CHAPTER XVI

AND LAST

“Hush! Come away!”—_The Wilderness._.sp 2

So I come to the end, so far as one can come to the end of recollections and memories, for each one brings with it many others; they crowd in upon me as I write, and I have to be very firm with myself and shut the door in the face of many.

I have tried to tell you some of the incidents which have amused and interested me; I have tried to make you see men and women as I have seen them; and have tried to make you walk with me down “life’s busy street”. I have tried to pay the tribute of affection and regard to the various “Cæsars” I have known, and if in this book any names are missing—names of men and women who have been, and are, my very dear and good friends—I can only tell them that they are not missing in my heart.

I look back over the years that are past, look back to the time when I first came to London, and looked on “leading ladies” and “leading men” as giants who walked the earth, when I used to wonder if I could ever hope to be one of them; and then, it seemed with wonderful swiftness, the years flew past and, behold! I was a leading lady myself. That is one of the wonderful tricks life plays for our mystification: the far-off hope of “some day” becomes the realisation of “to-day”.

To-day, as I sit writing this, I can look out on the garden of “Apple Porch”—the house that Harry and I almost built together; the garden which we turned, and changed, and planted, to make it what it has become, “our ideal garden”. And in that garden ghosts walk for me—not “bogeys”, but kindly spirits of men and women who lived and laughed with us as friends; not that in life all of them walked in this garden of ours, but because now they come to join the procession which moves there. With them are many who are still with me, and whose companionship still helps to make life very happy. They join the others, and walk in my garden, to remind me of the times we have laughed together, and to assure me that life in the future still has good things for me.

For, make no mistake, youth is very wonderful, youth is very beautiful, but it passes and leaves behind, if you will only try to cultivate it, something which can never pass away: that is the youth that is not a question of years, but of humanity and a young heart. If you can still feel the delight of the first primrose, if you can still feel your heart leap at the sight of the leaves throwing off their winter coats and showing the first vivid green of the spring; if you can stand in the glory of a sunny day in March and thank God for His annual proof of the Resurrection, the re-birth of what all through the winter had seemed dead and is “now alive again”—then you are one of those whom the gods love; you will die young, for you can never grow old.

So, in my garden, the procession of ever-young people passes.

Over in that far corner is Herbert Lindon, sitting at an easel, painting a picture of the house. “A plain man, my masters”, but the kindliest of friends, with the most helpful nature in the world. Behind him stands Forbes Robertson, with his beautiful face, his wonderful voice, and his courtly manners. Had he lived five hundred years ago, he would have ridden out, dressed in shining armour, to fight for the Right against the Wrongs of the World; but, dressed in the clothes of 1923, he is still a knight, the instinctive supporter of the weak against the strong, the good against the evil.

Lawrence Kellie passes my window, a cigar in his mouth, and pauses a moment to tell me that he is going in to play some of his own compositions, to my great delight. On the golf links, outside the garden, I can see Charles Frohman, looking like a kindly “brownie”; he is flying a huge kite, so big that he might be in danger of flying after the kite, were it not for two small boys, Jack and Bill, who are holding fast to his legs.

Arthur Collins, very spruce and dapper, passes with E. S. Willard; they tell me they are going to persuade Frohman to leave his kite-flying and come in to play poker with them and Fred Terry.

Fred Terry stops outside the window for a talk with me, and reminds me of the winter he came to stay with us here, when Harry would insist upon his going out, in a biting east wind, to see “the beauty of the night”! I ask him if he remembers the Bank Holiday when he was with us, when Harry had to go back to a rehearsal of some approaching production? How he (Fred) was taken ill with a bad heart attack, and that, rather than let me see how he was suffering, for fear the sight should frighten me, he shut himself up in a room and refused to let me enter. Fred Terry, large and genial, wearing eye-glasses, moves away, and I see him stop to speak to Lottie Venne, who on very high heels, looking like a very alert, very “wide awake” bird, is coming towards us, her heels tapping on the stones of the path.

That gentle-looking woman over there is Marion Terry, and with her Lena Ashwell, talking, I am certain, of some plan or scheme which she is preparing to “carry through” with her extraordinary capacity and originality.

You see that squarely built man yonder, who looks—what he is—a sailor? That is Ernest Shackleton. He comes over to me, bringing his book with him. He shows me the title—one word, _South_—and asks if I think Harry will consider making it into a film-play. I tell him that the day England publicly mourned his loss in St. Paul’s Cathedral, during the service a sudden ray of sunlight came through one of the painted windows and struck the wall, just under the dome; how I followed it with my eyes, and saw that it fell on the words “The glory of his works endureth forever”. I think he smiles a little, and says, as Englishmen do when praised for what they have done, “Oh, I didn’t do anything very great or glorious.”

Here is a man who, too, has done great things. An explorer also, but he has explored the depths of humanity; he has seen just how far his fellow-men and women can fall, and yet he still retains his faith in “the good that is in the worst of us”. It is W. T. Waddy, the Metropolitan magistrate. Burns’s prayer that we should “deal gently with your brother man, still gentler sister woman” has no application to Mr. Waddy; he “keeps the faith” that believes that fundamentally humanity is good, and each day in his work he testifies to it. I remind him that it was his father, Judge Waddy, who first escorted me to the House of Commons.

Over there is “Billy” Congreave, who gained the Victoria Cross and made the Great Sacrifice in the war. With him, telling his battles over again, is Dr. Leahy. He left his leg at the Marne, but that did not prevent him enjoying, as he does still, a round or two with the gloves. I should think he “enjoys” it more than his opponent, for “Micky” Leahy is an enormous man. He appears to be the last man in the world likely to possess, as he does, wonderful gifts of healing.

Who is that woman laughing at some joke made by the man walking with her? She is Dame May Whitty, and the man is Sir Alfred Fripp. You see him at his very best when surrounded by his wife and ’a large family of very healthy children. She, Dame Whitty, is a friend of thirty years, and her affection and goodness to me have never altered.

The woman who has just joined them is Susanne Sheldon. I parody the saying, “better twenty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay” when speaking of Suzanne, and say “better one day of Susanne than a month of the people who lack her understanding and great heart.” Some day go to the Children’s Hospital in Great Ormond Street, and hear of the work she has done there; they will tell you more than I can, for she does not talk of all she does.

