nowadays every true musical comedy had an imitation of the 'Merry Widow' waltz, so he let it slide.
"After that in comes the comedian as the valet of a wealthy American just arrived on the battleship.
"He has got a great entrance. It's brought out by some plot lines spoken by two of the chorus girls that he has taken a taxaballoon from the boat and while up in the air he bites the rope of the balloon in two in a fit and falls center stage with a red spotlight on him. That's the musical cue for his song.
"'I'd Rather Be Up in the Air Than Up in the Bronx.' He has learned twenty-two extra verses and says that he will give them all if the ushers' hands hold out.
"When he is through in comes the soubrette, formerly a lady boilermaker in Canarsie, but now disguised as an adventuress, in search of the missing papers.
"She has the papers in a locket given her by her mother, but don't know it until the comedian bites her on the neck in the third act and breaks the chain, when the locket falls to the ground and the papers fall out.
"The second act is a scene in Maxim's, where the leading lady is washing dishes. That gives more comedy, with the comedian as a dish.
"The American is hiding from his wife and goes to Maxim's because he knows she'll be there. If she wasn't, shucks! There wouldn't be no show.
"He does his specialty with a piece of cheese—not the prima donna—and after that the American Beauty Chorus comes in and does a refined can-can.
"My how I have run on! I just know I'll be late for rehearsal, but don't forget the benefit. We need the money, Wilbur and me. So long!"
In which Sabrina prepares to leave town with the show, but pauses to pass a few remarks on love, comedians, murders, maids, spring millinery and the advisability of anyone marrying their first husband.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Goodbye, dear," said Sabrina, as we met her hurrying up Broadway. "Our show leaves town to-morrow. We got to get to Hartford in time for a dress rehearsal before the evening performance. My, such a time we have had. You know the comedian we had threw up the sponge at the last minute and we had to dig up another. Thank goodness, this one is a gentleman and not getting fresh with the merry-merry every time he gets a chance.
"Oh, say, was you at the Friars' Sunday Night in Bohemia a couple of weeks ago? The Friars spend every night in Bohemia or the Knickerbocker bar, so Wilbur says. But honest, this was a great stunt, seconded only by the Festival they are going to pull off in May.
"The curtain went up on what looked like a busy day in Childs', and Wells Hawks was in the spotlight, surrounded by a bevy of blondes and empty champagne bottles. They tell me that Gus Edwards had to blindfold Hawks to lead him up to the table where the empty bottles were, and as for the girls, it was with a great effort that they restrained themselves.
"All they could do was to look at the empty bottles, hold their noses and drink mineral water. Ain't it awful, Mabel? Anyway, everybody had a good time, so what care they for gibes and jeers? Many the time have I held a champagne cork to my nose, closed my eyes and dreamed that I was having a time. Well, to continue about our show. Wilbur says it will never go, because they only got block stands, and an agent ain't got no show without at least one kind of a litho. Wilbur said it hurt the artistic instinct of a billposter in these hick towns to put up all block stands, and you generally have to slip them a little something to be sure that they burn up all the extra stuff, so that the manager of the company wouldn't find it should he go snooping around the bill room when the show gets in town. He says if they get a good litho of a killing or a chorus they will go out of the way to stick them up just for art's sake. Wilbur is going to give me a suit case full of hard tickets to the Friar Festival, and told me to mace every John I came across on the road for as many as he would stand for. He said the more I sent in the more he would know I loved him. Wilbur is so romantic!
"This new comedian we got with the show is pretty good, but of course I can see defects. And the new prima donna is real nice. She asked me into her dressing-room the other afternoon and slipped me a little idea encourager that she had in a flask. But the way she is in love with the tenor, honest, it's sickening to me. She watches him from the time he comes in the theatre until the time he leaves, and then calls him up on the 'phone at his home.
"The other day when he asked one of the girls to tie the ribbon in his cuff she got so jealous that I thought she was going to give the poor kid a lam on the lamp. What she can see in that tenor is beyond me. What anybody can see in a tenor has got me guessing, for that matter. Wilbur says that's just the way with temperamental people, and he lost a job once just because he forgot to land pictures in the Sunday editions of all the newspapers in town of the manager's own particular guiding star, but planted a bunch of her dearest friend instead. He says there's no pleasing them, and the only way to have peace and harmony around the whole show shop is to print flashlights of the entire company. And even that looks like blazes, for the editor will always reduce an eight-column flashlight to a two-column cut, no matter how many drinks you buy him.
"He says he saw a murder once—was the only witness, in fact—and he took it on the run to a newspaper office and offered to trade a Charles Sommerville to the editor for a reading notice about the show, and the editor told him that they could get all they wanted from the police, and what they didn't get wouldn't hurt the public if they didn't know about it. He says if that wouldn't give the press agent art a kick in the neck nothing would.
"Wilbur says he loves his art and nothing pleases him better than to find a box office that will take his I O U. Us chorus have been sure working hard the past week, and Ben Teal has been just that kind and gentle, and didn't put a one of us on the pan. We certainly have got some lovely costumes; they ain't much to them, but what there is is beautiful. They smell a little of camphor, but they have been packed away in hampers ever since last season, and that accounts for it.
