d stand it.
When I made no demand for my promised increase of salary, but went
pinching along as best I could, he only said to himself: "She will be all
the worse when her head does begin to turn."

One day a certain newspaper man looked in at his office, and said: "Oh, I
have something here about the play, and I've given a few pretty good
lines to your _find_ (Clara Morris): do you want to look at them?"

"I want them cut out!" sharply ordered Mr. Daly.

"Cut out?" repeated the surprised man. "Why, she's the play--or mighty
near it. I thought you'd want her spoken of most particularly?"

And then Mr. Daly made his famous speech: "I don't want individual
successes, sir, in my theatre! I want my company kept at a level. I put
them all in a line, and then I watch, and if one head begins to bob up
above the others, I give it a crack and send it down again!"

I had heard that story in several forms, when one day I spoke of it to
Mr. Daly, and he calmly acknowledged the speech, as I have given it
above, adding the words: "And next week I'm going to give Mr. Crisp's
head a crack, he's bobbing up, I see!"

The play of "Saratoga," by Mr. Bronson Howard, had been read to the
company, and, after the custom of actors the world over, they began to
cast the characters themselves--such a part for Lewis, such a one for
Miss Davenport. The splendid Irish part for Amy Ames (of course, with her
wonderful brogue), etc.; almost everyone remarking that there was nothing
for me. Lewis said: "Well, Clara, you're out of this play, sure. Will you
study Greek or the Rogue's Vocabulary? for I'll wager a hat to a hair-pin
you'll be turning a good head of hair gray over some nonsense of the
kind--good Lord!"

For M. Benot was holding toward me a thin little part, saying: "For you,
Miss Morris."

Mr. Daly stood at the far end of the room; he was watching me. The part
was a walking lady of second quality. It was an indignity to give it to
me. Like lightning I recalled the terms of my contract--I realized my
helplessness.

I rolled up the small part, calmly rose, and smiling a comprehending
smile into Mr. Daly's disappointed eyes, for which he could have choked
me, I sauntered out of the room. At home I wept bitterly. It was
undeserved! I had borne so much from gratitude, and here I was being
treated just as a fractious, brain-turned, presuming person might have
been treated for a punishment. However, my tears were only seen at home.
At the