The lame man, who looks so fierce, is Sydney Valentine. He looks fierce, and rather as though he had more brain than heart. His looks belie his nature. He leans on his stick by my window, and we talk of the early days of the Actors’ Association. I remind him of the splendid fight he made to gain the Standard Contract for the acting profession. I ask him, “Do you remember the Lyric Theatre meeting?”, and I add some hard things about the people who attacked him there. He smiles, and reminds me of our own Suffrage motto (and how he used to hate the Suffrage Movement, too!), “The aim is everything”, and adds “After all, we won our battle, didn’t we?”

J. L. Toole, coming up, hears the last sentence, and asks, “Battle, what battle?” Just as I am about to answer, he pops a “bullseye” into my mouth, as he used to years ago when I was playing with him on the stage. Toole laughs, and I laugh with him; but our laughter is checked by a tall man, with a heavy moustache, who, with a melancholy face, is filling a pipe from a tobacco-pouch like a sack—and not a very small sack, either! He brings an air of tragedy with him, and I ask, “What is the matter, Aubrey?”

It is Aubrey Smith, the “Round the Corner Smith” who took the first English cricket eleven to South Africa, and still, when his work on the stage allows him, will rush away to Lords or the Oval to watch a match. “Haven’t you heard?” he asks; and adds, “Dreadful, dreadful; I don’t know what England’s coming to.” “What _has_ happened?” I ask again. He looks at me sadly and tells me—“England has lost the _Test Match_!” He wanders away, and a few minutes later I hear him laughing—a laugh which matches him for size. He is probably telling the woman he is talking to (Elizabeth Fagan) of the new pig-styes he has built at West Drayton.

There is Marie Tempest, and how fascinating she is! She has the cleverest tongue and the most sparkling humour of any woman I know. The woman near her is Julia Neilson, a dream of loveliness, and with a nature as lovely as her face. There, too, are Lady Martin Harvey and Lady Tree—Lady Tree, whom I first understood when I met her under circumstances which were very difficult for us both; and who showed me then what “manner of woman” she is, so that ever since I have loved and admired her. And Nell Harvey, who can face the rough patches of life with equanimity, and who can “walk with kings” without losing that “common touch” which gives her the breadth of vision, the tolerance, and kindness which have made her ever ready to give help to those who need it.

This man coming towards me, his hands clasped behind him, who looks as if he were meditating deeply, is Sir Charles Wyndham. When he was playing in London, and Harry was a very young actor in the provinces, and had heard of but had never seen Charles Wyndham, one paper said it was “a pity that Mr. Esmond has tried to give such a slavish imitation of the great actor”. He stands for a moment to ask me if I remember the evening he came to see _The Dangerous Age_, and repeats again his admiration and praise of the play. I tell him that I remember, also, how after the play he sat in Harry’s dressing-room for an hour and a half, delighting both of us with his stories of the stage, “past and present”.

He passes on, and you see him stop to speak to Anthony Hope, that delightful man who possesses a manner of joyous cynicism of which one never tires. George Alexander has joined them, perhaps speaking of the success of _The Prisoner of Zenda_. You notice his beautiful white hair. Once, in _The Wilderness_, he had to darken it, and as in the play he had to lay his head on my shoulder, my dress was gradually marked with the stain he used for his hair.

I stand and reach out to shake the hand of Lewis Waller, and ask him if he is still “putting square pegs into round holes”. He asks, in his beautiful voice that was the salvation of so many really poor plays, what I mean. I remind him of a play, many years ago, when Harry remonstrated with him and said that some of the parts in the production were played so badly, adding “Why _do_ you engage such people? they are not, and never will be, actors”; and how Lewis Waller replied, “I know, I know, Harry, but I would sooner have round pegs in square holes than not have people round me who love me.” Dear Will! He moves away, speaking to this person and that person, and giving to each one something of his very gentle and infinitely lovable personality.

That beautiful woman, surely “God’s most wonderful handiwork”, to whom Will is speaking now, is Maxine Elliott; she is Jill’s God-mother, another of the lovely women whose faces are only the mirrors of the natures which lie beneath.

The sound of the piano reaches me, and I look to see if Lawrence Kellie is still playing, and have to look twice before I can believe that it is not he who sits playing, but Raymond Rose, who is so wonderfully like him. Perhaps he is at work composing, not this time for His Majesty’s Theatre, but, like Henry Purcell, for “that blessed place where only his music can be excelled”.

Then the gate at the end of the garden opens, and, carrying a bag of golf clubs, and clad in an old coat and equally old trousers which seem to be “draped” round his ankles, comes Harry. He comes up to the window, full of the joy of life and never-ending youth; leaning his arms on the window-sill, he looks at the men and women in the garden, and smiles.

“Our friends,” I tell him.

And he repeats after me, “Yes, our friends.” After a moment he goes on, thoughtfully: “I used to tell you that ‘Friendship was a question of streets’; I think I was wrong: it’s something more than that.” And, as if to prove his words, we both see Malcolm Watson walking in the garden, the kindly Scot, who never fails anyone, a real friend of countless years.

“I think it is—something more than that,” I answer.

As we talk, the sun suddenly blazes out, filling all the garden with light; Harry stretches out his hand, smiling, and says: “Sunshine! Let’s go out!”

* * * * *

So the dream ends, but the garden and the sunshine remain; and not only the garden and the sunshine, but the knowledge that “these are my friends”; that these men and women have known and, I think, loved me, as I have known and loved them; and the fact that they have been and are, many of them, still in my life, making the world a finer and cleaner place in which to live.

That is how I should wish to look back on life: not always easy, or smooth, or always happy, but with so much that has been worth while, so much that has been gay and splendid.

Gradually everything falls into its right perspective; things which seemed so important, so tragic, so difficult “at the time”—why, now one can almost look back and laugh. Not everything: the things which were rooted in beliefs and convictions do not shrink with the years; and I am glad, and even a little proud, that I lived through the time which held the Boer War, the Suffrage Campaign, and the Greatest World Struggle that the world has ever seen—please God, the Last Great War of All!

My work, my own work, it has been hard—there have been difficult times, when lack of understanding made work less of a joy than it should have been—but, looking at it all as a whole, and not as a series of detached memories, it has been very good to do, and I have been very happy in doing it. It has kept my brain working, and, I think, kept my heart young; and never once since the front door of my father’s house closed behind me, and I left home in that storm of parental wrath, have I regretted that I chose the Stage as a profession.

