ent. It was for girls
to dance, and I said I could not, and would not, and was just going to
leave, when the manager came in, and stopped me. He began by making
foolish speeches about how beautiful I was, but when I started away, he
begged pardon, and said I was just what they wanted for a queen, who was
to come out of a flower, and did not have to dance, which would suit me,
since I was so over-particular. At first I thought I never could, and it
made me so ashamed, to think of being in such a crowd, that I felt like
hiding my face forever. But there I was, with no home and no money, and
what could I do? So I signed the contract for ten nights, at fifty cents
a night, and felt that I could never look you in the face again, or any
of the girls. It was not as bad as I expected, but oh, so different from
what I had always thought the stage was. We all had to dress in a little
room that was as cold as ice, and most of the girls were so loud and
coarse, and talked slang, and they all took a dislike to me because I
was queen. They called me "old prudy," and had all kinds of coarse jokes
that made me feel as though I would die of shame; I took cold the first
night, the stage was so windy, and our dresses as thin as wisps, and
then I was so mortified and miserable. I nearly starved while I was
there, the pay was so small, and I couldn't afford to have any fire in
my room at the small hotel, and took such a heavy cold that I thought I
would die coughing. Oh, how wretched I was! I wanted to die, for I
thought I had fallen so low that you would never care for me again, and
I never felt that I needed God as I did then. I don't think I ever
prayed honestly before, but it seemed as if that terrible feeling of
being alone, would kill me, so I began to go to God, as I would to you,
and it became such a comfort. I wanted to be good and honest, whatever I
did, so that I could feel that I still had a right to love and think of
you all. I stayed with that company the rest of the winter, at a salary
of two dollars a week, and did all manner of odds and ends. Sometimes go
on as a substitute, sometimes as a servant or some inferior character,
and often to dress the leading ladies, when they found that I could do
it nicely. The manager was a gruff, coarse man, but he had a kind heart,
and after a while, he seemed to take a sort of interest in me,
especially when my cough grew so bad. He brought me medicine twice, and
one night asked me if I had