it with Miller.

This cast included not less than half a dozen people who were then
making their way toward future stardom. He engaged Wilton Lackaye to
play _General Haverill_; Viola Allen played _Gertrude Ellingham_;
Nanette Comstock was the original _Madeline West_; Effie Shannon
portrayed _Jennie Buckthorn_; while Dorothy Dorr played _Mrs. Haverill_.
Other actors in the company who later became widely known were John E.
Kellard, Harry Harwood, Morton Selten, and Harry Thorn.

Charles determined that the public should not lose sight of
"Shenandoah." All his genius for publicity was concentrated to this end.
Among the ingenious agencies that he created for arousing suspense and
interest was a rumor that the manuscript of the third act had been lost.
He put forth the news that Mr. Howard's copy was mislaid, and a
city-wide search was instituted. All the while that the company was
rehearsing the other acts the anxiety about the missing act grew. A week
before the production Frohman announced, with great effect, that the
missing manuscript had been found.

When the doors of the Star Theater were opened on the evening of
September 9, 1889, for the first performance of "Shenandoah," the
outlook was not very auspicious. Rain poured in torrents. It was almost
impossible to get a cab. Al Hayman, one of the owners of the play, who
lived at the Hotel Majestic, on West Seventy-second Street, was
rainbound and could not even see the _premiere_ of the piece.

However, a good audience swam through the deluge, for the gross receipts
of this opening night, despite the inclement conditions outside, were
nine hundred and seventy-two dollars. This was considered a very good
house at the standard prices of the day, which ranged from twenty-five
cents to one dollar and a half.

The play was an immense success, for at no time during the rest of the
engagement did the receipts at any performance go below one thousand
dollars. The average gross receipts for each week were ten thousand
dollars.

Charles Frohman watched the _premiere_ from the rear of the house with a
beating heart. The crash of applause after the first act made him feel
that he had scored at last. After the sensational ending of the third
act, which was Sheridan's famous ride, he rushed back to the stage,
shook Henry Miller warmly by the hand, and said: "Henry, we've got it.
The horse is yours!"

He meant the horse that the general rode in the play.

This horse, by