I have tried to tell you something of what the years have brought, with no real thought except that it was a joy to me to remember it all. I have not tried to “point a moral or adorn a tale”, but simply to tell my story as it happened. Yet there is surely a moral—or, at least, some lesson—which has been learnt in all the years of work and play. I think it is this: Let God’s sunlight into your lives, live in the sunlight, and let it keep you young. For youth is the thing which makes life really worth living, youth which means the enjoyment of small things, youth which means warm affections, and which means also the absence of doubting and distrusting which, if you allow it, will take so much of the glorious colour out of life’s pictures.

So, in Harry’s words, I would end all I have tried to tell you by saying:

“Sunshine! Let’s go out!”

FINIS

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I PARTS PLAYED BY EVA MOORE

1887

“Varney” _Proposals_ “Spirit of Home” (Dot) _The Cricket on the Hearth_

1888

“Alice” _A Red Rag_ “Alice Marshall” _The Butler_ “Dora” _The Don_ —— _The Spittalfields Weaver_ —— _Toole in the Pig Skin_ —— _Ici on Parle Française_ —— _Birthplace of Podgers_ —— _Artful Cards_ —— _Paul Pry_

1889

“Kitty” _A Broken Sixpence_ “Felicia Umfraville” _The Middleman_ “Alice Jolliffe” _The Home Feud_ “Nancy” _The Middleman_ “Diana” _Pedigree_

1890

“Countess of Drumdurris” _The Cabinet Minister_

1891

“Gwendoline Fanlight” _Culprits_ “Mrs. Richard Webb” _The Late Lamented_ “Nita” _The Mountebanks_

1892

“Matilde” _A Scrap of Paper_ “Violet Melrose” _Our Boys_

1893

“Miss Violet” _A Pantomime Rehearsal_ “Amanda P. Warren” _Allendale_ “Mrs. Delafield” _Man and Woman_ “Lettice” _Time will Tell_ “Winifred Chester” _The Younger Son_ “Pepita” _Little Christopher Columbus_

1894

“Nellie Dudley” _The Gay Widow_ “Lead” _The Shop Girl_ *†“Fairy Buttonshaw” _Bogey_

1895

“Angela Brightwell” _The Strange Adventures of Miss Brown_ “Nelly Jedbury” _Jedbury, Jun._ “Dora” _The Wanderer from Venus_

1896

“Molly Dyson” _Major Raymond_ *†“Margaret” _In and Out of a Punt_ †“Miss Savile” _A Blind Marriage_ “Madam de Cocheforet” _Under the Red Robe_

1897

“Mistress Golding” _The Alchemist_ “Elladeen Dunrayne” _An Irish Gentleman_ *††“Maysie” _One Summer’s Day_

1898

“April” _The Sea Flower_ “Angela Goodwin” _Tommy Dodd_ †“Gabrielle de Chalius” _The Three Musketeers_

1899

“Sybil Crake” _The Dancing Girl_ “Ellice Ford” _Carnac Sahib_ “Lucie Manette” _The Only Way_ “Christina” _Ibb and Christina_ “Louise” _Marsac of Gascony_

1901

“Kate Duewent” _A Fools’ Paradise_ *“Mabel Vaughan” _The Wilderness_ —— _The Importance of Being Earnest_

1902 “Lady Hetty Wrey” _Pilkerton’s Peerage_ *“Lady Ernstone” _My Lady Virtue_

1903

“Kathie” _Old Heidelberg_ *“Miss Wilhelmina Marr” _Billy’s Little Love Affair_ “Lady Henrietta Addison” _The Duke of Killiecrankie_

1904

“Lady Mary Carlyle” _Monsieur Beaucaire_

1905

†“Klara Volkhardt” _Lights Out_

1906

“Judy” _Punch_ “Miss Blarney” _Josephine_

1907

“Muriel Glayde” _John Glayde’s Honour_ “Sweet Kitty Bellaires” _Sweet Kitty Bellaires_

1908

“Mrs. Crowley” _The Explorer_ “Dorothy Gore” _The Marriages of Mayfair_ “Mrs. Errol” (Dearest) _Little Lord Fauntleroy_ “Lady Joan Meredith” _The House of Bondage_

1909

“Kathie” (revival) _Old Heidelberg_ “Hon. Mrs. Bayle” _The Best People_ “Hon. Mrs. Rivers” _The House Opposite_

1910

“Gay Birch” _Company for George_

1911

“Christine” _A Woman’s Wit_

1912

“Kate Bellingham” _Looking for Trouble_ *†“Eliza” _Eliza Comes to Stay_ *†“Betty” _The Dangerous Age_

1913

*†“Eliza” _Eliza Comes to Stay_ *†“Betty” _The Dangerous Age_

1914

*†“Eliza” _Eliza Comes to Stay_ *†“Betty” _The Dangerous Age_

1915

*†“Phyllis” _When We Were Twenty-One_

1918

“Mrs. Culver” _The Title_ “Mrs. Etheridge” _Cæsar’s Wife_

1920

“Mumsie” _Mumsie_

1921

“Lady Marlow” _A Matter of Fact_ *†“Edie La Bas” _The Law Divine_

1922

“Miss Van Gorder” _The Bat_

1923

“Mary Westlake” _Mary, Mary Quite Contrary_

All those marked * were plays written by my husband.

All those marked † we played together.

