ing
picture of the stately Lawrence Barrett drinking cold tea and eating
stiff cold toast, while he talked brilliantly of all things under heaven,
is one of my quaintest memories.

One loves to think of those years of his close relations with Mr. Booth.
Artistically, the combination was an ideal one; commercially, it was a
most successful one; while it certainly brought out qualities of
gentleness and devotion in Mr. Barrett that the public had not
accredited him with.

The position of manager and co-star was a difficult one, and only
Barrett's loving comprehension of Booth's peculiarities, as well as his
greatness, made that position tenable. Mr. Booth loathed business
details; he was sorrowful and weary; he had tasted all the sweets the
world had to offer, but only their under tang of bitterness was left upon
his lips. He had grown coldly indifferent to the call of the public, but
Mr. Barrett believed that under this ash of lassitude there still glowed
the clear fire of genius, and when they went forth to try their great
experiment, Mr. Booth found himself respected, honored, guarded as any
woman might have been. He was asked no questions about scene or scenery,
about play or percentage--his privacy and peace were ever of the first
consideration. Mr. Barrett was his agent, manager, stage-manager, friend,
co-worker, and dramatic guardian angel--all he asked of him in return was
to act.

And how splendidly Mr. Booth responded the public can well remember. As
he said laughingly to a friend, at the end of the first season: "Good
work, eh? well, why should I not do good work, after all Barrett has done
for me. Why, I never knew what c-o-m-f-o-r-t spelled before. I
arrive--someone says: 'Here's your room, Mr. Booth.' I go in and smoke.
At night, someone says: 'Here's your dressing-room, sir,' and I go in and
dress, yes, and smoke, and then act. That's all, absolutely all that I
have to do, except to put out my hand and take my surprisingly big share
of the receipts now and then. Good work, eh? well, I'll give him the best
that's in me, he deserves it."

And in the beautiful friendship that grew up between the melancholy,
gentle Booth and the nervously energetic Barrett I believe each gave to
the other the best that was in him.

Before leaving the Barretts I should like to mention an odd happening
connected with Joe and my visit to New Orleans, where the theatre was
under the management of Lawrence Barrett and Mr. Roge