"I got a fine scene with the comedian and should score a great personal triumph. All of us girls are lined up for his entrance in the second act, and when he comes in he walks right over to me and says: 'Ah, little one. How are you on the Queen's wedding day,' 'Queen's wedding day,' that's my cue, and I say, 'Very well, thank you kindly, noble sire.' Aint that great? It takes nearly a whole side. I was rehearsing it in my apartment this morning with Estelle, but she was so rotten as the comedian that I took away the last $5 I gave her for a tip.
"These menials have no talent in their souls. Estelle, that's my maid, says she has no desire to elevate the drama, and she had rather be a maid for a chorus girl any time—there's more money in it. She may be right at that.
"Alla McSweeney is going to start a New Thought Church. She says that she has a whole flock of new thoughts and it would be quite fashionable to start this new think stunt. She said she would tell us her new thoughts if she thought we would never breathe a word to a living breathing soul. Gee, that lets our gang out.
"They couldn't keep quiet if it killed them. Honest, for a bunch of knockers, perfect both in single handed knocking and team work, our set has anything bound to the bannister in New York.
"But what care I? Spring is coming and we will all soon hike to Bath Beach. Honest, for a country place with all the conveniences of home Bath Beach is the top liner. You can put a can under your shawl and rush a couple of blocks and always get it full of the best, and if you put butter around the side of the pail the barkeep ignores the fact and goes right ahead.
"I may get a motor boat this summer if Wilbur gets his summer snap at the island.
"Coney, I mean, not Blackwell's.
"He has never been over there except to take flowers to the Poillon sisters. They love nature so. Charlotte says it makes her homesick every time she sees a Joy Line boat go by.
"The benefit season will soon open and any person that has a couple of thousand dollars to pay for a theater can git a benefit for himself and maybe draw down a couple of hundred more. The benefit for the chorus, girls has gone up in the air, for none of them would acknowledge that they were chorus girls.
"They were either show girls or pony dancers, and that let them out. Anyway, each girl wanted to bring her maid, and the dressing rooms would have been so full of maids that there would have been no room for the dolls. I had it all framed up, too. I had six wine agents and a whisky salesman who guaranteed to appear, and that alone would have made the thing a financial success. But what could I do?
"Our bunch has been rehearsing five weeks without salaries, and with the excessive taxicab rates we got no money to spend on clothes to wear to the ball, and the wardrobe mistress keeps an awful tab on the costume hampers.
"A certain friend of mine, who, by the way, I wouldn't trust any further than I can throw an elephant by the tail, had the nerve to take me up in her apartment the other day and show me her new bathing suit she had just imported from Paris. It was a swell thing all right, but sewed in the waistband was a piece of cloth that said 'Burgomaster 2' on it, so you can draw your own conclusions.
"Honest, the way some girls steal is something awful. Take it from me, it's nothing less than stealing to swipe a wardrobe. Of course, if the show is going to close it's all right, but from a successful production, never. Lifting a scarfpin from a soused party is all right, for he is supposed to do something to remunerate the lady for wasting her time by taking her to supper.
"Spring has sure come and I do just glory in nature. I suppose that is because I was brought up in the country. We never have anything but nature in Emporia.
"Oh, I heard from the folks the other day, and they tell me that Emporia is now growing to be some town. The bank is putting up a four-story brick building, which is going to be looked on as the village skyscraper.
"The town council has already passed resolutions restricting the height of the buildings to six stories. They ain't going to take the chance that New York does, and have some of these big tall ten-story affairs topple over into their streets.
"All the yaps out in that neighborhood are lining out for the spring plowing now while the yaps here are lining out for the spring millinery openings. I already got the dressmaker on the job for seven or eight modest little frocks that will make them sit up and take notice Sundays down at Manhattan Beach.
"I have decided that I am going to be an athletic girl this summer, and am already taking exercise every day. Why, I walk all the way from the subway to the hotel, and that's nearly half a block.
"Say, what do you know about this? Posey Golden has married her first husband.
"Honest! You know they were divorced shortly after she got a good job, and have been living apart ever since.
"She married again to the nicest gambler you ever met. But he got stung on a sleeper, and had to hock the family jewels, and Posey said that was cruelty, for she could never have the face to go down to the dining room for breakfast without all of her diamonds on; she had worn them every day since they struck the St. Reckless, and she was afraid it might cause talk among the waiters and guests because she always treated them with a calm air of condescension, and they would lay for the chance to get in a hammer. So she put in a bid for a divorce and got it.
"Then she met her first better half on the street and, after having a little supper, they decided to sneak through the tunnel, take it on the run for Newark and again become one.
"Imagine anybody going to Newark to get married! Imagine any one going to Newark for anything!
"They got married and came back to town just as happy as if nothing had ever happened. My, I hope Wilbur and I will be that way! I think he is sincere even if he does write good notices about girls in his show.
"Well, I must toddle along and see if Wilbur has cashed his yet, so that I can get the rest of that new hat. If it ain't too much trouble you can send me a bunch of flowers for our opening night in Hartford. So long."
The show gives its opening performance and Sabrina scores a great personal success. She speaks at some length of the kissing craze and makes several comments on the time she had while out of town.