APPENDIX II SOME PARTS PLAYED BY H. V. ESMOND

“Lord John” _The Scorpion_ “Harold Lee” _Rachel_ —— _Frou Frou_ “Gibson” _Ticket of Leave_ “Horace Holmcroft” _New Magdalen_ “Eglantine Roseleaf” _Turn Him Out_ “Feversham” _Take Back the Heart_ “Theodore Lamb” _Glimpse of Paradise_ “Capt. Damerel” _The Lord Harry_ “Jack” _Ruth’s Romance_ “The Marquis de Presles” _The Two Orphans_ “Megor” _Nana_ “George Talboys” _Lady Audrey’s Secret_ “Philip” _Eve’s Temptation_ “Bill Sykes” _Oliver Twist_ “Uriah Heep” _Little Emily_ “Ishmael, the Wolf” _Flower of the Forest_ “Tulkinghorn” _Poor Joe_ “Charles Torrens” _Serious Family_ “Mr. Lynx” _Happy Pair_ “Mr. Debbles” _Good for Nothing_ “Rafael de Mayal” _The Marquesa_ “Capt. Kirby” _Dick Venables_ “Fillipo” _Fennel_ “Paddington Grun” _If I Had a Thousand a Year_ “Harold Wingard” _Daughters_ “Fred Fanshaw” _Weak Woman_ “Harry Stanley” _Paul Pry_ “John” _In Chancery_ *“Pierre” _Rest_ “Frank Bilton” _Churchwarden_ “Weston Carr” _Flight_ “Plantagent Watts” _Great Unpaid_ “Phil Summers” _Dregs_ “Eric” _Too Happy by Half_ “Reggie” _The Rise of Dick Halward_ * †“Hugh” _In and Out of a Punt_ “Dolly” _A Blind Marriage_ “Le Barrier” _The Storm_ “Cayley Drummle” _The Second Mrs. Tanqueray_ “Touchstone” _As You Like It_ “Major-General Sir R. Chichele” _The Princess and the Butterfly_ “Verges” _Much Ado About Nothing_ “Capt. Theobald Kerger” _The Conquerors_ “Vivian Seauvefere” _The Ambassador_ “Fritz von Tarbenhelm” _Rupert of Hentzau_ “D’Artagnan” _The Three Musketeers_ “Major Blencoe” _The Tree of Knowledge_ —— _The Debt of Honour_ “Charles II.” _His Majesty’s Servant_ “Mercutio” _Romeo and Juliet_ “Augustus III.” _Hawthorne, U.S.A._ “Corporal Helbig” _Lights Out_ “Louis IV.” _Bond of Ninon_ “Widgery Blake” _Palace of Puck_ “Mr. Whitly” _The Education of Elizabeth_ “Sir Benjamin Backbite” _The School for Scandal_ “Little Billee” _Trilby_ “Viscount Bolingbroke” _Mr. Jarvis_ *“Philip Kean” _Grierson’s Way_ “Sir Francis Leverson” _East Lynne_ “Alfred Meynard” _The Corsican Brothers_ “Chaucer” _Vice Versa_ “Robert de Belfort” _The Grip of Iron_ “Adrian Fiore” _The Panel Picture_ “Capt. Julian Chandler” _The Middleman_ “Algernon Grey” _Sweet Nancy_ “Graham Maxwell” _The Pharisee_ “Edward Pendlecoop” _Culprits_ “Lord Leadenhall” _The Rocket_ “Howard Bombas” _The Times_ “Cis Farrington” _The Magistrate_ “Eddie Remon” _The Masqueraders_ “George Round” _Guy Domville_ “Willie Hasselwood” _The Triumph of the Philistines_ [1]“Uncle Archie Buttonshaw” _Bogey_ “Earl of Addisworth” _Pilkerton’s Peerage_ “Cyril Ryves” _Chance, The Idol_ “Hon. Sandy Verrall” _Eliza Comes to Stay_ “Jack Le Bas” _The Law Divine_ “Adam Haggarth” _In Days of Old_ —— _Barton Mystery_ “Sir Egbert Ingelfield” _The Dangerous Age_ “Jacob Ussher” _Birds of a Feather_

Footnote 1:

Parts in his own plays.

APPENDIX III PLAYS WRITTEN BY H. V. ESMOND

*_When We Were Twenty-One_ *_Under the Greenwood Tree_ *_Billy’s Little Love Affair_ *_One Summer’s Day_ *_Grierson’s Way_ *_My Lady Virtue_ *_The Divided Way_ *_The Wilderness_ *_Bogey_ *_The Sentimentalist_ *_Eliza Comes to Stay_ *_The Dangerous Age_ *_The O’Grindles_ *_A Kiss or Two_ _Clorinda’s Career_ *_My Lady’s Lord_ *_A Young Man’s Fancy_ _The Tug of War_ *_The Forelock of Time_ *_Love and the Man_ *_The Law Divine_ *_Birds of a Feather_ *_Leoni_ *_Cupboard Love_

SHORT PLAYS

*_In and Out of a Punt_ *_Her Vote_ *_Rest_ _A Woman in Chains_ *_Island of Dreams_

Those marked * have been produced either in England or America.

INDEX

Actors’ Association, 40, 233.

Actresses’ Franchise League, 77, 94, 95.

Adams, Maude, 149.

Adelphi Theatre, The, 13.

Ainley, Henry, 61, 109.

Albani, Madame, 47.

Aldwych Theatre, The, 70.

Alexander, Sir George, 43, 44, 54–57, 59, 61, 66, 103, 134, 192, 202, 216, 235.

Alexander, Lady, 111.

Alhambra, The, 129.

Allen, Lady, 83, 84.

Ambulance Corps, The, 75.

America, 55, 57, 62, 83, 138, 143, 145–147, 149, 150, 181.

Andresson, Herr, 111.

Apple Porch, 74, 112, 163, 201, 229.

Archer, William, 179.

Army of Occupation, The, 34, 86.

Asche, Oscar, 103.

Ashwell, Lena, 85, 94, 95, 231.

Asquith, Mrs. H. H., 161.

Astor, M.P., The Rt. Hon. Viscountess, 163.

_As You Like It_, 219.

Austin, Alfred, 160.

Australia, 23, 35, 36, 84.

Authors’ Society, The, 148, 149.

Aynesworth, Allen, 25, 62.

_Bad Hats_, 212.

Bailey, Rt. Hon. W. H., 57.

Barker, Granville, 48, 73, 109.

Barrie, Bart., Sir James, 63, 140.

_Bat, The_, 72.

Beardsley, Aubrey, 120.

Beerbohm, Max, 179.

Belgium, 75.

_Belle Marseille, La_, 69.

Bennett, Arnold, 70.

Bennett, Marguerite Arnold, 182.

Berhens, Herr, 111, 112.

Berlin, 164, 165.

Berry, W. H., 133.

_Biff Bang_, 156.

Billington, Theresa, 98.

_Billy’s Little Love Affair_, 62, 63.

_Birds of a Feather_, 212, 219.

_Blind Marriage, The_, 46.

_Bogey_, 43–46, 202, 207.

Bourchier, Arthur, 60, 110, 111, 206.

Brandram, Rosina, 32.

_Breed of the Treshams, The_, 136.

Brighton, 2, 3, 9–12, 15, 17, 47, 55, 67.

British Army, The, 34.

_Broken Sixpence, The_, 21.

Brooke, Rupert, 86, 193.

Brookfield, Charles, 83, 34.

Brough, Fanny, 30, 31.

Brough, Lal, 31.

Brough, Mary, 21.

