it,' if you know what that
means."

"I've heard the phrase," he answered; "it corresponds to the old-time
'barn-storming,' doesn't it?"

"It does."

Hugh interposed. "I wouldn't go into that, sis."

"Why not? It's great fun--now. I used to think it pretty tragic
sometimes. Yes, I was nineteen when I went on the New England rural
circuit--to give it a better name. Oh, I've been through all the steps!
As soon as I felt a little secure about mother, I ventured to New York
in answer to advertisements in _The Reflector_, and went out 'on the
road' at 'fifteen per.'" These slang phrases seemed humorous as they
came from her smiling lips, but Douglass knew some little part of the
toil and discomfort they stood for.

Her eyes danced with fun. "I played _The Lady of Lyons_ in a 'kitchen
set,' and the death-scene in _East Lynne_ before a 'wood drop.' And my
costumes were something marvellous, weren't they, mother? Well, this
lasted two seasons--summer seasons; while I continued to read in winter
in order to indulge my passion for the stage in summer and early autumn.
Then I secured a small part in a real company, and at a salary that
permitted me to send some money home. I knocked about the country this
way two seasons more--that makes me twenty-two. I knew the office of
every manager in New York by this time, but had been able to reach an
audience with but one or two. They were kind enough, but failed to 'see
anything' in me, as the phrase goes; and I was quite disheartened. Oh,
'the Rialto'!" Her face clouded and her voice softened. "It is a
brilliant and amusing place to the successful, but to the girl who walks
it seeking a theatrical engagement it is a heartless and cruel place.
You can see them there to-day--girls eager and earnest and ready to work
hard and conscientiously--haunting the agencies and the anterooms of the
managers just as I did in those days--only five years ago."

"It seems incredible," exclaimed Douglass. "I thought you came here from
a London success."

"So I did, and that is the miraculous chapter of my story. I went to
London with Farnum--with only a little part--but McLennan saw me and
liked my work, and asked me to take the American adventuress in his new
play. And then--my fortune was made. The play was only a partial
success, but my own position was established. I continued to play the
gay and evil-minded French and Russian woman of the English stage till I
was tired of them. Then I tried _