owed directions exactly, and when Mr. Richings, as _Washington_,
made his pompous way to the stage, he stood a moment in speechless wrath,
and then, trembling with anger, he stamped his foot, and waving his arm,
cried: "Go a-way! Go a-way! you very presuming young person; this is
heaven, and I told you this morning that only my daughter Car-O-line and
I could possibly stand in heaven!"

It was enough; the "inquiring one" was rolling about with joy at his
work. He had taken a rise out of the old gentleman and proved the truth
of the story which had gone abroad in the land as to this claim of all
heaven for himself and his Car-O-line.

I naturally remember these stars with great clearness, since it was for a
small part in one of their plays that I received my first newspaper
notice. Imagine my incredulous joy when I was told of this journalistic
feat--unheard of before--of praising the work of a ballet-girl.
Suspecting a joke, I did not obtain a paper until late in the day, and
after I had several times been told of it. Then I ventured forth, bought
a copy of the _Herald_, and lo, before my dazzled eyes appeared my own
name. Ah, few critics, with their best efforts, have thrown as rosy a
light upon the world as did Mr. Jake Sage with his trite ten-word
statement: "Clara Morris played the small part allotted to her well."

My heart throbbed hard, I seemed to catch a glimpse, through the rosy
light, of a far-away Temple of Fame, and this notice was like a petal
blown to me from the roses that wreathed its portals. Could I ever, ever
reach them!

"Played the small part allotted to her well." "Oh," I cried aloud, "I
will try to do everything well--I will, indeed!" and then I cut the
notice out and folded it in a sheet of paper, and put both in an envelope
and pinned that fast to my pocket, that I might take it to my mother, who
was very properly impressed, and was a long time reading its few words,
and was more than a trifle misty about the eyes when she gave it back to
me. Looking at them now, the words seem rather dry and scant, but then
they had all the sweetness, life, and color of a June rose--the most
perfect thing of God's bounteous giving.

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH

Mr. Roberts Refers to Me as "That Young Woman," to My Great Joy--I
Issue the "Clara Code"--I Receive my First Offer of Marriage.

My mother, moved at last by my highly colored accounts of the
humiliations brought upon me by the shortness of my