Brough, Sydney, 31, 32.

Browne, Graham, 63.

Bruce, Nigel, 160.

Buest, Scot, 14.

Burge, Dick, 137.

Burnett, Mrs. Hodgson, 68.

_Butler, The_, 22.

_Cabinet Minister, The_, 24–26.

_Cæsar’s Wife_, 70.

Calthrop, Dion Clayton, 197.

Calvert, Mrs., 50.

Campbell, Mrs. Patrick, 128, 129.

Canada, 150, 151.

_Carnac Sahib_, 53, 117.

Carr, Professor, 152.

Carson, Mrs., 31.

Carte D’Oyley, 26.

Carter, Mrs., 86.

Castle, Egerton, 66.

Cecil, Arthur, 25.

Chamberlain, Austen, 90.

_Chance_, 219.

_Channings, The_, 193.

Chaplin, Charlie, 222.

Chelsea Palace, The, 121.

Chevalier, Albert, 68.

Chirgwin, George, 123, 124.

Chisholm, Miss Marie, 75, 76, 79.

_Chu Chin Chow_, 72.

Churchill, M.P., The Right Hon. Winston Spencer, 10.

_Cinderella_, 13

Clark, Holman, 48.

Clarkson, Willie, 51.

_Clothes and the Woman_, 148, 149.

Cochrane, Sir Ernest, 72.

Collier, Constance, 50.

Collier, Dr. Mayer, 27.

Collins, Sir Arthur, 230.

Comedy Theatre, The, 51, 72.

Cooper, Gladys, 177.

Copperfield, David, 20.

_Coriolanus_, 140.

Cornwallis, Miss, 86, 87.

_Corsican Brothers, The_, 120, 216.

Courtneidge, Robert, 181, 182.

Court Theatre, The, 24, 101, 109.

Craig, Edith, 36.

Craigie, Pearl Mary-Teresa, 179.

_Cricket on the Hearth, The_, 14, 16, 17.

Criterion Theatre, The, 46, 148.

_Culprits_, The, 26, 34.

Cunningham, Philip, 113, 195.

Curzon, Frank, 33, 131.

Dacre, Arthur, 35.

Dale, Alan, 145.

Dana, Henry, 192.

_Dancing Girl, The_, 52.

Dane, Clemence, 114, 115.

_Dangerous Age, The_, 69, 149, 206, 208, 209, 224, 235.

Dare, Phyllis, 54.

Dare, Zena, 54.

Daughters of the Empire, The, 151

_David Garrick_, 34.

Davidson, Emily, 98.

Davis, Ben, 18, 47.

_Dear Brutus_, 219.

_Dear Fool, The_, 143, 144, 149.

_Defence of Lucknow, The_, 152.

d’Erlanger, Baron Emile, 71.

de Freece, Sir Laurie, 129.

Despard, Mrs., 93.

Dick, Cotsford, 26.

Dickens, Miss Ethel, 148.

Dockers’ Theatre, The, 56.

_Dr. Chavasse’s Advice to a Mother_, 30.

_Dr. Chavasse’s Advice to a Wife_, 30, 149.

_Dr. Dee_, 26.

_Dorothy_, 18.

Drummond, Mrs., 151.

Drummond, Flora, 92.

Drury Lane Theatre, The, 32, 36, 53, 68.

Dublin, 19, 57, 82, 84, 93.

_Duke of Killiecrankie, The_, 63.

Dumas, Alexandre, 220, 221.

du Maurier, Sir Gerald, 173, 174, 17, 218.

“Dumbells, The,” 156, 157.

Edinburgh, 19, 20, 181.

Edward VII., 169, 170.

Edwardes, George, 39, 132, 133.

_Eliza Comes to Stay_, 1, 14, 30, 102, 108, 113–115, 143, 147–150, 159, 190, 203–205, 207, 224.

Elliott, G. W., 43.

Elliott, Maxine, 180, 181, 236.

Elmore, Belle (Mrs. Crippen), 31.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 98.

Emery, Winifred, 16, 48, 103, 138, 139.

Empire League, The, 162.

Empire Theatre, The, 35, 42.

Esmond, H. V. _Passim_.

Esmond, Jack, 1, 142, 146, 194, 201, 230.

Esmond, Jill, 1, 17, 66, 109, 114, 125, 146, 180, 183, 195, 236.

Evans of Edmonton, Mr., 152.

Everard, Walter, 34.

_Explorer, The_, 67.

Fagan, Elizabeth, 234.

Farren, William, 32.

_Faust_, 13.

Feversham, William, 149.

Fisher, Miss, 86.

_Flames of Passion_, 72, 141.

Frederick the Great, 168.

_French for Tommies_, 75.

Fripp, Sir Alfred, 232.

Frohman, Charles, 82, 83, 146, 174, 175, 230.

Fulton, Charles, 85, 64, 65.

Gaiety Theatre, The, 38, 50, 132, 133.

Gainsborough, Thomas, 189.

Gallery First Night Club, The, 45.

Garrick Club, The, 34, 122, 139.

Garrick Theatre, The, 146.

_Gay Widow, The_, 43.

George, A. E., 67.

George, M.P., The Rt. Hon. David Lloyd, 99.

_Geraldine, or Victor Cupid_, 190, 200.

Germany 34.

Gibbs, Sir Philip, 166.

Gilbert, W. S., 29, 125, 133, 134, 223.

Gilbert and Sullivan Operas, 32.

Globe Theatre, The, 220.

Gneiseuan, General, 168.

_Gondoliers, The_, 27.

Goodwin, Maxine Elliott, 180, 181, 236.

Goodwin, N. C., 180.

Gordon, Major A., 77.

Graham, Cissie (Mrs. Allen), 192.

Green Room Club, The, 65, 138.

Grierson’s Way, 179, 201, 206, 213, 219.

Grossmith, George, 138.

Grossmith, Weedon, 25, 63.

Grove, Fred, 25, 30, 113, 114, 159, 160, 198.

Groves, Charles, 62.

Guerini, Madame, 11.

Guggisberg, Lady, 78.

Hackney, Mabel, 148.

Hallard, Charles Maitland, 65, 164, 173, 187, 217.

Hamilton, Harry, 51.

_Harbour Lights_, 13.

Harcourt, Cyril, 197.

Harding, Lyn, 17, 68.

Harding, Rudge, 112.

Hare, Sir John, 69.

Harvey, Sir John Martin, 103, 136, 137, 159.

Harvey, Lady Martin, 103, 234.

Hatfield, Lady, 80.

Haverfield, Mrs., 76, 77.

Hawkins, Sir Anthony Hope, 60, 126, 127, 235.

Hawtrey, Sir Charles, 43, 49, 126, 185, 213.

Haymarket Theatre, The, 109, 126, 128.

_Hearts is Hearts_, 13.

Hendrie, Ernest, 50.

Henley, W. E., 199.

_Her Vote_, 95.

Hicks, Seymour, 39.

_Highwayman, The_, 192.

Hindenburg, Field Marshal Von, 166, 168.

His Majesty’s Theatre, 34, 72, 236.

Hobbes, John Oliver, 179.

Hobhouse, M.P., Rt. Hon. Henry, 90.

Hood, Dr. Walton, 125.

Horder, Morley, 112, 113.

House of Commons, The, 92.

Hughes, Annie, 24.

Huntly, G. P., 132.

_Idylls of the King_, 188.

Illington, Marie, 63, 181.

_Importance of Being Earnest, The_, 64.

_Imprudence_, 63.

India, 53.

Interlude Players, The, 12.

Ireland, 20, 55, 56, 82.

_Irish Gentleman, An_, 48.

Irving, Sir Henry, 32, 120, 122, 140, 213.

Irving, H. B., 65, 103, 123, 124, 134.

Irving, Lawrence, 124, 125.

Isaacs, Sir Rufus, 97.

Isle of Man, The, 56.

James, David, 32.

Jay, Isabel, 33.

_John Glayde’s Honour_, 66.

Johnson, Eliza, 20, 21.

Jones, Henry Arthur, 53, 105, 217.

Joseph, Mrs. Henry, 151.

_Josephine_, 63.

Jowett, Professor Benjamin, 161.

_Just So Stories_, 114.

Karno, Edie, 31, 69.

Karno, Fred, 31.

Kellie, Lawrence, 230, 236.

Kemble, Henry, 50.

Kendal, Mrs., 11, 106, 109, 110 176.

Kennington Theatre, The, 81.

Kenny, Annie, 92.

Keppel, Sir David, 78.

Kerr, Fred, 46.

Kingston, Gertrude, 74.

Kipling, Rudyard, 114, 128.

_Kiss or Two, A_, 209, 225.

Knight, Joe, 122.

Knoblauch, Edward, 71, 182.

Knocker, Mrs. (Baroness T’Scerelles), 75, 78, 79.

Lang, Matheson, 67.

Lashwood, George, 104.

_Late Lamented, The_, 27, 30.

Law, M.P., the Rt. Hon. Bonar, 48.

_Law, Divine, The_, 85, 150, 151, 160, 177, 181, 209, 212, 224.

Lawrence, Mr. and Mrs. Pethick, 97.

Leahy, Dr. M., 232.

Leave Club, The, 85.

Le Barge, Simone, 103.

Leno, Dan, 103–105, 222.

Lenton, Lilian, 98.

Lester, Alfred, 153.

Lewis, Eric, 113.

_Lights Out_, 64, 66, 219.

Lindon, Herbert, 230.

Lindsay, James, 123.

Little, Dr., 57.

_Little Christopher Columbus_, 36, 37.

_Little Golden Hope_, 11.

Little Theatre, The, 74.

Liverpool, 8, 10, 56, 146.

Lloyd, Marie, 69, 120, 123, 124, 129, 130, 139.

Loftus, Cissy, 94.

Loftus, Marie, 120, 121.

London, 12, 14, 18, 22, 74, 151, 180.

London County Council, The, 34.

Lonnen, Teddie, 37.

_Looking for Trouble_, 70.

_Love and the Man_, 84, 205.

Lowne, Charles M., 21.

Lucy, Arnold, 46.

Lumley, Florrie, 154, 162.

Lyceum Theatre, The, 48, 140.

Lynch, Dr. and Mrs., 163.

Lyric Theatre, The, 233.

Lytton, Lady Constance, 93.

Macarthy, Justin Huntly, 17, 183, 192.

McKinnel, Norman, 72.

Mackintosh, William, 24.

_Man and Woman_, 34, 35.

_Marriages of Mayfair, The_, 68.

_Marsac of Gascony_, 53.

Marsh, “Charlie,” 98.

Martin, Mrs. Howe, 92.

_Masqueraders, The_, 217.

Massey, Deane, 151.

_Matter of Fact, A_, 72.

Maude, Cyril, 48, 103, 138, 139, 155.

Maugham, Somerset, 67.

Maurice, Newman, 108.

May, Ackerman, 27.

May, Edna, 33.

Melville Brothers, The, 48.

Menken, Adah Isaacs, 114.

_Merchant of Venice, The_, 32.

_Merry Wines of Windsor, The_, 107.

Michau, Madame, 8, 9.

_Middleman, The_, 23, 24, 27.

Millet, Maude, 14, 24.

Monckton, Lionel, 138.

_Monsieur Beaucaire_, 66.

Moore, Ada, 6, 7, 28, 77, 114, 164.

Moore, Bertha, 11, 77.

Moore, Decima, 4–8, 13, 17, 26, 27, 32, 74–78, 85, 90, 104, 125, 141, 153.

Moore, Edward Henry, 3, 4:, 6–8, 11–13, 15, 67.

Moore, Mrs. E. H., 3, 7, 14, 15, 67.

Moore, Emily (Mrs. Pertwee), 11, 77.

Moore, Eva, _Passim_.

Moore, Henry, 7, 18, 22.

Moore, Jessie, 3, 18, 26.

Morris, William, 188.

_Mountebanks, The_, 29.

_Mrs. Punch_, 63.

_Much Ado About Nothing_, 36, 118, 217.

_Mumming Birds_, 31.

_Mumsie_, 71, 182.

Munro, Dr., 75.

Music, The Royal College of, 26.

Music Hall Ladies’ Guild, The, 31.

_Musical World, The_, 23.

_My Lady Virtue_, 206.

Needlework Guild, The, 76.

Neilson, Julia, 56, 234.

Neilson-Terry, Phyllis, 56, 139, 219.

_Nero_, 119.

Neville, Henry, 35, 36.

Nevinson, Mrs., 93.

New York, 143, 144, 147, 149, 174, 179, 180.

Novelty Theatre, The, 111.

Old Bailey, The, 97.

_Old Heidelberg_, 61, 111.

Old Oxford, The, 109.

_Oliver Twist_, 216.

_One Summer’s Day_, 32.

Oxford Theatre, The, 189.

_Pair of Spectacles, A_, 69.

Palladium, The, 129.

_Panel Picture, The_, 216.

Pankhurst, Mrs., 92, 97, 100.

Pankhurst, Christabel, 90–92, 99.

_Pantomime Rehearsal, A_, 83.

_Partners_, 12, 14.

Pavilion, The, 209.

Paxton, Sydney, 114.

_Peg o’ My Heart_, 147.

_People, The_, 18.

Pertwee, Ernest, 11.

_Peter Pan_, 17.

Philippi, Rosina, 25, 26.

Phillips, Kate, 16.

Pidgeon, Mr. and Mrs., 142.

Pinero, Sir Arthur W., 24, 63.

_Pilkerton’s Peerage_, 60, 110.

Play Actors, The, 12.

Press, The, 18, 33, 48, 96.

Pringle, Miss, 8.

_Prisoner of Zenda, The_, 235.

_Punch_, 18.

Purcell, Henry, 236.

Queenstown, 82.

_Red Rag, The_, 17, 19.

Reeve, Ada, 38.

Repertory Players, The, 12.

_Rest_, 192, 202.

Rex, Frederick, 168.

Richards, Cicely, 32.

Roberts, Arthur, 134.

Robertson, Sir Johnston Forbes, 85, 94, 184, 205, 230.

Robey, George, 40, 137.

Robson, Frederick, 213.

Rock, Charles, 13.

Roe, Bassett, 40.

Rogers, The Hon. “Bob”, 153.

_Romeo and Juliet_, 149, 221.

Rorke, Kate, 205.

Roscoe’s Performing Pigs, 139.

Rose, Patrick, 28.

Rose, Raymond, 236.

Roselle, Amy, 35.

_Rotten Brigade, The_, 212.

Royalty Theatre, The, 26, 70.

Rubens, Paul, 33.

_Ruined Lady, The_, 71.

St. James’s Theatre, 1, 43, 54, 56, 58, 61, 72, 204.

St. John, Florence, 13, 62.

Saker, Annie, 48.

Savoy Theatre, The, 27, 125, 134.

_School for Scandal, The_, 219, 224.

Scott, Clement, 44, 45, 179, 207, 217.

Scottish National Gallery, 93.

_Scrap of Paper, A_, 31.

_Sea Flower, The_, 51.

_Second Mrs. Tanqueray, The_, 217.

_Sentimentalist, The_, 213.

Serbia, 75.

Sevier, Robert, 36.

Sevier, Lady Violet, 36.

Shackleton, Sir Ernest, 71, 231.

Shaftesbury Theatre, The, 23.

Shakespeare, William, 32, 222.

Shaughnessy, Lord and Lady, 151.

Shaw, George Bernard, 109.

Sheldon, Susanne, 233.

Shelton, George, 17.

Shields, Ella, 110.

Shine, J. L., 48.

_Shop Girl, The_, 38.

Shortt, The Rt. Hon. Edward and Mrs., 191.

Simmons, Miss, 148, 149.

Sims, George R., 47.

_Sisters_, 128, 129.

Smith, Aubrey, 54, 70, 71, 234.

_South_, 71, 231.

_Sporting Times, The_, 45.

“Spy”, 25.

_Stage, The_, 31.

_Standard, The_, 202.

Standing, Herbert, 27, 46–48.

Stanley, Sir Hubert, 182.

Stevenson, Robert Louis, 199.

Steward, Miss M., 156.

_Strange Adventures of Miss Brown, The_, 46.

_Stranglers of Paris, The_, 216.

Stuart, Cosmo, 51.

Suffrage Movement, The, 90, 93, 233.

Sutro, Alfred, 66.

_Sweet Kitty Bellaires_, 66.

_Sweet Nancy_, 26, 217.

_Sweet Nell of Old Drury_, 56.

Swinburne, Algernon Charles, 114.

Tariff Reform League, The, 90.

Tate, Harry, 137, 138.

_Tatler, The_, 38.

Taylor, Sir Frederick and Lady, 151.

Tempest, Marie, 18, 234.

Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 188.

Terriss, Ellaline, 33.

Terriss, William, 120.

Terry, Edward, 28, 29, 30.

Terry, Ellen, 36, 38, 106, 107, 138, 176.

Terry, Florence, 18.

Terry, Fred, 36, 56, 103, 139, 230, 231.

Terry, Marion, 231.

Terry’s Theatre, 26, 28–30.

Theatrical Girls’ Club, 17.

Theatrical Ladies’ Guild, 30.

Thesiger, Ernest, 40.

Thomas, Brandon, 33.

Thompson, Mrs., 22.

Thorndike, Sybil, 185.

Thorne, Fred, 12.

Thorne, Tom, 11, 12.

Three Arts Club, 17.

_Three Musketeers, The_, 51, 219, 220.

Tiapolo, 93.

_Times, The_, 21, 28.

_Times, The_ (Play), 219.

_Title, The_, 70.

Tivoli Theatre, The, 121, 129, 189.

Toft, Albert, 197.

Tolstoi, Count Leo, 124.

Toole, Florrie, 11, 12, 14, 20, 121.

Toole, J. L., 13, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, 23, 121–123, 233.

Trans-Canadian Company, The, 150.

Tree, Sir Herbert Beerbohm, 34, 51–53, 72, 73, 103, 117–120, 132, 139, 192, 224.

Tree, Lady, 119, 234.

_Trilby_, 219.

_Twelve Pound Look_, 140.

_Typhoon_, 124.

Ulmar, Geraldine, 27.

_Under the Greenwood Tree_, 180.

_Under the Red Robe_, 48.

_Uriah Heep_, 216.

Valentine, Sydney, 39, 233.

Vancouver, 109, 155.

Vanbrugh, Irene, 23.

Vanbrugh, Violet, 19, 207.

_Vanity Fair_, 25.

Vaudeville Theatre, The, 11–13, 16, 150.

Vedrenne, J. E., 70, 71.

Venne, Lottie, 43, 231.

Verity, Agnes, 24.

Vernon, Harriet, 189.

Vernon, H. H., 222.

Vincent, H. H., 59.

Waddy, Judge, 232.

Waddy, W. T., 232.

Walker, Dr., 163.

Waller, Lewis, 51, 52, 66, 220, 221, 235, 236.

Ward, Rowland, 54.

Waring, Herbert, 46.

War Office, 74.

_Waterloo_, 123.

Watson, Malcolm, 237.

Watts, Dr., 12.

Webster, Ben, 36, 58, 127.

Webster, Dame May (May Whitty), 32, 58, 94, 127, 232.

Weiglin, Thomas, 138.

Weyman, Stanley, 48.

_When We Were Twenty-One_, 180, 207, 225.

White, Claude Grahame, 142.

Wilberforce, Canon, 11.

Wilberforce, Miss, 11.

Wilcox, Herbert, 170, 171.

Wilde, Sir Ernest and Lady, 109.

_Wilderness, The_, 54, 55, 57, 58, 201, 204, 207, 209, 235.

Willard, E. S., 23, 24, 230.

William Hohenzollern of Germany, 169, 170.

Winter, Miss Jessie, 212.

Women’s Air Force, 76.

Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps., 76.

Women’s Emergency Corps, 74–77.

Women’s Freedom League, 94.

Women’s Social and Political Union, 94.

Women’s Volunteer Reserve, 76.

Wood, Mrs. John, 25, 101, 102.

Wright, Fred, 177.

Wyndham, Sir Charles, 34, 235.

Wyndham, Lady (Miss Mary Moore), 78.

Wyndham’s Theatre, 85, 212.

Yohe, May, 37.

Young, Miss Harriet, 11.

_Younger Son, The_, 36.

_From CHAPMAN & HALL’S AUTUMN LIST_

GENERAL LITERATURE

BY INTERVENTION OF PROVIDENCE

By _STEPHEN McKENNA_. _7s. 6d. net._

No one will be surprised that, when Mr. Stephen McKenna sets out to follow an old trail, he finds it a necessity of his artistic temperament to diverge into bye-paths. Last winter, finding London an uninspiring city of refuge, he set sail for the Bahamas. The result of his sojourn there is one of the most personal, the most individual books of this generation. It is not fiction though it contains stories; not a travel book though it talks of travel; not autobiography though written in the first person. It is a sort of literary confessional of a singularly attractive and communicative intellect.

TOGETHER

By _NORMAN DOUGLAS_. _12s. 6d. net._ With a special hand-made paper edition limited to 250 signed copies at £2 2s. net.

It is difficult at this late day to say anything new of Norman Douglas. His reputation as one of the most original writers of this generation is solidly established. A vast number of travel books is published every year, but there is to be found in none of them that quality of personal flavour that is the chief charm and characteristic of Mr. Douglas’s writing. His new book, “Together,” is as delightful as “Alone,” and it has the added attraction of being a piece of continuous narrative.

LANDSCAPE PAINTING. Vol. I. From Giotto to Turner.

By _C. LEWIS HIND_. _25s. net._

Mr. Hind is the author of many volumes, but he has always looked forward to the writing of this particular book as one of the chief events of his career. Wherever he has gone, to the Shires of England, the States of America, to Italy or the provinces of France, he has always sought material for this volume. The book will be profusely illustrated.

THE SECRET OF WOMAN

By _HELEN JEROME_. _7s. 6d. net._

During the war men and women rushed recklessly into marriage. Now in the hour of post-war disillusion they are seeking to diagnose the symptoms of their troubles. Never before has there been such a demand for sane, clear-thinking books on the sex question; for books that are addressed not to the neurotic, nor the thin-blooded, nor the over-sexed; but to healthy-minded, healthy-bodied men and women who honestly desire to make each other happy. Such a book is Helen Jerome’s “The Secret of Woman.” It deals exhaustively, though lightly and wittily, with the relationships of men and women. Here are some of the chapter headings: “Wherein men are superior,” “Woman’s attitude to male beauty,” “Are women liars?” “Does woman know passion?”

ROBERT BURNS: His Life and Genius.

By _ANDREW DAKERS_. _10s. 6d. net._

In spite of the assumed lack of sympathy between their rival interests, there are a great many publishers who are also authors. But to the best of our knowledge, the first literary agent to write books as well as sell them is Andrew Dakers, one of the youngest and most enterprising members of his profession. His critical and biographical study of Burns develops a new and distinctly provocative interpretation of Burns’s private life.

EXITS AND ENTRANCES

By _EVA MOORE_. _15s. net._

A light, witty, merry volume of reminiscence by one of the most fascinating and popular actresses the stage has ever known.

SPARKS FROM THE FIRE: a Volume of Essays.

By _GILBERT THOMAS_. _6s. net._

The career of Gilbert Thomas as an essayist and a poet has been for a long time followed with attention by those who value taste and scholarship. His new book is certain of a warm welcome.

NEW FICTION AT 7S. 6D. NET.

ONE OF THE GUILTY

By _W. L. GEORGE_, Author of “A Bed of Roses,” “The Stiff Lip,” “The Confession of Ursula Trent.”

“One of the Guilty” is a romantic story, a novel of action; it is a study of the primitive human instincts that underlie the veneer of education and environment. In “The Confession of Ursula Trent” Mr. George told how a well-bred girl of county family became, through circumstances and influence, a demi-mondaine. In “One of the Guilty” he shows how a public schoolboy can become a criminal. Never before has the life of a thief, of a successful thief, been presented so graphically, so dramatically, so intimately. Every detail of the methods and implements of modern burglary is described, and yet throughout one’s sympathies, one’s affections, are with the thief; one hopes, in spite of oneself, that he will win through.

“One of the Guilty” is not, in the accepted sense of the word, a sex novel. But it is as much a love story as it is an adventure story, and in no other novel, perhaps, has W. L. George written more tender, more beautiful, more passionate love scenes that he has in this book.

GOOD HUNTING

By _NORMAN DAVEY_.

Norman Davey, the author of “The Pilgrim of a Smile,” is not one of those novelists who believe that it is necessary to produce a new book every autumn. Indeed, two years have passed since the successful appearance of “Guinea Girl,” his romance of Monte Carlo. His new novel, “Good Hunting,” is, as was “The Pilgrim of a Smile,” a series of stories grouped about one man; a fashionable and popular young man whom a number of girls endeavour to ensnare into marriage, and it is dedicated to the 1,337,208 superfluous women (last census)!

SMOKE RINGS

By _G. B. STERN_, Author of “The Room,” “The Back Seat,” etc.

A first collection of short stories by one of the most brilliant of our younger novelists.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.